Just a Taste [Private Relations 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 3

  Hearing the phone ring, she hustled back to the front entrance, leaving Sara to finish up the slicing. As she had sealed up the last container, Tom walked through the door.

  Sara smiled and greeted him. “There’s my favorite employee of all time.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Tom said, “This is a trap. What’s left for me to do on site?”

  Having been caught, Sara smiled winningly.

  “Well, all you’ll need to do is to stuff the crab puffs, and top the blinis. The crudites are all ready. You’ll need to heat the cheese sauce for the mini-rarebit and drizzle the crostini. The stuffed mushrooms are good to go. Oh, and the bruschetta needs to be topped. See, not much.”

  Tom frowned. “Yeah. I should totally be able to do that in two hours. I’ve got help. Oh, wait. No. I don’t,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly as he spied the empty kitchen.

  Sara sighed and said, “Let me get my stuff. I’ll come with you. I’m sorry to leave you so short. It’s just that Maggie went into early labor yesterday.”

  His eyes widened and he said, “Wait. So you did all this yourself? If you can turn out five hundred appetizers in a morning, then it would make me a total tool to whine about stuffing them.”

  His eyes narrowed again, “Well played, Sara. Well played. Oh. And how’s Maggie? Is she okay? How is the baby?”

  Frowning she said, “Everything is stable now, so that means bed rest for the next three months. I’m going to have to hire a replacement until she’s ready to come back to work. We’re going to kill ourselves with this new contract.”

  “We’ll deal, boss. We always do. I’ll just browbeat one of the servers into helping me.”

  With a salute, he started to gather the necessary containers and haul them onto the tray. After a beat, Sara grabbed the remaining items and followed him out.

  Once the van had been packed up and Tom and the service crew were on the way to Thousand Oaks, Sara exhaled for the first time in about five hours. After making a sandwich and cleaning up the kitchen, Sara went back to her office to catch up on work.

  Flopping down in her desk chair, Sara got to work on her e-mail and snacked on the sandwich. Not realizing how hungry she had been, she quickly polished it off.

  Elle passed by the office after a few moments, and gave a frown and a small shake of her head.

  Elle said, “No contract yet.”

  Just as Sara was pressing send on her last e-mail of the day, she heard the chime from the front door of the shop. Knowing Elle had already gone home, she scooted out from behind her desk. She poked her head out the door and spotted Deacon standing at her reception counter with a blue file folder in hand.

  Upon seeing her, he said, “I come bearing signed contracts,” then extended the hand holding the folder toward her.

  Once she stood in front of him, she reached to take the folder from him and said, “You really didn’t have to bring these all the way down here. I was going to pick them up when I came in on Friday, remember?”

  “Well,” he said, obviously hedging a bit, “That’s not really the only reason I stopped by. Delivering the contract was just a handy side benefit. Do you have a second to talk?”

  “Sure. C’mon into my office. Coffee? Water?” she replied, gesturing toward one of the chairs in front of the desk. After he sat, she moved around to her desk chair and sat down.

  He shook his head no, and after a moment of awkward silence he took a breath and forged on.

  “So there’s clearly an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed.”

  Immediately feeling the power shift, Sara widened her eyes innocently. Her lips twitched just a bit as she asked, “Oh really? What sort of elephant is that, Deacon?”

  He sighed deeply and asked her, with a somewhat sardonic smile on his face, “So you’re going to make me say this, huh?”

  Leaning back in her chair, enjoying herself immensely, she said, “Oh yeah. I’m going to need you to spell it out for me.”

  Grimacing good naturedly, he answered, “Fair enough. I was a dickhead to you in college. We had sex and then I left without saying good-bye and never even bothered to call you. That was shitty of me.”

  He paused to look at her face, which, coincidentally, had lost some of its former humor. Finishing in a serious tone, he apologized.

  “I’m sorry.”

  After taking a moment to absorb the words, she said, “You’re not even remembering the funniest part of the whole thing though. You didn’t say good-bye, but you did shake my hand when you left. I repeat, you shook my fucking hand!”

  Deacon opened his mouth to speak and Sara put her hand up.

  “Be that as it may,” she said with a slight smirk, “I have magnanimously decided to absolve you of guilt. I mean, it was shitty but it’s been a long time. But…I have to know. Why?”

  Looking thoroughly uncomfortable, he sighed.

  “I’d love to tell you it was some sort of cranial injury, but really, I was just a dick. No matter what impression I gave you at the time, please understand. I was the problem. It wasn’t about you. Shit. That sounds even worse when I say it like that. What I mean is—”

  Taking pity on him she said, “Look, Deacon. It’s been the better part of a decade. It’s done. It won’t interfere with business. In fact, let’s never mention it again.”

  After a pause, she added, “But, seriously, thank you for the apology.”

  Another moment of awkward silence passed between them, then he rose from his chair and spoke.

  “Well gee. That sure was fun.” He followed that up with an uncharacteristically open grin.

  Snorting indelicately and rising from her seat, Sara said, “I bet that was super fun. Hey! While you’re here, did you want to take a quick tour of the kitchen area? I know you’re super focused on the food safety. It might be interesting to see what the kitchen looks like unannounced.” It was a clear attempt to steer the conversation back to business.

  Deacon held up his hand and said, “No, no. I’ve taken enough of your time up today,” as they moved by mutual consent out of her office and into the lobby.

  Nodding her assent, she said, “As you wish. The offer stands when you’ve got the time.”

  They walked the last few steps into the lobby in a companionable silence.

  He turned back to her and automatically extended his hand.

  Her lips quirked slightly as she looked down at the proffered hand.

  He smirked in that familiar way, dropped his hand, and said, “Force of habit. Okay. I’m leaving now. Good night. See you on Friday.”

  As he headed toward the door, his smirk turned into a grin.

  Unable to suppress a matching grin she agreed with, “See you on Friday. Have a good night” and gave him a tiny wave as he walked out the door.

  As he walked out of view, she walked back to her office and grabbed the phone. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for Elle to pick up.

  When she finally answered Sara said, without any preamble whatsoever, “Contracts are signed!”

  With a quick hoot, Elle agreed, “Hell yes! Did he just fax them over now? Talk about leaving you hanging!”

  “Nope. He stopped by with the contracts…and also with an apology.”

  “Oh really? So are you okay with everything now?” Elle asked.

  “Well, we’re just going to move forward with the business contract as if it didn’t happen. I wish I didn’t have that thing with Roger tonight. I really don’t think I can handle listening to him talk about himself anymore. The other night he actually tried to sell me a variable annuity at dinner. Even regular sex isn’t worth this.”

  “It’s been about three months anyway, Sara. That’s kind of your relationship expiration date anyway, right?” Elle asked, pointedly but without judgment.

  “Yeah. You busy tonight?”

  “Nope. I was just gonna hang out. Wanna come over and drink a bottle of wine with me? We can celebrate and drown our sorrows at the same time.” Sli
ghtly baffled by the comment about drowning sorrows, Sara replied, “Sure. Lemme just call and ditch Roger. I’ll be over in an hour?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll break out the Merlot and let it breathe,” Elle said with a slight snort.

  “Oh so you’re gonna open the good box of wine then? I appreciate that. It’ll go nicely with the large extra cheese and mushroom I’m picking up on my way. See ya soon,” Sara said, feeling a million times better already.

  After an uncomfortable talk with Roger, and a stop by Nino’s to grab the pizza, Sara showed up at Elle’s house in just under an hour. Sara knocked, and after Elle had opened the door, she walked in, noticed the tissues and the wine glass. Uh-oh.

  “Oh honey. What did he do this time?” Sara asked, referring to Marc, her douche-bag boyfriend. She set down the pizza and pulled Elle into a hug.

  Elle set her head on Sara’s shoulder, sniffled and said, “He cheated on me. The prick. I guess we weren’t exclusive…though he forgot to mention it until I found him fucking that tramp on my kitchen table.”

  Sara winced and glanced at the dining room area and noticed that the table was missing.

  “What a prick. I hope you burnt it. He was always a little too overly attached to that table,” Sara said, disgusted.

  “I didn’t burn it. After he and that tramp ran out of here, I did roll that ugly fucker onto the lawn though…then turned on the sprinklers. When I got up this morning, it was gone, so I can only presume that someone took it, or maybe he came and got it. Either way, I boxed his stuff up and stuck it in the garage, and changed the locks. I texted him to come clear it out. Shit bag.” Elle finished with no small amount of venom in her voice.

  Shaking her head slightly, Elle sniffled, wiped her face and smiled.

  “Tonight we celebrate. We just landed that epic contract, you’re Roger-less. I just lost one hundred and eighty pounds of asshole. I will not feel sorry for myself!”

  Sara watched her skeptically as Elle slugged back some wine.

  Setting the pizza box on the counter, she grabbed a clean wine glass and poured herself some wine. Grabbing a pizza slice from the box Elle had opened, she moved to the couch and sat down.

  “So I broke things off with Roger over the phone. He seemed pretty cool with it, actually. He said he didn’t think that it was fair for us to date anymore because I was more into him than he was me. I agreed with him, because…I feel like he never could have loved me the way I loved him.” Sara snorted into her wine glass.

  Elle cracked up, grabbed the box of tissues, and said, “C’mon. Cry it out if you need to. What an idiot.”

  Agreeing, Sara said, “You’ve got no idea. Get this. We’re in bed the other night and he’s doing this thing where he’s making his pecs jump. Then he says to me, ‘Ya know. I really need to get new shirts. Mine are starting to get too tight from all the working out I’ve been doing lately’. As if he’d seen the inside of a gym in the entire time we’d been dating. I had to get up and leave at that point.”

  Looking over to Elle laughing breathlessly on the couch, Sara went on.

  “Though Roger is clearly not a shining example, maybe you should just do what I do. If you don’t get attached, you don’t get hurt. Why don’t you try something casual for a while? Might get your mind off Marc.”

  “I dunno,” Elle said, looking skeptical. “I don’t know if I’m able to detach that way. I just wanna be loved.”

  Seeing Elle’s face fall at that thought, Sara patted her hand, then got up to bring the wine box over to the coffee table. Refilling both glasses, she sighed, not really sure what to say to make her friend feel any better.

  “So,” Elle asked, “What did Deacon say when he came and apologized?”

  Surprised by the abrupt change in conversation, Sara admitted, “It was a really good apology, so far as they go. He took total responsibility for being a dick. Then he admitted it wasn’t at all about me, and that he was the problem back then. That he hoped I didn’t feel like it was me. Told me he was sorry he hurt me.”

  Blinking, Elle asked, “Really? Well, shit. It’s gonna be hard to hate the guy now. I was fully prepared to dislike him on principle. What did you say?”

  “I told him that we’d never speak of it again. That it happened years ago and it was fine now. That I appreciated the apology though,” Sara said, feeling uncomfortable again.

  “Yeah. That was a really good apology, Sara. Like, where do you go from there? I’m assuming he’s still a stone-cold fox, right?” Elle asked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

  “God, yeah. So freaking hot. Just wait ’til you meet him. That doesn’t matter though. We’re strictly business associates.”

  “Yeah right, Sara. Business associates that have seen each other naked. Hopefully his apology was just an aberration and he’s still a tool.”

  “Hopefully. I’ll find out on Friday. I’m supposed to see the on-site kitchen and plan out the menu. I’m presuming that I’ll see him at some point. Just gonna do my best to keep it cool, and professional. Personable, but not exactly friendly.”

  Snorting, Elle said, “Good luck with that.”

  Chapter 4

  The receptionist rang through to Deacon’s office at about one thirty on Friday afternoon to let him know that Sara had arrived. Thrilled by the idea of abandoning the invoicing on his desk in favor of dealing with actual human beings, he walked out to the lobby to greet her.

  She smiled as he approached, a genuine smile, not her fake professional smile. He felt his mouth curving as well.

  “Hey. Welcome. C’mon over. I got a temporary badge from security for you, but before you leave, stop by and get something permanent,” Deacon said, handing over the name badge.

  “Sure thing. Just point me toward the kitchens?” Sara asked.

  “I’ll walk you down. I wanted to give you a quick tour and talk about next week anyway.”

  Nodding, Sara said, “Lead the way.”

  Headed out the door of the executive offices, they headed for the elevator, pressed the down button, then stepped in.

  Immediately aware of the closed in space, she tried to make small talk by asking, “Had a good week so far?”

  With a somewhat sardonic smile, he said, “It’s been an interesting week, that’s for sure. You?”

  “Insane week. One of my employees went into premature labor the other day. We’ve been scrambling to fill her spot in the meantime. She’s gonna be on bed rest for another three months. Luckily, we’ve got some folks coming in on Monday to interview. God, I hope one of them is a fit. I’ve made more mini-appetizers in the last week than I have in the entire rest of my life.”

  Deacon winced. “Ouch. Death by jalapeno popper? Your employee. She’s okay though, right?”

  Nodding, Sara said, “Yep. That’s really the only bright spot. This is her first child. She was terrified. I’m so glad she’s okay.” Pausing for a moment, she looked slightly disgusted and said, “And seriously, jalapeno poppers? Not in my kitchen.”

  Deacon held up his hands and laughed, as if to say, “Okay. You win.”

  The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival. Walking through the main lobby of the building, he stopped to point out the security office, a commissary that appeared to serve small snacks, and finally walked through the large swinging double doors into a monster-sized kitchen.

  Taking in the stainless appliances, the large refrigerators, and fryers, she whistled.

  “You weren’t playing around when you said industrial kitchen!”

  “It came with the building but we never really had use for it before. We added the refrigerators, another range, and this.”

  He gestured to the small doorway off to the side of the kitchen.

  Poking her head in, she looked around the office, taking in the desk, chair, phone, printer, and giant couch against one wall. Looking at him curiously, she watched as he reached into his suit jacket pocket and fished out a key.

  Handing it to her, he said,
“You’ll need some sort of work space when you’re here, probably. So here you go. If there’s anything I missed, let me know?”

  Laughing, Sara took the key and said, “I’m really trying not to notice the fact that this is double the size of my office at the shop. But you’re right. This is a great space. I brought my laptop with me, so I’ll be able to get to work on next Tuesday’s menu and the ordering.” Pausing for a minute, she looked around again and met his eye, saying, “Thank you.”

  He stared at her for a moment, watching the unguarded pleasure in her eyes, then refocused his attention, responding with, “You’re welcome. I know you and Chris had briefly discussed Tuesday. We were thinking something buffet style. We’re announcing the acquisition of a new account. We’re taking over PR for the New Orleans Jazz. If you can put together some sort of theme, then that would be great. There should be one hundred and twenty of us in all.”

  Nodding, Sara said, “Absolutely. Monday, I’d like to look at the actual space to see where I’ll be setting up. For now, I think I’m good, though. Thanks again for setting up the office. That makes it a lot easier if I don’t have to go back and forth. Oh, and once I have the menu, I’ll e-mail it to you if you want.”

  “Absolutely. On that note, I’ll leave you to it,” Deacon said as he walked out of the room.

  Heading back up to his office, he pulled a slight face as he thought about the invoices. Somehow accounting had managed to double-bill some clients, and not bill others. After cleaning house a few weeks ago, Deacon needed to figure out what the hell they were doing down there, so he’d taken the last six months’ worth of invoices and tried to match them to payments.

  Finally making headway after a solid two hours of work at his desk, Deacon leaned back and stretched his legs. Seeing the new e-mail from Sara in his inbox, he clicked on it. She had outlined the menu she had in mind. It all sounded pretty good to him.

  Soups:

  Cajun Meatball Stew

  Shrimp Gumbo

  Main Entree:

  Blackened Redfish

  Spicy Jambalaya