Starry Skies at Castle Court

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Starry Skies at Castle Court Page 5

by Holly Hepburn


  Sadie waited until a customer had moved away before lowering her voice. ‘If you’re asking whether Greg has absconded from the bistro, disabling their stock ordering system, taking their bookings diary and a large amount of cash, then yes, I suppose he has pulled a Loki,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘I don’t know about the secrets of Asgard, though.’

  Earl whistled, his expression sobering. ‘Man, I knew things weren’t going well for him, but this? It sounds like he’s really done a number on the place.’

  Sadie sighed. ‘Not to mention the poor staff. The maître d’ has stepped up and they’ve reopened, despite Greg’s efforts, but it’s safe to say everything is a bit chaotic over there. Cat has been talking to the owner in Paris – he’s sending someone over to take charge, at least temporarily.’

  ‘That’s something, at least,’ Earl said. ‘Are they going to involve the police?’

  ‘Cat says no,’ Sadie replied. ‘But the de Beauvoirs know a lot of people in the catering industry – I hope Greg isn’t planning to try and get another restaurant job.’

  Earl shook his head. ‘What a tool.’

  ‘Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come here just to gossip about Greg,’ Sadie said. ‘Is there something I can do for you?’

  ‘You overestimate me,’ Earl said, grinning. ‘Gossip is exactly why I’m here. But I might as well check up on the wedding favours too, although I’m sure you and Cat have everything in hand.’

  Sadie spared a guilty thought for the boxes of shop-shaped biscuits sat on her kitchen table, awaiting her attention. She’d been unsettled ever since her argument with Daniel and the strain on their relationship had made it harder for her to concentrate at home. ‘Of course,’ she said, crossing her fingers beneath the counter. ‘Do you want to see the designs?’

  He waved the offer away. ‘No, no. I want them to be a surprise.’

  ‘I think you’ll definitely be surprised,’ Sadie said, picturing not only the wedding favours but the additional project she and Cat had cooked up between them to present to the grooms on the day. ‘In a good way.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ Earl said warmly. ‘I suppose I’d better get back before the lunchtime rush hits. May the Force be with you, Sadie.’

  ‘Er – and you,’ Sadie said as he dodged the browsing customers and made his way across the shop floor.

  ‘Oh,’ Earl said, turning as he reached the door. ‘We’re having a double stag party at the Bus Stop on Saturday – it’s a lot like a normal stag, but hornier. Are you and Cat in?’’

  Sadie couldn’t help grinning. ‘When you put it like that, how could we say no?’

  *

  Cat was up to her elbows in dough when Sadie’s assistant, Clare, appeared in the Smart Cookies kitchen.

  ‘You have a visitor,’ she told Cat. ‘It’s that French guy who turned up a few months ago, when you had all that trouble with Greg.’

  She held out a business card but Cat didn’t need to take it to know who was waiting upstairs: Robert de Beauvoir. Dusting off her hands, she reached for the cling film to wrap up the dough. ‘Tell him I’ll be straight up.’

  Robert was as elegant as ever. His silver-grey hair was swept back in a way that made him seem taller than he was, in spite of the walking stick he leaned upon. He wore a dark-grey three-piece-suit that murmured expensive tailoring and a pair of black patent-leather shoes in which Cat could see herself reflected. ‘Bonjour, Mademoiselle Garcia. It is a pleasure to see you again.’

  Cat shook his outstretched hand. ‘The pleasure is mine, monsieur.’

  He glanced around the busy shop and lowered his voice discreetly. ‘Is there somewhere we could go to talk?’

  Cat hesitated, glancing over at Clare. Sadie had left early to make a start on Earl and Andrew’s wedding favours and Delilah was delivering an order of bespoke book cover biscuits to the local bookshop for a launch party that evening. She hated leaving Clare to handle the shop alone, especially when business was brisk. But Robert wasn’t someone who was used to being refused; he might not be her boss any more but that didn’t mean she could simply turn down his request.

  She thought quickly. ‘Of course,’ she told Robert. ‘Just give me one second to make an enquiry.’

  Hurrying across the sun-drenched Court, Cat wove in and out of the crowd, hoping Jaren would be able to spare one of his employees to help out at Smart Cookies. But her heart sank as she pushed back the door of Let’s Go Dutch; almost every table was occupied.

  ‘Hey,’ Jaren called from behind the bar, his face lighting up when he saw Cat. ‘How’s my favourite assistant?’

  ‘Stressed,’ she said, making her way between the diners. ‘I’ve got a problem.’

  He listened as she explained, then spread his hands. ‘I’m all yours.’

  Cat felt warmth creep up her cheeks, even though she knew exactly what Jaren meant. ‘Really? Aren’t you too busy?’

  He shrugged. ‘These guys have everything under control,’ he said, patting the barman beside him on the shoulder. ‘Really, I’m only here to make myself feel useful. I can spare some time to help you out.’

  Cat’s hesitation only lasted a few seconds. ‘Great. Come on, I’ll tell you more as we walk.’

  Inside Smart Cookies, Robert was examining their Blooming Summer collection with evident enjoyment. He put the tin back on the shelf when he saw Cat and came towards her.

  ‘Robert de Beauvoir, I’d like you to meet Jaren Smit,’ she said, and the two men shook hands. ‘Jaren owns the very successful Let’s Go Dutch pancake house on the other side of Castle Court.’

  ‘Delighted to meet you,’ the Frenchman said. ‘My grandmother was Dutch and made the most wonderful pancakes.’

  Cat and Jaren exchanged grins. ‘Mine too,’ Jaren observed. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, monsieur.’

  Robert glanced at Cat, his expression appraising. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said and turned to Jaren. ‘Speak to Clare, she’ll tell you what to do. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  With a final smile of appreciation, she led Robert out of the shop and through the alleyway that led to Chester’s ancient shopping streets, The Rows. Mindful of his slower pace, she chose a café tucked away under the shadow of the cathedral, where she knew they might find somewhere to sit and talk without being overheard.

  ‘I recommend the lemon and poppy seed muffins,’ she said, as Robert studied the menu.

  ‘Then that’s what I’ll have,’ Robert said to the waitress. ‘And a black coffee, s’il vous plaît.’

  He waited until they were alone again to fix Cat with a serious look. ‘I’m sure you know why I am here,’ he said in French.

  Cat inclined her head, hoping her grasp of the language was up to the demands of the conversation. It had been more than a year since she’d needed to say much more than please and thank you. ‘I do. Although when you said you would send a representative, I didn’t expect for one moment to see you.’

  Robert shrugged. ‘If you want a job done properly, you do it yourself. And so here I am.’

  ‘Here you are,’ Cat agreed. ‘I assume you’ve visited La Clé d’Argent?’

  ‘I have. The situation is grave, even worse than I suspected. Monsieur Valois has been mismanaging things there for far too long – it will take a steady hand and talented management to turn things around.’

  He paused while the waitress arranged their coffee and cakes on the table, then gazed at Cat with undisguised candour. ‘In short, Cat, I think it will take you.’

  ‘Me?’ Cat squeaked in English. ‘Surely you don’t mean that.’

  ‘But I do,’ Robert said, switching languages as smoothly as Cat. ‘Your reputation precedes you – even if I hadn’t seen and tasted your work first hand at La Perle, I know enough about you to be certain you are the right person for the job.’

  Cat gaped at him in shocked amazement. ‘But you need a proper manager – someone with experience of running a whole restaurant, not
a chef like me.’

  ‘A head chef,’ Robert reminded her. ‘And on the contrary, you are exactly who I need. I want someone with the vision to turn La Cle d’Argent around – to make it the best restaurant in Chester. That someone is you and I am prepared to pay you handsomely to do it.’

  ‘It’s not about money,’ Cat said, shaking her head to clear the buzz of confusion his offer had created. ‘I don’t have the experience to run a whole restaurant.’

  ‘And yet you run Smart Cookies.’

  ‘That’s different,’ she pointed out quickly. ‘I’m not on my own there – Sadie is there too. We’re a team.’

  Robert took a long draught of his coffee. ‘So recruit some help. What about that Dutchman who looked at you as though he would jump through rings of fire to please you? Didn’t you say he runs his own restaurant in Castle Court?’

  She had, Cat realised, and wondered for one incredulous second whether Robert had planned things this way. But he couldn’t have anticipated she would bring Jaren over to meet him, even if he had known about Let’s Go Dutch beforehand. ‘We’re both busy,’ she said flatly. ‘Running our own businesses. What makes you think we’d have time to run yours too?’

  Robert smiled. ‘I know you, Cat. You enjoy a challenge. And while Smart Cookies appears to be doing very well indeed, I wonder whether it really stretches you.’ He leaned forwards, steepling his hands. ‘Wouldn’t you like the opportunity to make La Clé d’Argent rise like a phoenix from the ashes of disaster? I can assure you that you’d have free rein to remodel the restaurant as you wish. Money is no object.’

  Cat imagined the bistro lighting up Castle Court with warm yellow lighting and chic Art Deco interior design, a throwback to the elegant dining experiences of the 1920s, with food that was unparalleled in quality and flavour. The staff would need training, she thought, mentally spooling through the employees she remembered seeing there under Greg’s management. And she’d have to recruit an entirely new kitchen team; Mariette’s stinging review suggested none of the chefs currently employed were up to the job. And then she adjusted her assessment, reminding herself that they’d probably been held back by Greg; perhaps some of them might make the grade, with the right head chef. The image faded. Robert was right: it would be a challenge. And there was something else too.

  ‘Greg will be furious if I take the job,’ Cat said, pulling a face. ‘He warned me François was.’

  Robert shook his head. ‘You don’t need to worry about François – he is in no position to ruin anyone. And you may forget about Greg Valois too. His days in the restaurant business are over and he knows that if he so much as sets foot in Castle Court again, I will prosecute him for theft.’

  His expression was so momentarily stern that Cat found herself almost feeling sorry for both men.

  ‘Alors, you don’t have to give me your answer now,’ Robert said, his gaze watchful but encouraging once more. ‘Take some time, think it over. You know how to contact me when you have made your decision.’

  ‘And if I say no?’

  He raised his shoulders in a quintessentially French gesture. ‘Then I will find someone else for the job and perhaps it will become the second- or third-best restaurant in the city. Life will go on.’

  Cat almost laughed, her respect for Robert increasing. Underneath his Parisian charm and gentlemanly demeanour lay an arch-manipulator, someone who knew exactly which buttons to press to pique Cat’s interest. But she didn’t resent him for it; the challenge he’d laid out was an attractive one. Her most pressing question was, could she do it? And the question right behind that was, did she want to?

  *

  Cat didn’t mention Robert’s offer to Jaren. She wanted to keep it to herself, turn it over in her mind before she shared it with anyone else. And, when she was ready, the first person she spoke to would be Sadie.

  It took her a few days to work her way through the implications. Being a head chef was a high-pressure role and she’d almost burned out before she’d left La Perle. If François hadn’t made her life so miserable and left her with no choice but to quit, perhaps she would have worked herself into a breakdown, like so many of her friends and colleagues. Did she really want to get back into that life? Things at Smart Cookies were steady and left her time for a social life; she’d be a fool to trade that for the undoubted stress, long hours and headaches managing La Clé d’Argent would bring.

  And yet she couldn’t quite dismiss the idea. At the back of her mind, she could hear Robert’s persuasive voice reminding her that she didn’t have to do it all by herself, that money was no object. She’d be able to bring talent in, chefs who could absorb the day-to-day stresses while ultimately following her vision. If things had been different, she might even have considered investing in the businesses around Castle Court; buying chocolates from Elin’s and asking Seb to design a cocktail menu, but she couldn’t bear the thought of working with either of them now.

  Her nerves had almost got the better of her by the time she sat down in the basement kitchen with Sadie on Friday morning to fill her in. Sadie listened in silence, her expression growing more and more pensive as Cat went on.

  ‘So what do you think?’ Cat said eventually. ‘And be honest – I want your opinions.’

  Sadie puffed out her cheeks. ‘I don’t actually know what I think. It’s a great opportunity for you but where would it leave me?’ she asked. ‘I’m not sure I can commit to spending any more time at Smart Cookies. Things at home are . . .’

  She trailed off, her expression pinched and anxious. Cat frowned. ‘What is it? Has something happened?’

  Sadie shook her head. ‘It’s nothing. Just Daniel playing silly buggers, that’s all.’

  ‘In what way?’ Cat demanded. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘He’s been a bit weird,’ her best friend admitted. ‘You know he’s been pushing me to move back in with him? Well, now he’s decided that he wants—’ Sadie stopped and took a deep breath. ‘He wants another baby.’

  Cat’s mouth dropped in sudden understanding. Of course Sadie would be worried about Cat vanishing off on another project, or even to another job, if she was thinking about the consequences of falling pregnant. Although having a baby with Daniel was the last thing Sadie should do, as far as Cat was concerned. ‘Right. And how do you feel about that?’ she asked carefully.

  Sadie let out a shaky sigh. ‘I think it’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.’

  Cat resisted the temptation to whoop with relief. ‘Oh, thank god. For one horrible moment, I thought you were actually considering it.’

  ‘No,’ Sadie said. ‘But we had a huge argument about it and ever since then, he’s been off with me. Nothing major, just little digs here and there about how much time I spend here, the way I look after Lissy, that kind of thing.’

  Cat let out a growl of irritation. ‘So he’s reverted to type, has he? Want me to come round and talk to him?’

  ‘You can’t,’ Sadie said, with a half-smile. ‘He’s working in London today – won’t be back until tomorrow. It’s a bit of a relief not having him around, if I’m honest.’

  Cat studied her friend’s downcast expression and considered her next words carefully. ‘You know it isn’t meant to be like this, don’t you? He’s meant to make you happy, not miserable.’

  ‘I know.’

  Cat squared her shoulders. ‘And you know that you don’t have to put up with it if you don’t want to.’

  ‘I know that too,’ Sadie said with an anguished sigh. ‘But there’s Lissy to think about.’

  ‘Lissy will be just fine,’ Cat said firmly. ‘She was before and she will be again. What won’t be good for her is growing up with a mother trapped in a loveless marriage with a tosspot husband.’

  ‘Cat!’ Sadie said, almost laughing. ‘He’s not a tosspot.’

  Cat folded her arms. ‘You’re right, he isn’t. He’s a borderline sociopath with narcissistic tendencies. And you don’t need him.’

  Sadie was qu
iet for a moment, then gave herself a shake. ‘Maybe. Anyway, enough about me. What are you going to do about Robert’s offer? Have you considered asking Jaren to join forces with you?’

  A mental image of Jaren, close enough to kiss, flashed into Cat’s mind. She pushed it away. ‘Sort of. But it’s never a good idea to mix business with pleasure, is it?’

  Her best friend sat up straight and stared at her. ‘Pleasure? Cat Garcia, is there something you need to tell me?’

  Cat’s cheeks began to burn. ‘Possibly. It’s nothing major, Jaren and I just had a little moment last week, when he came over to cook dinner.’

  Sadie’s eyes widened with indignation. ‘And you didn’t think to tell me? Bloody hell, Cat, this is front-page news! What kind of a moment?’

  ‘A very nice one,’ Cat admitted, her face flaming even more. ‘But it was just a kiss, before you go ordering a wedding hat.’

  Delight spread across Sadie’s features. ‘This is excellent news.’

  ‘It was,’ Cat said with a wry twist of her lips. ‘But then Robert suggested we work together and now I don’t know what I want. I don’t think I can have both.’

  ‘Of course you can,’ Sadie said, frowning. ‘Plenty of people do.’

  ‘But rebuilding the restaurant would be really intense,’ Cat argued. ‘We’d spend a lot of time together and there are bound to be times when we don’t agree. I’m worried that it would be too much, I don’t want it to be paring knives at dawn before we’ve even got over the honeymoon period.’

  Sadie looked thoughtful. ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘What can I do except think about it some more?’ Cat said helplessly. ‘But I wanted to talk to you first. If you think it’s a bad idea then there’ll be nothing to discuss with Jaren. I’ll tell Robert I can’t help and that will be that.’

  ‘You could always outsource the project management side of things,’ Sadie said slowly.

  ‘I’d have to,’ Cat said, with a snort. ‘Give me a seven-course meal to plan and I’m fine. Anything else is beyond me.’

  ‘That’s not actually true,’ Sadie pointed out, waving a hand at the kitchen around them. ‘You did manage to pull together all of this before we opened the shop.’

 

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