‘What are you going to say to Donny?’ Daryl asked.
Trudy shrugged. ‘I need to find out what he wants. I guess that’s where I’ll start.’
‘Any ideas what he wants?’
Trudy nodded. She figured she knew exactly what Donny wanted. And the scary thing was, she was worried that she and Charlotte would have to give it to him.
Chapter 10
She could see Donny as she approached the fast-food diner. He was sitting in a window seat. He looked no different from when Trudy had last seen him. His features were mannequin handsome with jet-black hair, sculpted bone structure and an arrogant smirk lurking on his full generous lips. Beneath his designer biker jacket he wore a brilliant white T-shirt that clung to his broad chest.
He had the temerity to wink as she approached.
His smirk curled into a sly grin.
It was a welcome that made Trudy want to punch him in the face. She kept her curled fist hidden behind her bag, not wanting him to know that he had already irked her so much. Who the hell did he think he was, winking at her in public?
Daryl had clearly noticed the gesture. She leaned her head close to Trudy’s ear and whispered, ‘He’s a little winker, isn’t he?’
The comment almost surprised a squeal of laughter from Trudy’s throat. Feeling her outrage soften, she smiled gratefully at Daryl. Again, she realised she was lucky to have the blonde’s companionship for this meeting.
Magnanimously, Donny gestured for Trudy to join him. His confidence only seemed to falter when he saw that she was accompanied by Daryl. A scowl briefly wrinkled his nose. His eyes, which had been filled with a fake warmth, were momentarily frosty.
And then he blinked. In that instant, his false geniality seemed to return. If his confidence had been upset by Daryl’s appearance he was no longer allowing the matter to trouble him.
They walked past the window, losing eye contact with him for a moment as they made their way inside. The diner was ferociously busy. A babble of chattering customers queued before counters manned by an array of brightly dressed servers, each one smiling pleasantly. They handled a series of complex orders, barked commands and mumbled requests with clinical efficiency.
Clinical efficiency and a smile, Trudy noticed.
She couldn’t help being impressed. She had worked in fast-food diners while she was studying and, though the kitchen side had been easy, she had never quite managed the multi-tasking trick of working a cash register, being efficient and accurate, and remaining consistently polite to demanding customers. Most days she had been lucky to achieve two out of three.
Above the serving staff were pictures and prices of all the meals available. The displays of the burgers looked impossibly sumptuous and irresistibly appetising. The meats were cooked to dark, mahogany lustre, shimmering lightly with a glaze of natural oils. The buns were golden and fat and everything was presented on a lush bed of verdant lettuce. Trudy had seen the pictures before and always maintained, if the burgers being sold ever looked as good as those in the pictures, she would quit working in a Michelin-starred restaurant and simply sit in a fast-food diner all day.
She tore her gaze away from the tempting images of the burgers. The kitchens were visible behind the staff. Although they were scrupulously clean and furiously busy, Trudy didn’t think they were any larger than those at Boui-Boui. They were certainly no better appointed with their various ovens, hotplates and fryers. And yet, Trudy guessed, one day in the fast-food diner saw more meals being produced and consumed than a week at Boui-Boui. She suspected, considering the busy lunchtime trade she was now witnessing, a single hour at this time of day might equal Boui-Boui’s weekly output.
The prospect of so much food being processed made her momentarily dizzy. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and said, ‘Excuse me’ until she and Daryl had forged a path through to Donny’s table.
Wordlessly, she stared down at him.
He was plucking at fries and eating them slowly. His burger was still wrapped in a napkin, as though he had been waiting for her arrival before commencing his meal.
She saw that he had ordered a burger, fries and a large drink for her. The meal waited on a brightly coloured tray at her side of the table like an unspoken challenge. She wasn’t sure which of them was meant to speak first, or what she was supposed to say.
Donny arched an expectant eyebrow. His smile was triumphant.
Trudy struggled not to sneer at him.
‘Did you order one for me?’ asked Daryl.
He scowled. ‘Why the fuck would I order for you? I didn’t know you were coming. You weren’t invited.’
Daryl sat on the bench facing him. She glared across the table and said pointedly, ‘Trudy invited me, so you can do me the courtesy of getting me a meal.’ Her smile blossomed as she glanced at the pictures and prices above the serving staff. ‘I’d like one of those children’s meals, please. I’d like one of those meals that come with a toy.’
Donny rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something further, then clearly realised it would be pointless arguing with her. Given their previous relationship, Trudy figured Donny had argued with Daryl before. And, while Daryl was in this mindset, Trudy couldn’t imagine Donny being the winner in such an exchange.
Shaking his head, clearly deciding to cut his losses on this particular discussion, Donny pushed himself out of his seat and went to join the queue.
Trudy squeezed herself onto the window-seat bench with Daryl. She lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, ‘Are you deliberately trying to annoy him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we shouldn’t let Donny think that everything is going his way. He’s picked the time and the location of this meeting. He clearly has an agenda for what he wants to discuss. And he tried to decide who should be here.’ Daryl glanced uneasily at the window and the world beyond. ‘I don’t know why he’s picked this place. But I think it’s important that we show him that his control isn’t absolute.’
Trudy agreed. She could sympathise with Daryl’s growing sense of unease. The same feelings were tightening her gut. The chaotic noise in the diner was not helping to ease her nerves.
‘Why do you think he’s picked this place?’ Trudy asked.
‘I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to unnerve you?’
‘Unnerve me? How?’
‘You’re a celebrated chef. You’re used to working in Michelin-starred restaurants. You’re used to silver-service standard and haute-cuisine catering. Maybe he wanted to make you feel uncomfortable by having you visit something a little …’
Her voice trailed off and she glanced at her surroundings.
Trudy followed Daryl’s gaze and understood what she was trying to say. The clientele at Boui-Boui dressed in suits, formal wear and designer labels. The customers at the diner were wearing trainers, jeans and T-shirts.
‘Maybe he’s trying to make you feel uncomfortable by having you visit something a little more downmarket,’ Daryl concluded.
Trudy considered this but she didn’t think it likely. She had shared accommodation with Charlotte and Donny for most of her three years at university and she was sure Donny knew she’d worked in a handful of franchised diners. Not only had she worked at a burger joint like this one but she’d enjoyed the experience. Admittedly, it was very different from what she was used to doing in a kitchen. But she had been won over by the mechanical efficiency and the focus on customer satisfaction.
If Donny really believed that she would be unnerved by a fast-food diner then he clearly had paid no attention to her while they were sharing a house. Aside from working at a burger joint, she had also gone on fast-food binges when she was trying to submit coursework. It hadn’t been often – usually it only occurred when she was pulling an all-night session to meet a looming deadline. But on those occasions fast food had been a lifesaver.
She had also been happy to stop at the local pizz
a franchise on the way home from an evening at Stanzas, their nearby student-friendly nightclub. She shook her head, positive that Donny didn’t think she’d be unsettled by a downmarket burger diner.
Privately she suspected there was something more important about this location but she couldn’t quite work out what it was. She glanced again at the large window, puzzled by the whole situation. In the reflection of the window she could see that Donny had made his way to the front of the queue and was being served.
‘Are you going to eat that?’ Daryl asked. She was pointing at the burger and fries that had been waiting for Trudy.
Trudy shrugged. Her stomach was tight and acidic. She didn’t want to stay any longer in Donny’s company than was absolutely necessary. And she certainly didn’t want to eat while she was facing him.
‘I’m not really that hungry.’
She didn’t add that she thought there was a danger Donny might have tampered with the contents of the burger. She figured Daryl would be of the same opinion about Donny. Together they opened the box of fries and warily studied what was inside.
‘The fries look good,’ Daryl muttered.
Trudy conceded they were the perfect golden colour and did look appetising. They had been pre-salted. Crystals of salt glistened along their shiny lengths. Even when the fries were pulled from the box they nearly stood upright and erect.
Daryl nodded. She was clearly impressed.
‘They look better than those God-awful sweet-potato wedges you do at Boui-Boui.’
Trudy was aghast. ‘What’s wrong with my sweet-potato wedges?’
Daryl shrugged. ‘Wedges are a little bit Eighties. They were retro when you first started doing them. Now they’re positively antiquated. No one eats wedges any more. Everyone wants skinny fries.’
‘What the hell would you know about this?’ Trudy asked indignantly. ‘You’re not a chef.’
Daryl squared her shoulders. ‘I work for a leading online catering company.’ She droned the words as though she was making a point that would be obvious to anyone except the simplest of her acquaintances. ‘Some of my best friends are celebrated chefs, so I think I’m fairly knowledgeable on this subject.’
Trudy didn’t bother to address any of the anomalies in Daryl’s statement. Wasn’t she one of the celebrated chefs that Daryl included as a best friend? The argument already seemed ridiculously surreal.
‘Wedges are healthier than skinny fries,’ Trudy pointed out. ‘Everyone knows that.’
Daryl wrinkled her nose into a sarcastic sneer. ‘And everyone goes to Boui-Boui for an evening’s health-conscious dining, don’t they? Do you think they go there for your health-conscious muffins or your health-conscious steak in bourbon marinade?’
‘What are you suggesting?’ asked Trudy. ‘Do you think I should replace my sweet-potato wedges with sweet-potato skinny fries?’
It was a compelling idea. The only potential problem would be the difficulty of consistently producing a high standard of sweet-potato fries. Regular fries could be tricky enough because of the need to use certain types of potato and deep-fry them at a specific temperature. It wasn’t an insurmountable obstacle but it would need consideration before she did something as drastic as changing the menu she offered at Boui-Boui.
As she was thinking about the alternatives available to her, Trudy realised that Daryl had helpfully set her mind to a real problem. This was not a problem that involved Donny or the troubles he wanted to cause. This was not a problem that had ramifications or complications with Bill or her career or the direction of Sweet Temptation. This was simply a problem of how best to serve wholesome foods with flavours that she already knew intimately.
Trudy could have happily kissed her friend for providing such a perfect distraction. At that moment, if Daryl had again suggested being the meat in a Bill and Trudy sandwich, Trudy might have given it serious consideration. She no longer felt frightened or angry. Her fist had uncurled and she no longer needed to punch Donny. For the first time since they had parked the car and started walking towards this meeting, Trudy felt in control of her emotions.
She wondered if Daryl had done it deliberately, or if it was just lucky coincidence that her remarks had been so thought-provoking.
Donny returned with a boxed children’s meal for Daryl. He placed it in front of her without saying a word and then settled himself in the facing bench seat.
Daryl didn’t bother opening the box.
Donny’s upper lip was curled into a disparaging sneer as he unwrapped his burger and took a bite. Speaking with his mouth full of food he asked, ‘So, how are you, Gertrude?’
He knew that she didn’t like to be called by her full given name. He had relied on that irritation in the past to provoke her anger. Trudy wouldn’t let herself be so easily frustrated by him today. She watched him chew for a moment.
‘What is it that you want, Donny?’
‘Very abrupt,’ Donny smiled. ‘Very straight-to-the-point. And, whilst I admire that as a business attitude, I think we could chat a little before we get down to business. It’s been a long time. You haven’t asked me how I am. Daryl hasn’t asked after Gemma. We’ve had none of the social niceties of a meeting of old friends. Don’t you think it would be polite if we had these social niceties?’
‘Social niceties?’ asked Daryl. ‘OK. Is your dick still really tiny?’
Donny frowned. ‘I didn’t mean –’
‘Are you still selfish in bed?’ Daryl broke in. ‘Do you still have difficulty getting it up for a second time if you’ve drunk too much wine? Are you still amused by the sound and smell of your own farts?’
Donny looked flustered.
‘Did you ever find out who gave you that rash?’ Daryl continued. ‘And where the hell did that stash of gay porn come from? Is Gemma still claiming that she bought that for you by accident?’ Daryl made air quotes for the final word.
Donny raised a hand to speak over Daryl but Trudy spoke first.
She placed a hand on Daryl’s wrist, silencing her, and asked, ‘What do you want, Donny? Tell us now, please.’
‘I only want what’s rightfully mine. Three of us came up with the idea for Sweet Temptation back at university. You and Charlotte are making it look successful, as we all knew it would be. I want my share of that success.’
‘You want a third?’ Trudy asked.
‘For doing fuck all?’ Daryl added.
Donny fixed Daryl with a sour glare and then turned to Trudy. ‘I helped set up the idea for this company.’
‘Based on Trudy’s cooking skills and Charlotte’s money,’ Daryl interrupted. She sounded cold. ‘What did you bring to the table aside from your moral bankruptcy and a dose of chlamydia?’
‘Finish your fucking children’s meal,’ Donny snapped. His cheeks were pinched with high spots of colour. He regarded Trudy and said, ‘I was there at the start. You bitches have shut me out of this operation and that’s not fair.’
Trudy could feel Daryl stiffen at Donny’s use of the word ‘bitches’. She placed a reassuring hand on her friend’s arm and willed her not to retaliate to that jibe.
‘We’re not being fair to you?’ Trudy asked doubtfully. Donny was accusing her of being unfair. It was difficult not to gasp with incredulity.
‘Damned right,’ he agreed. ‘And I’ll keep operating Sweeter Than Sweet with its current web content until I’ve either broken your business or you give me what’s rightfully mine.’
Daryl looked set to say something but Trudy held up a hand. If this was the worst he had to throw at them, a fake website and an unreasonable demand for compensation, then she knew there’d never been any need to worry about his threats.
‘Sweet Temptation is not rightfully yours,’ Trudy said coolly. ‘You’re not having any of it. You gave up all hope of working with me when you had Bill arrested.’
‘That had nothing to do with this business,’ he sniffed. ‘That’s just my dislike of the decrepit old fucker that you’re
boning.’
Trudy pursed her lips.
‘You gave up all hope of working with me when you used Charlotte.’
‘Charlotte wanted to be used.’
‘And you gave up all hope of working with me when you tried to push me out of Sweet Temptation and keep all of the company for yourself.’
He laughed.
‘Are those your only objections?’ He took a small bite of his burger and spoke around it. ‘You won’t have to work with me. I’ll just be a silent partner. I’ll take my cut from all the profits that you and Charlotte bring in.’
‘No,’ Trudy said flatly. ‘That’s not going to happen.’
‘Change your mind, Gertrude. Give me a third ownership of Sweet Temptation and I’ll be happy to take what’s due.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘A competing website is only the tip of the iceberg,’ he promised. ‘If I haven’t had a positive response from you and Charlotte by the end of play today, I’ll make sure things get unpleasant.’
‘Are you threatening her?’ Daryl asked.
‘Yes,’ Donny replied. ‘And rest assured, I’m a man who doesn’t make idle threats.’
Chapter 11
The orgasm struck her with powerful force. Immediately, Trudy knew what she needed next.
They had begun playing as soon as Boui-Boui was theirs. It had been a busy evening with a constant flow of customers – much like every other night at the restaurant. The staff were working hard in the kitchen; the banter had been loud and characteristically brash. The night had sped past in a swelter of torrid heat and frenetic activity. They were listening to divine recordings of Louis Armstrong in the kitchen, and a handful of the staff were singing what they remembered of the lyrics and humming along with the trumpet solos. She was working in a respected kitchen alongside her beloved Bill. And Trudy couldn’t imagine any place in the world where she might be happier.
The only difference between this evening and any other, or at least the only difference Trudy had noted, was that something appeared to be wrong with Aliceon. For the first time since she’d known her, Aliceon appeared a little distracted from her maître d’ duties.
Turning Up the Heat Page 9