His words made no sense. What were they doing here during dinner service? “I’ve just recently had my health inspection and passed easily.” Her heart sped up. It wasn’t pushing out of her chest yet, more like a car revving at a red light, waiting.
“Miss, I’m trying to be nice and not talk in front of your customers.”
“Yes, yes. Of course.” She nodded quickly, several times, not sure what else to do. “Please, follow me into the kitchen.” She looked back at Dan and gestured that she’d be there as soon as she could.
Once in her office, safe behind her desk, Tilly faced the two men. “What can I help you with? As I said in the dining room, I had my last inspection recently and passed, no conditions. You can see the report behind the bar.”
Bulbous nose didn’t beat around the bush. “We’ve had a complaint about rats in your restaurant.”
“Rats! I haven’t seen any evidence of rats and I’m here more than anyone else.”
“We’ve had complaints and we’re here to inspect.”
Did they have to come during dinner service? On a night she had customers? Couldn’t they come back tomorrow, before they opened?
Smile and answer their questions, Tilly. You don’t have rats. They’ll see the truth and be gone soon enough.
“Of course. Can I see your IDs? Then you’re welcome to inspect my restaurant. I have nothing to hide.”
They showed her their IDs, got black lights out of their bags and proceeded around the kitchen. Tilly could only watch and hope.
“What are the Men in Brown here for?”
Tilly turned back to find Dan leaning against the hand sink. “Shouldn’t you be in the dining room ordering?”
“I thought I’d come back and offer you some moral support.”
Her heart grew nearly twice its size in her chest, although it was still pounding as if it were trying to flatten a veal cutlet. “Thank you. That’s sweet.”
“What are they here for?”
She didn’t want to tell anyone what the men were doing, especially The Eater. But he was also Dan, so she said, “Oh, they’re health inspectors.”
“The place looks spotless. What could you be worried about?”
“Well,” she stalled again. “They’ve had complaints.”
“What kind of...” Dan didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.
“Eeewww!” The scream came from the refrigerator area and a white rat raced under the counter. It tried to hide behind PM Carlos’s legs, but one solid kick sent the rodent racing through the kitchen again, dodging Enrique and the dishwasher, squealing all the while. Tilly grabbed an empty milk crate and threw it over the rat, barely catching the nasty thing.
I’m getting too good at catching loose animals in my restaurant.
Dan wove his way through the employees and appliances, putting his foot on the crate to hold it down as Tilly leaned against a rack of dishes for support, making the plates rattle. She hated rats and they were in her restaurant. It was true. What the health inspectors said was true.
She took a deep breath and forced herself upright. She had to deal with this problem.
The health inspectors gathered around Dan and all of the kitchen employees looked up from their tasks. She looked at them and they all went back to working. Or, working as well as they could with three extra people in the kitchen. And a rat trapped in a milk crate. She couldn’t forget the rat.
Everything crammed into an already tight space. Thank you, Mary, Mother of God, that I don’t have an open kitchen, just this silly window.
The younger inspector’s eyes were no longer kind. Instead, they were hard as he reached into his bag to pull out his notebook.
“Wait—” Dan held up his hand to stop them. “Before you do anything that might threaten Tilly’s restaurant, I want a look at this rat.”
“Who are you?” the Nose asked.
“I’m the guy keeping the rat caged. You can still write your citation, close the restaurant and whatever else you need to do about the rodent later, just let me look at it first. Tilly, can you hold the crate down while I look at the thing?”
She shuddered. The thought of getting close to the disgusting, beady-eyed rodent nearly made her retch, but she held her ground. This is my problem. This is my problem. This is my problem. She took a deep breath and put one foot on the crate. The rat looked up at her through the holes and she could have sworn it smiled at her.
Dan crouched down on the floor and peered into the crate at the dirty sewer monster. Tilly swallowed hard, the bile rising in her throat. When he stood back up, Dan was smiling at her.
“I think it’s a plant.”
Her jaw dropped, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the little fiend. What if it escaped and ran into the dining room?
“Sir, perhaps you are a little soft in the head. It’s obviously a rat.” The Nose smirked, looking quite satisfied with his poor joke.
“That is no sewer rat.”
“Excuse me?” Tilly forced her attention away from the rat, which could chew its way through the hard plastic in seconds to rush up at... She swallowed and looked at Dan, who was speaking nonsense.
“Tilly, look at the rat.”
“I’ve been looking.” The thing had curled its hairless tail around itself, as if it was harmless. The lying little rat.
She slapped her hand over her mouth before a hysterical giggle could escape. I’m losing my mind.
“Look again.”
She looked. “It’s still a rat,” she said through her fingers as her hand continued to hold hysteria in. Just what she needed, more publicity. Maybe she should start collecting the animals in her restaurant and open a petting zoo.
Dan made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “When was the last time you saw a white sewer rat? Moreover, when was the last time you saw a sewer rat without marks on it anywhere? Not missing an ear or no scars? This is the cleanest, healthiest, fattest rat I’ve ever seen.”
“I try not to look at rats.” The thing sat up on its hind legs—now it was close to her foot!—and her stomach heaved. Can I barf and be hysterical at the same time?
Why couldn’t Dan take over the job of holding down the crate?
But if he was right, he was saving her restaurant. Whining about being close to the rat seemed a touch ungrateful and having a fit would ruin his rescue altogether.
“I’ve lived in a lot of cities and seen a lot of rats. This is a pet and I’ll prove it. Tilly, step back.”
“But...I’m all that’s keeping the rat caged.” Heaven was a place where she wasn’t holding a rat in a milk crate with her foot, but she couldn’t have it racing around her kitchen, either.
“I don’t think it will run away.” He reached down and pulled Tilly’s foot up off the crate then lifted the edge close to his arm.
The rat raced out and up Dan’s arm, perching itself on his shoulder. Tilly coughed back more bile as the hairless tail twitched back and forth on his arm.
“A sewer rat would never be so friendly. Since Tilly would rather kiss a snake, I’m going to guess it’s not hers.”
“Bill—” The younger inspector turned to the Nose and hope entered Tilly’s body for the first time since the men had entered her restaurant. “The man’s got a point. You and I have seen a lot of rats in restaurants around the city. Never has one been white—or friendly.”
“What do you propose we do? This is a critical violation. We’ve not just seen evidence of rodents, but we’ve seen the actual animal. We should give her a citation and close the business until the problem is taken care of.” The Nose looked at the rat sitting happily on Dan’s shoulder and shrugged. “I’m not sure we have any choice.”
The Nose talked tough, but he was wavering. She had the advantage and she took it. “I have some ideas. If the rat,” she said through a shudder, “is a pet, he hasn’t been in here long. Someone would have seen it, since it seems friendly.” Gross! “We’ll put the rat somewhere else and y
ou men can take your black lights around the kitchen to search for urine. The health code says I must correct the problem immediately. If the only urine you find is where we’ve seen the rat tonight and we clean up with you watching, then I don’t get a citation. Come back as often as you feel you need to in the next month and we’ll call ourselves even.
“If you find evidence of rats all over the kitchen, you can...” She took a breath and used the air to finish the sentence. “You can shut down my restaurant and I’ll hire an exterminator. Sound fair?”
“Bill, what do you think?”
“I don’t want to write a citation if this is some neighbor’s rat that got out. Miss, how do you know this rat hasn’t been holed up for weeks and you’ve only now seen him? That’s a big risk you’re taking.”
“If we had a rat, I would have seen evidence before tonight. This restaurant is my baby. I refuse to believe I wouldn’t have known.”
“All right.” Bill raised his eyebrows at her, but nodded. “You have a deal. What are you going to do about the rat?”
Every muscle in Tilly’s body weakened with relief and only the sheer force of determination held her up.
She had no idea what to do about the rat, other than get it the hell out of her restaurant.
Dan chimed in. “I’ll take it out of here. I can get a cage and I’ll take it home. I have bread and some other stuff to feed it until I can make it to a pet store.”
Tilly turned to the inspectors. “Dan can go out the back and we can start tracking how the rat got in Babka. Sirs,” she said as she held her hands out, palms up in supplication, “I am at your mercy.”
* * *
DAN FOUND TILLY in her office later that night, the restaurant mostly cleaned and closed down, seated at her desk holding her head in her hands.
“Will the rat story be in the next column of The Eater?” she asked her desk.
“What?” Did she think so little of him? “I wouldn’t do that to you. This, this was a fluke. The city of Chicago doesn’t need to know about a fluke.”
“Did you think the cat and dog were normal?” Her fingertips pulled the corners of her eyes down as she lifted her head to look at him.
His inner rationalizer kicked in. “There was the oversalted food, too. I might have ignored the cat and dog or spun things differently if it hadn’t been for the food.”
“Have you had oversalted food from my kitchen since?”
“Tilly, you know I can’t just...”
“Actually, I don’t know anything.”
He didn’t want to have this conversation with her now—or ever. He wanted to hold her in his arms and give her a shoulder to cry on. He wanted her to let him comfort her. “Did they find anything?”
“No.” She let him change the subject, which was close enough for now. “The rat had been put behind the Hobart mixer with a bag of cereal. The only trace of any rodent was from the cereal to where we caught him.”
“Cereal?”
“Cheerios.” Her voice was small, but relieved. “I thought that was weird, too. As I showed the men, we have no cereal anywhere else in the restaurant, so it didn’t violate our agreement. I think by the time I was leading them through all our pantry items so they could see I didn’t own any cereal they were sick of me.”
“No citation?”
“No citation. I felt dirty bargaining with them, but I didn’t want my restaurant shut down. We’ve never had any problems before.”
She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of her office chair. Dan let her have her moment to collect herself.
When she lifted her head and opened her eyes, the spark was back. “I’m still not convinced that what I did was legal, but it’s done and Babka stays open. Karl would kill me if he knew I bargained with a health inspector.”
Ah, yes, Karl, the overly rule-bound, inspector general brother. Rich, who was more in tune with Chicago politics than Dan ever cared to be, predicted Karl would be the scariest inspector general Chicago corruption would ever have to suffer under. Corrupt city contractors must be quaking in their Salvatore Ferragamos if Karl was the type of man to get after his baby sister for bargaining with health inspectors.
“You don’t tell him and I won’t tell him.” Dan walked behind her, put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “The health inspectors sure won’t.”
She leaned her head against his hand. God, he wanted more from this woman than a beer at her bar and stretches of conversation interrupted by her moments of doubt. He contented himself with inane chatter to take her mind off her Catholic guilt. “Paulie’s been taken care of and is happily stationed at my home.”
“Paulie?”
“The rat from the first Godfather movie. It seemed appropriate.” He could feel the ghost of a smile against his hand. But, like a specter, it was fleeting.
“A cat, dog, toupee and now a rat. What next?”
Helpless, Dan squeezed her shoulders. The only thing he had to offer her right now was his presence. “Do you want me to stay?”
“Do you mind?”
Mind spending more time with Tilly? “No. Of course I didn’t mind. I’d be happy to.” He looked at her drawn face and knew she needed action. Something to do with her hands to take her mind off her problems. “I suppose I get dinner again.”
“Of course.” Tilly slowly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her entire person was brighter with the prospect of something to do. “Don’t worry. The whole kitchen floor has been sanitized and all the counters inspected. It’s clean.”
She took his hand, led him through the small door into her kitchen. Babka ruled her life.
Selfish bastard that he was, Dan wanted all of her attention to be on him. Not on the dinner she had saved for him, not on the restaurant she was barely keeping alive, but on him. Her eyes seeing only him. Her lips touching his. Her hands on his body.
He was moving before he even finished the thought. The kiss he gave her was different from the impulsive kiss at the Taste. This kiss was purposeful. He was going to kiss Babka out of her mind so she could focus on him. He’d give her back to the restaurant later. For now, Tilly was his.
She tastes like butter. He licked her lips and her mouth opened with a soft moan. She stood, pushing her body into his and wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers pulling gently at the hair at his nape.
He wanted more. He grabbed handfuls of her chef’s jacket in his fists, resisting the urge to lay her down on the desk and plunge himself deep into her. I am not a caveman. His conscience quickly informed him she still hadn’t forgiven him for the review.
“Tilly,” he said hoarsely, any objections halted when she pulled up his shirt and put her hands to his bare skin.
Dan was suddenly thankful for her lack of a manicure. Her hands were dry and calloused. Rough edges of her fingers tickled lines of pleasure over his stomach.
His entire body tensed with pleasure at the thought of what those hands could do on other parts of his body. What she could do with his body. Tilly didn’t act unless it was with her whole heart, mind and body. He had imagined what such type of single-mindedness would be like when applied to sex, and he wanted to find out.
His hands found a thin tank top before he reached his goal. The skin under her top was silky smooth, just like he’d dreamed, and he didn’t stop to think how his hands got there. He didn’t care. Perfect. She was perfect.
He moved his hand over her bra to her full breast and rubbed her nipple with his thumb. She sighed. Her nipple was already hard.
He turned his attention to her neck, kissing under her chin and smelling the wonderful scent of Tilly. She smelled like every delicious meal he’d ever eaten, the scents of the kitchen having been absorbed into her skin. She smelled good enough to eat—real and ready for him.
“Tilly, I’m done...”
The door from the dining room to the kitchen was still squeaking on its hinges when the footsteps came to a quick halt. Tilly pulled back from him
. His body missed her immediately.
“Candace, I’m...” Tilly was beet-red. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I’ll wait at the bar. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” The footsteps receded through the squeaking door.
“I, uh, have to, have to go,” Tilly stammered.
“Not yet.” Dan pulled his hands out from under Tilly’s jacket. After he smoothed the fabric, he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her tight against him, just to wrap his arms around her, to be enveloped in her warmth and delicious smells. She smelled like home, like all he would ever want home to be. “Let me hold you for a minute. Candace can wait.”
He needed to keep her here, with him.
They relaxed against each other, each one holding the other up.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“HAVE YOU WRITTEN YOUR new review yet?” Mike sat, his arms folded against his chest, outside the racquetball court with Dan while they waited for their reservation.
“No, dammit. And I’m not going to.”
“Think Rich will let me run an essay contest on the blog? The details of the contest are still under works, but something like ‘I did something douche-y. Best excuse for not copping to it like a man wins a case of Summer’s Eve.’”
“Do you even care why I won’t write a new review?”
“No,” Mike said matter-of-factly. “You’ll keep coming up with excuses until she gives up and calls the cops on your ass. She might forgive you if fix it and cover your douchiness in lavender and roses. Right now, you just smell like shit.”
“I can make her understand.”
“Are you willing to bet on it?”
Dan’s gut clenched. Betting on Tilly now felt wrong. What kind of asshole bet on the woman he...the woman he what? Loved? Could he love a woman after knowing her two weeks?
He liked her. A lot. He looked forward to every moment he spent with her, even when she only came out of the kitchen for a couple of minutes. He loved the way she looked, not just the deep brown of her eyes and lushness of her lips, but the way exuberance and life sang in her every movement. When life pushed her down and got her dirty, Tilly stood up—never bothering to dust herself off—and kept going.
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