Unexpected Storms (The Unexpected Series Book 4)

by Stacy Eaton

  “Am I him?” I asked as I laughed. “Who do you think I am?”

  She pointed to the television behind me in the corner, where Ali and I were about to dance the second dance. Holy shit!

  “No,” I muttered as I spun back around, and she put her hand on my arm.

  “It is you.”

  I closed my eyes to keep myself calm and not lash out. “Yeah, so it’s me.”

  Why I hadn’t heard it before, I don’t know, but now—even over the din of the tavern—I could hear Tarin talking and myself answering right before I went on.

  I couldn’t help myself, I shifted in my seat and stared up at the television. The music started, and I watched it, slightly breathlessly, as our dance began. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience as I watched our bodies move and remembered the feel of her body, the heat of the light, the volume of the music.

  I was more mesmerized now as I watched Ali than I had been that night. I had kissed that woman, held her in my arms. I’d had her body under mine—naked. I had tasted her sweetness, heard her scream from pleasure—my name on her lips as she shattered. I could have had her completely, but I had walked away. Was that smart or stupid?

  People clapped for me, and all around me people wanted to touch me. Why I had no clue, but they did. I was in awe of the kiss on the screen, and I couldn’t believe they kept the part where I stood there staring after her. What a lovestruck fool I looked like.

  My after-dance interview just added flame to the fire, and I hoped that the guys that I worked with were not watching this. Damn, I could imagine what they would all say.

  Then I watched Ali after she came off the floor. She looked just as shocked as I had by our dance—by our kiss. I should have felt vindicated, but I didn’t because I knew that I lost.

  I wanted to turn away, not watch anymore, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to see how Ali and Blake danced. I needed to know what safe looked like.

  So I had them refill my beer and add a shot to it. Then I sat there and watched Ali and Blake dance. They were striking as a couple, so different, but still beautiful to watch. They did look good together, not as good as we did—at least in my opinion—but who cared what I thought.

  When they were done, several people were watching me, and the lady who had gathered my attention in the first place stepped closer, lowering her voice. “She didn’t pick you, did she?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because you’re here, and not with her. I have a feeling that if she had picked you, the two of you would have weathered any storm to make it work.”

  I stared at her. “What makes you think that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just the way you two look at one another. Like the other person is everything to you—or could be. Like you would move heaven and earth to be there for them. That other guy, yeah, maybe he could make her happy, but not forever.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, well, you’re right. Ali didn’t pick me. I came here to get away from this so that I didn’t have to watch it.”

  “Well, I think it’s better that you watch it, and afterward, I’m sure you can have your pick of women here in the bar.” She waved a hand around, and I scanned the area, noting several women who were watching me.

  I turned back around as they returned from commercial and did a few interviews with us. Again, I didn’t want to watch, but I got pulled in by the excitement of the crowd. The woman beside me, who introduced herself as Carol, grabbed the stool next to me, and we chatted during commercials. She was nice, but not my type, and I was glad that she wasn’t trying to flirt with me. She seemed to be more interested in friendship, and I was okay with that.

  When it came time for Ali to meet up with her choice, I tensed. Damn, I did not want to watch this, but I was not able to look away. As I received the card that thanked me but said sorry, there was a ton of boos in the group from everyone around me, and I found myself laughing.

  I watched her meeting Blake and a few minutes of chat before they walked off into the park. Well, that was it. She had made her choice. I turned back to the bar, and Carol punched my arm. “You have to watch the update. Maybe they broke up.”

  “No, they didn’t.”

  “Do you know that for sure?”

  I shrugged, and when the update came on, I turned to watch it. What I heard caused my jaw to drop. Ali was speaking with Tarin at the restaurant, dressed in her chef’s coat. “Blake and I had a great friendship right from the start, and we really enjoyed our time, but we realized that we were much better as friends than we were anything else.” Ali laughed softly. “My best friend told me I should have gone with sexy and not safe. I think I should have listened to her.”

  People were staring at me, and I could do nothing but stare at the screen. Ali and Blake weren’t together anymore? What? Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she say something?

  “You okay?” Carol asked, and I jerked back to reality.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Look, it was great talking to you, Carol, but I gotta go.”

  She smiled. “I bet I know where you are going.”

  I laughed. “Well, that makes one of us.” I kissed her cheek, thankful that she had tapped me on the shoulder and made me watch it. “Maybe we will see each other again.”

  “I hope so, Harvey. Good luck!” she called out as I made a beeline out of the tavern and to my truck.

  Now to figure out how to deal with this. I returned to my house and located the laptop that I had tossed aside. After plugging it in, I turned the program on and watched her move through the kitchen as she worked.

  I tried to come up with a plan of how to apologize for being such an ass. What could I do to fix what I’d done? No wonder she looked heartbroken when she left here, but why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she just say she wasn’t with Blake anymore? It would have been so easy, and everything would have been different.

  I tried not to think about what would have happened if she had told me, because I didn’t need my hormones jacked any higher than they were already.

  Instead, I watched her work through the night and leave. I had no clue where she lived, so it wasn’t like I could find her right now. Suddenly, I remembered that earlier today, she had been talking to me. I found the recorded files on our server and started listening to them again from the moment she came into work.

  I found the place that I had turned off the sound and listened again. “I sure thought I did. I mean, I know I told you that I was sorry and that I had chosen wrong, but what Blake and I had on the dance floor was exactly what you had said; it was safe. It was also very wrong. He isn’t the one that I want. He never really was. I want sexy and exhilarating, a man who made my toes curl with a kiss, and someone who could make me scream their name.”

  Shit!

  “I wanted a man who wouldn’t try to make me change but would help me find ways to adapt my life into theirs. Someone who appreciated how hard I worked for my career, and who saw eye to eye with me.”

  What was she saying here? She stared into the lens and continued. “I found that. I found it in you, Harvey. I should never have picked Blake, but what you don’t know is that I broke it off with him several days ago, and today when the show airs, the entire world will know that I chose wrong. I should have gone with my heart and not my head. I should have chosen you, Harvey. I should have told you that I wanted the next dance with you, and the one after that, and the one after that, and the one that lasts forever.” She paused. “I hope you see this. I hope that whoever sees this will put your ass in a chair and make you watch it. I want what we started on that dance floor. I want what we shared last night so briefly. I want you.”

  I heard a door open, and her eyes jumped to the back of the room and then came back. I had to adjust the volume to hear what she said next. “There is only one more thing for me to say. I want you to come to me, and I want you to ask me for the next dance, Harvey. Can you do that? Will you do that?”


  I sat back and smiled as she started talking to a guy named Malick about breakfast. An idea began to form in my mind, and I smiled for the first time since yesterday.

  I picked up the phone and called Mike. “Hey, I need your help with something.”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “Mike, I’m telling you that I need your help. You all got me into this mess, and now you all need to help me get out.”

  He was quiet for two seconds. “You’re right; what do you need?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ali

  It had been three days since the show aired, and I hadn’t heard from Harvey. Maybe he hadn’t seen it? Maybe the video hadn’t been live when I’d done my little impromptu speech on Saturday night. I fretted over it when I wasn’t feeling the pins and needles under my backside to see when the next person would get sick.

  When the kitchen wasn’t open for business, I was personally going through each station and sterilizing it over and over again. I knew that by now, I had cleaned every inch of the room—twice. I had even gotten up on the ladder and sanitized the fans, the lights, and the ceiling panels.

  I documented every single thing I did and knew that video was recording my every move. If only I didn’t have to wait for someone else to get sick to figure out what was going on.

  The last couple of days, business had been busier than usual, and quite a few people had asked to speak to me. Not about the food, but about my experience on the show. Who knew doing that show would help business? Several of the women I spoke with made sure to let me know that they would have chosen Harvey over Blake in a minute. Didn’t they know I knew that already? Didn’t I say in the show that I had chosen wrong? I was pretty sure that I had. Two women even asked me if I knew how to get in touch with Harvey. I smiled politely, told them no, and wished them a good meal.

  I was frustrated with the whole situation. I had assumed that word would have gotten to Harvey, even if it was by Alice or Maggie, that I wasn’t with Blake anymore, but so far nothing. I hadn’t even heard from Holly in the last couple of days. I was starting to conclude that he just wasn’t interested.

  Which made no flipping sense! After what happened with us Friday night, it was so evident that he felt something for me. Was he denying it? Did he feel guilty for the way he had treated me after? Was he just an inconsiderate ass?

  I winced. I didn’t want to think of Harvey that way. I didn’t believe that he was inconsiderate, not if he was Holly’s brother. Yes, siblings could be very different, but I didn’t think they would be total opposites.

  I stared at my kitchen, my arms tired from scrubbing, my hair hanging around my face in frizzy wisps. I don’t think my kitchen had ever been so clean. The back door opened, and Ricardo came in, shaking the rain off his jacket.

  “Whoa, you might want to open the back door and get some fresh air in here. That stuff is pungent.”

  “Really?” I sniffed. “I guess I’ve been breathing it so long I don’t even notice anymore. Crack the back door and reposition that back fan to blow out.”

  “Sure. Why are you cleaning again?”

  “Because I’ll be damned if someone else is going to get sick from something in my kitchen.”

  He was positioning the fan and glanced back. “You ever think that it might not be the kitchen, but the food?”

  “Of course, I have thought of that, but do you hear of any other patrons getting sick at other restaurants? It’s not like any of our suppliers only supply us.”

  He nodded. “Didn’t the Health Department say they were going to close us for two weeks if anyone else got sick?”

  “Yes, and I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. We need to stay on top of everyone. I want people to scrub their hands like they are about to perform surgery and clean uniforms and aprons every single day. I’m not taking any chances, Ricardo. I can’t afford to.”

  “You’re doing all that you can, Ali. What does Randolph say?”

  “He’s worried, but he thinks I can handle it. Says that I should keep doing what I’m doing.”

  “What is he going to do if they close us down for two weeks?”

  I shrugged and sighed. “I have no clue, but I have a feeling I’d be looking for a new job.”

  Ricardo squeezed my shoulder. “That won’t happen. I think after the scrubbing you gave this kitchen, the patrons could eat off any surface they wanted to without any issues.”

  We both laughed, and then a few other people started to arrive. I went back to the employee restroom and washed my face, brushed my hair, and changed out of my t-shirt into a camisole that I wore under my chef’s coat. Twenty minutes later, I was in the center of the kitchen and preparing for another busy night.

  Around eight-thirty, amid our busiest time, there was banging at our back door, and before David could answer it, Anton rushed into the kitchen with a paramedic and a policeman.

  “What’s going on?” I asked him as I sprinkled seasoning over the dish in front of me.

  David’s voice raised as he yelled from the back door, “Chef!”

  I turned to see several cops coming down the hallway toward us. “What the hell is going on?”

  One of the police officers was on the phone and said, “Which one?” He paused and then nodded. “Yeah, I got him.”

  Two police officers walked over to Ricardo, who started sputtering. “What are you doing? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “What the hell is going on!” I shouted, trying to get someone to tell me something.

  The paramedic rushed to my side. “I need to know what he was cooking and who got it?”

  “What?” I grabbed the cop's arm as he started to pulled Ricardo away. “Wait! Will someone just tell me what the hell is going on, please?”

  The cop looked pointedly at my hand and then at me; I let him go but didn’t back down, and he sighed. “This man was seen on camera putting something into the food.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, and then it dawned on me, and I automatically glanced at the camera at his station. “Who called you?”

  “We got a call from your security company, ma’am.”

  The paramedic stepped forward. “You can help yourself out a lot here if you tell me what meal you poisoned.”

  “Wait! You think Ricardo did this? No! He’s my sous chef! He would never do this!”

  I stared at him, but Ricardo refused to meet my eyes. The cop pulled him around toward the paramedic as the officer spoke. “You realize that if he dies, you will be charged with homicide.”

  “He won’t die! I only gave him enough to make him sick.”

  I gasped. “Ricardo! Why would you do that?”

  “Why do you think? I was never going to get the head chef position with you here. I need you out of the way. I was hoping Randolph would fire you for negligence.”

  I stepped forward and smacked him across the face. A moment later, one of the police officers was pulling me back from him. “You deserve to be in jail! How could you do that to someone? How could you do that to me? After everything that I have done for you! You tried to ruin my reputation! You screwed around with all of your co-worker's lives and with our customers! They trusted us to feed them healthy food, and you poisoned them!”

  “What meal was it, Ricardo?” the paramedic asked again. “We know it was a chicken meal.”

  Ricardo clamped his mouth shut, but one of the waitresses stepped forward. “I served four chicken meals about ten minutes ago.”

  “How many other chicken meals have gone out in the last fifteen minutes?” Anton asked as he glanced over the rest of the waitstaff who had gathered right inside the kitchen door.

  “I had two, but I just put them down on the table.”

  “I had one; the rest of mine have been beef and seafood,” another waitress stated.

  I turned to Malick. “How many chicken meals have you plated in the last fifteen minutes?”

  He seemed to thi
nk for a moment. “Only seven.”

  The paramedic nodded and turned toward the waitstaff. “Please take me to the tables where they were served.”

  While he rushed out into the dining room, Anton hot on his heels, Ricardo was ushered out of the kitchen in handcuffs. A police officer asked where the employees stored their things, and I showed him, pointing out Ricardo’s items. He gathered all of his things, stating that they were going to keep them until they got a search warrant to go through them.

  “How did he do it?”

  “The guy on the phone said that he came back here and put a glove on. He had watched enough to know they don’t normally wear gloves, and not in the locker room. Then the guy was in his stuff briefly before he hurriedly walked out of here and to his station. He stuck his finger into the food, then removed the glove.” He walked over to a trash can and lifted a few things before retrieving a plastic baggie with a glove inside from the trash. “And put it into a baggie, tossed it here, and then went to wash his hands.”

  The last few minutes ran through my mind. I remembered him walking away and coming back, then I glanced up as I put a seafood platter next to a chicken plate and saw him washing his hands.

  “I know what plate it was. The other diner at his table had a seafood plate.” Malick nodded and rushed out of the kitchen into the dining room.

  “So Ricardo was getting the E. coli on his finger and then putting it into the food?” I rubbed my temple. “I can’t believe he would do that to me. Of everyone in my kitchen, it was him that I trusted the most.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I need to get a little more information from you if you don’t mind.”

  “Yeah, let me get the kitchen shifted around.” I turned back to the kitchen, but as I looked around, the staff was already back to work. All of them quiet, several frowning as if they couldn’t believe what had happened. Well, stand in line. “You guys know what to do.”

  I turned and walked into my office. We had been short before, and we were on the decline with meals coming in at this time of night, so I knew that they could handle it.