Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5)

by Heather Wardell

  Kegan, though. We saw things exactly the same way, were both committed and driven and determined. True, that caused us conflict far too often, but it also meant we understood each other on a level I'd never known before.

  I remembered his words at New Year's, his statement that when I was ready I would stop letting Brian suck the life and money and energy out of me, and I felt a calm sweep over me. I was ready. Now.

  "Brian," I said, interrupting him mid-sentence, "I have to go."

  "But I still haven't told you the rest of it."

  I stood up. "Here's the thing. You won't do anything. You'll tell me all about it and then ignore whatever I say. I can't do that any more. Especially not now."

  He sat frozen, staring at me.

  I took a breath to explain it all, how I wanted my time back and didn't want to listen to him complain any more and needed to take care of myself, but then realized it wouldn't matter. All that mattered was that I was putting an end to this. "I am going home. If you make plans to change things and want to talk to me about those, I'd be happy to help you out. But until then..."

  I couldn't get the last words out. I'd never been this forceful in my life, and though I knew I needed to, it still felt wrong. I could almost hear my mother telling me I should be more helpful and give poor Brian what he wanted.

  I shook my head. No. I was taking care of myself for once, giving myself what I wanted and needed. I took a deep breath and finished my sentence. "Until then, don't talk to me."

  I turned and headed for the door, and had my hand on the knob when he said, "But I don't know how to fix it on my own."

  Without looking back, I said, "Time to learn. Be a grown-up," and left his apartment.

  *****

  It wasn't quite that easy, of course. Once I got home, I realized he'd come over in a few minutes at the most to try to change my mind, so I grabbed my purse and a book and slipped out of the apartment, closing the door quietly behind me, then took off for the Starbucks down the street.

  I'd wanted to be home in my fuzzy pants relaxing on the couch, but I refused to let Brian and his text messages, which started even before I reached Starbucks, ruin my precious night off. I set the phone silent so I wouldn't hear the messages come in and spent several hours enjoying a caramel apple drink I hadn't tried before and reading the book I'd brought and a cooking magazine I picked up on the way. It wasn't what I'd planned, but it was good. Occasional bursts of guilt did hit me, but mostly I knew I'd done what I needed to do.

  Having had a bit of a rest was invaluable, because the weekend was insane. The last-minute work for Magma Night combined with Steel's fully-booked reservation list meant Kegan and I were ridiculously busy. Brian kept sending messages, but I honestly had no time to answer even if I'd wanted to, and they gradually tapered off. I suspected I'd hear from him again but for now I was glad of the reprieve.

  Partway through the dinner rush, I was in the kitchen checking to make sure everything was on track when a waitress came in, shaking her head. "You'll love this one, guys. He wants the roast chicken, but with ketchup and mustard on the side. Bizarre, huh?"

  The others agreed, but I couldn't speak. It couldn't be... could it? I cleared my throat. "What does he look like?"

  She turned to me, surprised. "Tallish, blond, skinny. Kind of cute, actually."

  It was. Why was he here? He'd never been the fine dining type.

  "You know him?"

  I nodded. "I think it's my ex-husband."

  She grimaced, and Dorothy patted me on the shoulder and said, "Stay in here with us until he's gone. You don't want to see him."

  No, I didn't. But I also didn't want to hide. I'd spent so long being afraid of what he thought of me, and I didn't want to do it any more. "What table is he at?"

  The waitress told me, and I left despite Dorothy's well-meant insistence that I shouldn't.

  Once I'd made sure that my hair was still sleekly braided and I didn't need to freshen the rich red lipstick I'd started wearing after Niagara Falls to match my toenails, which Kegan loved on me and I knew Charles would hate, I took a deep breath and headed into the dining room.

  I was stopped twice on the way to Charles' table, by people who'd attended Steel's re-opening and were happy to see me again, and by the time I neared his side he was already staring at me in shock, his salad fork held forgotten in his hand. "What are you doing here?"

  I pulled up all my nerve and gave him a smile, though my heart was racing. "I work here. I'm the chef. Your turn."

  His eyes flicked to his dinner companion, and I turned to look at her too. I'd never seen her before, thankfully; how awkward if he'd been with someone I knew. She wore no makeup and had her brown hair loose at her shoulders, just as Charles liked, and I realized he'd essentially found a new version of me. The old me. The me that didn't exist any more.

  Realizing I was truly my own person now calmed me, and I held out my hand to the woman, delighted to see it wasn't shaking. "I'm Mary. You may have heard of me?"

  She nodded and glanced at Charles before shaking my hand. Like a lightning bolt, a memory snapped through me. I'd been out for dinner with him when his work buddies showed up, and I'd extended my hand before the buddies offered theirs. Charles had been furious later, saying I'd made them look rude by not waiting until they offered. Had this poor thing had the same experience with him?

  Charles set down his fork and wrapped his arm around the woman's shoulders. "This is Lois. My girlfriend. We've been together since the summer."

  His eyes dared me to comment, but I didn't care about his love life, didn't care that he'd obviously been dating long before even the first paperwork for our divorce. What did surprise me, though, was something else. "I assume my mother knows that."

  He frowned. "Of course. She's met Lois several times."

  I shook my head in disbelief, and his frown deepened. "She's never mentioned it?"

  "No. She's always telling me how 'poor Charles' is all alone."

  Our eyes met and we shared a reluctant smile. For all his flaws, Charles had at least been a great buffer between me and my infuriating mother.

  His smile faded, though, and he said, "She knows you work here?"

  I nodded. "I even showed her the web site at Christmas."

  He took a breath and let it out in a sigh. "Well, you should probably get back to work."

  It was clearly a dismissal but I didn't leave. "Why did you ask that?"

  "No reason. Look, we don't have long for dinner before we need to get to a show, so..."

  "So answer my question and I'll leave you alone," I said calmly, and he blinked. The Mary he'd known would have felt guilty about interrupting their dinner, embarrassed to be seen by his new woman, and devastated that she so closely resembled me. That Mary had never been able to challenge him.

  Now he had no power over me, and I felt only a faint amusement that he was stuck in the same rut and pity for Lois who'd probably find herself giving up her dreams for him.

  Our eyes met again, with no smile this time, and when I didn't look away he sighed again. "Your mother told us to come here. Said she'd heard it was great and we should check it out."

  My eyes widened. "She did? When?"

  "A few days ago, when I said we were coming to Toronto for..." His ears turned red. "Well, to celebrate the divorce."

  The not-yet-finalized divorce. So classy, Charles. "She sent you here to see me."

  "Apparently."

  Lois shifted in her chair, and I felt bad for her. "My mother only sees what she wants to see," I said to her, "and she's convinced we were perfect together. Not even close."

  "We were fine until you wanted—"

  "Don't even bother." I raised my chin. "Unless you're going to finish that sentence with 'wanted to have a career and I wouldn't let you', don't bother. It's all moot now anyhow."

  Charles shook his head. "Don't pout, Mary. It's pathetic."

  I hadn't pouted and he knew it, and all the times I'd apolo
gized for pouting or whining when I'd known I wasn't rushed back to me. A surge of anger hit me but I fought it off. He wasn't worthy of my energy. "Whatever you say."

  A faint frown crossed his face, and I knew I'd surprised and confused him by not defending myself. I knew, and I liked it.

  The waitress arrived with their meals and said to me, "Kegan wants to see you when you have a moment." She gave me a conspiratorial grin and added, "I always swore I'd never date my boss, but I don't blame you. I'd have gone for that too."

  I felt sure she and Dorothy had cooked up this unnecessary comment to make sure Charles knew I was dating Kegan, but in all honesty I wouldn't have bothered telling him. I didn't need to care about his opinion any more. I smiled, though, knowing she meant well. "Tell him I'll be right there."

  She turned toward the kitchen and gave a thumbs-up, then headed on with her tray. I joined Charles and Lois in looking where she had, to see my tall sexy boss leaning against the wall, and I heard Lois's tiny gasp as Kegan smiled at me and returned my nod. When I looked back at Charles, he said, "You're dating your boss? Already?"

  I nodded, knowing he meant it as a shot and refusing to accept it. He couldn't zing me if I didn't let him. "Yup, already. Why wait? He's amazing."

  "Yeah," Lois murmured, studying Kegan, then jumped when Charles snapped, "What?"

  She flushed. "I just meant, I know this place burned. Must have been a lot of work."

  To help her out, I said before Charles could speak, "Definitely. But now everything's perfect. And we're opening another restaurant on Valentine's Day. Way better present than some box of chocolates."

  Lois gave me the tiniest of smiles, almost more of a flicker, and I smiled first at her then at Charles, who didn't smile back. "Well, you made a good choice coming here. Best food in Toronto. At least until Magma opens. And look, I'll tell my mother to smarten up."

  He laughed. "Yeah, right. You look different but you haven't changed that much."

  I looked back at Kegan, still lounging in the doorway. Undoubtedly he'd been told Charles was in the restaurant and he was there because of it. Not taking over, not expecting me to fail, but there as a silent supporter should I need assistance. He believed in me. He'd believed in me from the start.

  My lips curved into a smile, and I said to Charles while looking at Kegan, "Yes, I have. And I'm finally ready."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I didn't even consider confronting my mother that weekend. Way too much to do before Magma Night. I'd worked so hard to get the menu in shape, and this would be its first real test, and I couldn't let even one tiny detail be less than perfect.

  I was so focused on the food once the guests began arriving that night that it took me a while to notice how strangely my staff was acting. Dorothy was sticking to Crystal like a burr, and Crystal seemed delighted to be at work, not her usual grouchy self. The other workers were split: Crystal's friends were happy and those who didn't like her were silent and withdrawn.

  Crystal must have heard Kegan and me fighting earlier that day. The more we bickered, which was more frequently by the day, the happier she was. She'd even told me on the weekend, in her best faux-sympathetic tone, how sorry she was that our relationship was obviously coming apart. I'd told her she was wrong and walked away, but I wasn't sure she was.

  I hated arguing with him, and not just because it pleased Crystal, but we could barely discuss work now without some sort of confrontation. He was more relaxed about Magma, although only just, but anything involving Steel left us battling. Weirdly, far from backing off as I proved myself capable, he'd become steadily more controlling. I couldn't understand it, and I knew it didn't bode well for us.

  He was in the dining room entertaining the patrons, including Tess and Forrest who'd insisted on being among the first to try Magma's cuisine, so at first I thought I could relax a bit. I even managed to grab a quick bathroom break without wondering whether he'd change anything in my absence, a rare treat. Once I came back and the wait staff came in with orders, though, the tension in the kitchen began to climb and I had no idea why.

  Figuring I should free myself to wander around and try to find the source of the stress, I said, "Dorothy, could you please stir this sauce for me?"

  I almost didn't realize she'd refused, so sure was I she'd be her usual helpful self, but the gasps from the other staff made it clear. I turned to her again in shock. "Did you say no?"

  She nodded, her face white. "I'm too busy."

  "Doing what, exactly?"

  "Yeah," Crystal said, her tone icy. "Doing what?"

  Dorothy's terrified eyes begged me silently to trust her, and to save her, and so I said, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked you. I know you're taking care of the steaks. Angie, will you—"

  "Yes," Angie said fervently, grabbing the spoon from my hand.

  Activity resumed, and I stood in the doorway and wondered what the hell had happened and what I should do about it. Dorothy had never once refused to do anything I asked, and she certainly hadn't wanted to this time.

  I thought it through, knowing I needed to understand. She hadn't been willing to focus on the sauce, which needed constant attention so it wouldn't boil, so she must have felt she had to watch something else instead.

  Someone.

  Nervousness turned my body weak even before I consciously made the connection.

  Crystal. It had to be her.

  I took several long deep breaths. Well, Dorothy had managed to warn me, which had no doubt been her intent in refusing so publicly, and I would heed that warning.

  I kept focused on the food, of course, but also did my best to monitor Crystal and her buddies. The first few meals went out without incident, exactly as we'd planned, and Kegan came in shortly afterward, delighted to report the diners loved them.

  I gave him a smile, hoping it hid my stress, and thanked him for letting me know, then let him leave even though I longed to take him aside and tell him what had happened. I had no proof, no evidence, and I'd only be upsetting him for nothing.

  I kept my eyes on Crystal as much as I could without being obvious, since she would either do whatever she'd planned herself or signal someone else to do it, and soon realized I could spy on her most effectively by working near the windows with my back to her and watching her reflection in the glass.

  That was how I saw her look up, glance about to check for observers, and dust something from her pocket over the steak on the nearest plate.

  My mouth fell open, both at what she'd done and how close I'd come to not seeing.

  A waitress reached for that plate and the one next to it and I snapped, "Leave it."

  Everyone looked up, and adrenaline flooded through me making my words tumble from me before I thought them through. "Crystal, what did you just do?"

  We locked eyes, and the innocence in hers stunned me. I had seen it and yet I almost didn't believe it. Her "what do you mean?" was pitch-perfect, surprised and a bit confused, and I wondered how many things she'd gotten away with by using that tone.

  Not this thing, though. "You put something on that plate."

  Dorothy, who'd been standing next to me, slipped from the kitchen but I didn't look away from Crystal, who looked completely horrified. "Of course I didn't. Why would you say that?"

  "I saw you."

  "There was nothing to see. I don't understand." No snarl in her voice, only confusion.

  "I saw you," I repeated. God, I hoped I had. I was sure I had, but her shock seemed genuine. If she really hadn't done anything, we'd never be able to work together again.

  "What's going on?"

  "She hates me, Kegan." Crystal dissolved into tears. "She's hated me since she got here and now she's accusing me of tampering with the food," she whimpered.

  He looked at me, his face expressionless, but I could see horror growing in his eyes. He knew, as well as I did, that she was capable of it, and he also knew I'd never have accused her without a good reason. "Tell me what happened."


  "She has something in her pocket and she sprinkled it on that plate."

  I pointed, and he glanced at the waitress. "Table six, right?"

  She nodded, clearly afraid she'd somehow be drawn into this.

  "Forrest and Tess." He turned on Crystal. "You're trying to hurt my friends?"

  Her eyes widened and this shock had a depth and reality to it that the other had lacked. I'd thought the first was real but now I knew the difference, and I also knew I hadn't accused her unfairly. She wiped away her tears, smudging her makeup dramatically onto her cheeks. "I don't know who the plate's for! And I didn't do anything anyhow."

  "Turn out your pockets then."

  She blinked at him. "What?"

  "If you did nothing," he said, the rage beneath his calm tone twisting my stomach into nervous knots even though it wasn't directed at me, "then you have nothing to hide. If you did, well... turn out your pockets."

  Crystal shifted beneath his gaze but didn't respond.

  "Pockets. Now." His tone brooked no argument.

  They stood staring at each other while the rest of us watched in a silence so tense I could barely make myself breathe. I had just enough time to think of those old movies with two gunfighters in a standoff before Crystal shot her mouth off.

  She threw her head back, fire blazing in her eyes. "God, you're pathetic, pathetic and useless and stupid," she said, her snarl suddenly in full effect. "If you'd believe your bitch of a bedmate, who you obviously only promoted because she'd put out, over me, you and your shitty restaurants don't deserve me anyhow. I quit."

  Kegan stared at her as if wondering who she was. He'd told me he paid attention whenever he was in the kitchen, but Crystal had clearly been smart enough not to let her vicious side show. The rest of us knew this tone all too well, but I felt sure he'd never heard it, and I found no satisfaction in watching him realize he'd utterly underestimated the damage she'd been doing to his staff for years. My heart hurt for him.