Recipe for Romance Page 3

  Chapter Two

  Kirsty frowned as she returned to her work station. The nerve of the man! Somehow he'd managed to convince Chef his biased point of view was the truth. Now Antoine thought the rudeness had all been on her side.

  Kirsty wearily drove her old car down from the Whangaparaoa Peninsula through the lamp-lit streets of Orewa at the end of a long day. A few blocks back from the highway she turned into the driveway of her rented house. Once inside the front door she climbed the stairs. Sighing, she sank into a chair in the lounge before kicking off her shoes.

  Her mind went back over the day's events as her body gradually relaxed. Antoine had whipped the staff into a frenzy of activity, presumably to prove to Reeve Stuart his kitchen ran with total efficiency. The temps were unfamiliar with Chef's methods. Every time he'd had to repeat his instructions, he'd looked at Kirsty and sighed dramatically. The look of sadness in his eyes gave the impression he reluctantly blamed her for the staff's inadequacy. Luckily Reeve had not returned to the kitchen. Kirsty would have found it difficult to be polite to the new manager, still smarting from Chef's unreasonable reprimand.

  Reluctantly she dragged herself from the chair and headed for the bathroom. Tomorrow was her day off. This meant a long lie-in before spending a lazy day wandering around the shops. The housework could wait! With a bit of luck she'd be able to forget the overbearing Reeve Stuart until she returned to work on Thursday morning. Ten minutes later with her shirt-style nightie tucked around her knees she snuggled down in the warm bed. A happy anticipation curved her lips as sleep overtook her.

  The next morning, Kirsty ate her breakfast in the sunshine on the outside deck, wearing a toweling robe to protect her against the cool morning air. Through the gap in the houses the Pacific Ocean shone a deeper blue than the cloudless sky. The smell of the sea drifted from the beach.

  “Heaven.” Kirsty smiled and sighed with pleasure. “Absolute heaven.”

  Halfway through her muesli the phone inside the house rang. Hurrying inside, she answered it with a cheerful, "Hi, Kirsty speaking."

  "Good morning, Miss Lawrence." Reeve Stuart's cool tones came down the line, and her heart sank. Why was he ringing on her day off?

  "Good morning, Mr. Stuart." Kirsty kept her voice even.

  "I'm ringing to see if you're ill."

  "Ill?" Kirsty repeated in a confused voice. What made him think she might be ill? "No, I'm perfectly all right, thank you."

  "Then may I ask why you're not at work today?"

  "I beg your pardon?" Kirsty spluttered, her calm shattered.

  "Chef asked me to find out why you're absent today."

  "Why I'm absent today?" She heard herself repeating the words, but in her confusion couldn't help herself.

  "Really, Miss Lawrence, I'd have thought the question to be quite straightforward. Why aren't you here? You should've started work two hours ago."

  Kirsty heard restrained impatience in his voice, and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It wouldn't help to lose her temper.

  "I'm afraid there seems to have been a misunderstanding, Mr. Stuart," she said, clearly and carefully. "Wednesday is my day off, and Chef Antoine is well aware of this."

  Hopefully he'll now know he can't talk to me like in such a high-handed way, she thought, seeing her self-satisfied smile reflected in the mirror hanging on the wall.

  "Yes, I am aware of this, Miss Lawrence."

  Kirsty blinked in surprise. If he knew her day off was today, why was he bothering her?

  "Because of the sickness of the kitchen staff, Chef Antoine tells me he asked you to work your day off this week. Of course, you'll be compensated for this at a later date."

  "I most certainly received no request to work today." Kirsty's indignation spilled over into her words.

  "Miss Lawrence!" Reeve Stuart sounded at the end of his patience. "Chef Antoine assures me he told you yesterday afternoon you'd be needed today. I don't have the time to argue with you. We'll sort this out later. I'll expect you within the hour."

  Before Kirsty could utter another word, Reeve hung up.

  REEVE PLACED THE RECEIVER on its hook and sighed. What was it about the sous-chef that irritated him so much? Every time he met her he saw a smoldering rage deep in her green eyes. Even speaking to her on the phone he could hear her suppressed anger. Her moods were totally her own, despite the fact she reminded him of Samantha. Samantha had been cool and loving at all times, and only when he told her he wouldn't marry her had her true colors shown through.

  Chef Antoine's voice shouting at his staff reached him before he entered the kitchen. The chef waved a hand to dismiss everyone as soon as he saw Reeve and hurried across the room.

  "I've contacted Miss Lawrence," Reeve told him. "She'll be here within the hour."

  "Could I have a quiet word with you about Lawrence, Mr. Stuart?" He drew Reeve over to his desk where the other staff could not overhear them. "Lawrence is very good at general kitchen duties. As I mentioned yesterday, she's barely qualified. I decided to give her a chance to start her career, unfortunately I'm beginning to think I made a mistake. She's a nice-enough girl, but is not suitable for a position of such responsibility." Reeve saw the Kirsty on Monday morning in his mind, disheveled and streaked with flour. Part of him wanted to help the forlorn waif, and this was why he'd assisted her in the kitchen. He could easily have drafted in someone from another of the hotels, but instead he'd rolled up his sleeves to help.

  He didn't trust Chef Antoine, but Reeve could see no reason why such a professional person would lie. The phone call to Kirsty this morning had confused him. Her voice had sounded truly surprised when he'd asked why she hadn't turned up for work.

  "You may be right, Chef Antoine. I haven't had time to sort through everything yet, and until I do, I'd rather there weren't any major changes."

  Chef's eyes looked worried, then sly, and then calm—all in the matter of a few seconds. Of course the man could be concerned about his sous-chef's competency reflecting on his own reputation. Somehow Reeve didn't think this was the reason.

  Reeve left the room. Despite his inner disquiet, an hour later his feet led him back toward the kitchen. Resolutely he dragged himself in the other direction. Let Chef Antoine handle things, he decided.

  KIRSTY KNEW SHE COULD be out of a job if she didn't go in to the hotel, as tempted as she was to ignore the call. Working for Chef Antoine gave her a high status in the New Zealand catering world, and in the future his recommendation would help her get a head chef's job. Once her name became well known, she meant to open her own restaurant. Kirsty needed to be careful in her dealings with the tempestuous chef to achieve this. She loved working at the small Hibiscus Hotel—or at least she had until Monday. The difference one person could make had taken her by surprise.

  Absolute chaos ruled the kitchen when she entered. Chef Antoine roared at one of the temporary staff, and Kirsty could see the other one cowering in the corner, not wanting to be noticed.

  "When I say clean, I mean clean!" Chef Antoine yelled, loud enough for Kirsty to hear him as she entered the changing room. "Now do it properly this time."

  Kirsty quietly put on her jacket, checked trousers and the hat of her sous-chef's uniform. Her nose wrinkled in disappointment at the thought of the blue jeans and baggy yellow tee shirt she'd laid out when she got up this morning. She washed her hands, then entered the main room with a sigh for the loss of her day off. After checking the day's menu, Kirsty went to the pantry and the fridge. She headed for her work station, her arms laden with butter and eggs, when Chef turned and saw her.

  "Lawrence!" He roared, his voice rattling the pots and pans hanging above the work surfaces. "Where in Hades have you been? You're late!'

  "I thought I had the day off, Chef." Kirsty spoke calmly, putting the butter and eggs carefully on the table.

  "Day off!" Chef pressed a hand dramatically to his brow. "What sort of staff have I got? Two sick and the third thinks she can take a day off
any time she feels like it!"

  "Today is Wednesday, Chef. My normal day off," Kirsty quietly reminded him.

  "I have no time to deal with such petty details now. Please get started on the soufflés at once."

  "Yes, Chef."

  Kirsty whisked the eggs, assuming the conversation had finished. Antoine edged closer to Kirsty, and he lowered his voice.

  "Lawrence, with regard to today's little misunderstanding. To stop this happening in future, it might be best if you check with me every Tuesday. Then I can let you know whether or not it's convenient for you to have your day off."

  "Yes, Chef."

  Kirsty didn't know whether to smile or frown as Antoine walked away. To her mind Antoine was unsure whether he had told her she would have to work today. He couldn't admit to Reeve he hadn't asked her to come in, so he needed to smooth things over with Kirsty. His bland "whether or not it's convenient" sounded more like Reeve Stuart than Chef Antoine, and this infuriated Kirsty.

  I don't mind working my day off in an emergency, but I draw the line at those two men assuming I'll cancel everything whenever it suits them. Anyone would think I don't have a life outside the hotel.

  Later in the day Reeve entered the kitchen to speak to Chef. Antoine had left the hotel for a few hours, and the temp directed him outside to where Kirsty sat enjoying a cup of coffee in the afternoon sunshine.

  "Miss Lawrence..."

  This time Kirsty spilled her coffee.

  Does he move quietly on purpose? Perhaps he likes creeping up on people, hoping to catch them out in some misdemeanor.

  "Mr. Stuart." She brushed ineffectively at the stains on her jacket. "Is there something I can do for you?"

  "Please ask Chef Antoine to ring me when he returns to the hotel. You will remember to tell him, won't you?"

  "Of course, Mr. Stuart. I'm quite capable of remembering such a small matter." Kirsty spoke sarcastically, bristling at the implied criticism. She expected him to go back into the hotel, but he stared at her for a few moments before speaking again.

  "Miss Lawrence, I realize you were working under difficult circumstances when we first met. It's no excuse for your attitude now. In future I shall expect a much higher degree of efficiency and politeness from you."

  Kirsty opened her mouth to speak. He held up his hand to silence her. "No. Please wait until I've finished. This morning's mix-up must not be repeated. If you have a faulty memory, it might be best to write things down in order to remember them. It's also not very professional to blame your forgetfulness on another member of the staff."

  He must have taken Kirsty's astonished silence as agreement and turned to go back into the hotel.

  "Exactly what mix up are you referring to, Mr. Stuart?" Kirsty asked, her voice dangerously even.

  He turned to look at her, and, for a moment, Kirsty regretted her question. The man standing rigidly in front of her was not used to having his word questioned.

  "Miss Lawrence..." His voice sounded clipped and even. "You are well aware I'm referring to your lateness this morning. Please do not pretend innocence."

  "Mr. Stuart, I have already apologized for our unfortunate first meeting. Surely I should be asked to give up my day off, not ordered to work." Kirsty's eyes flashed with anger. Her voice remained flat and unemotional. "I should also like to make it clear I have no reason to lie. If I had agreed to work today, then I would have arrived at the hotel at my usual time."

  "Unfortunately, Miss Lawrence, I only have your word for this." Reeve Stuart looked thoughtful. "Chef Antoine tells me otherwise. I do agree you should be asked, not told, to work your day off. Perhaps in this instance we might put it down as a misunderstanding?"

  Several moments passed before Kirsty could think of anything further to say, and by that time he'd taken her silence for agreement and re-entered the hotel. Her anger bubbled to the surface, and she released it with a few well-chosen words into the empty air. Close on the heels of anger came despair. How unfair! Reeve had her pegged as a liar with a bad attitude on a mere two days acquaintance. His determination to find fault with her had won Chef to his side, and the two of them were ganging up on her. Kirsty decided not to mention the conversation to Antoine. Her actions would prove to both men her capability and efficiency, as well as her ability to remember instructions.

  REEVE KEPT HIS THOUGHTS under tight control as he walked toward his office, automatically responding to greetings from those he passed. He threw himself into his chair, and only then did he allow himself to think about his meeting with the sous-chef. Kirsty Lawrence had twisted everything round to make him appear in the wrong. Her total control of the situation, and her response to his warning made him question the head chef's assurances. Antoine swore he'd asked Kirsty to work today, and she'd agreed.

  Could Antoine be lying? The question was—why? The head chef had no need to lie as far as Reeve could fathom, whereas Kirsty would have to cover up her mistakes if she wanted to keep her job. He hoped she knew lies could jeopardize her whole career.

  He decided to check her resume and spent several minutes searching through the personnel files. Kirsty's details weren't there. The head chef would be responsible for hiring his own staff. Maybe Antoine kept the missing file with the kitchen records, presumably in the filing cabinet by his desk.

  Kirsty's face flashed into Reeve's mind. He longed to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. Then they could start afresh. He smiled to himself as he thought of how she'd stood up to him. Ramrod straight, eyes flashing, even her auburn hair took on an extra glow when her anger erupted. It would be amusing to take her in his arms and kiss her until she looked up at him adoringly and—No!

  How had his imagination run so wild? He grinned ruefully. The last part was miles from the truth. Kirsty would never look at him adoringly—like an angry spitting tiger maybe—but not adoringly.

  ANTOINE DROVE HIS STAFF to distraction in his bid to impress the new management over the next few days, leaving Kirsty with no time to relax. Thank goodness she ate her meals at the hotel. By the time she shut the front door behind her, she barely had enough strength to undress and get into bed. Nothing was left over for cooking a meal.

  Kirsty's resolution to prove her efficiency wilted under Chef's determination to find fault with everything. His famous temper erupted on Friday and brought Kirsty near to tears.

  "Lawrence!" He appeared at her side and threw a pan of white sauce onto her work station. "What do you call this?"

  Kirsty swallowed and picked up the pan to look inside. The surface of the sauce looked like the moon, all pits, lumps and craters. A burnt smell drifted up to her nose. How on earth had this happened? She'd only finished making it a few minutes before and had left a perfectly smooth sauce cooling on the rack beside the cooking range.

  "I'm waiting for an explanation, Lawrence."

  "White sauce, Chef." Kirsty frowned. "I left it on the cooling rack. I don't know how it got like this."

  "Stop making excuses for your incompetence, Lawrence. If the sauce didn't turn out right, you should have said so, then made a new batch. No, don't do it now." He picked up the pan as her hand reached toward it. "As usual, I must do things myself if I want them done correctly."

  Kirsty stared at Antoine's back as he marched across to the sink and threw the pan into the water. She needed to convince him the ruined sauce had been fine, but tiredness sapped her will to argue. Working ten days without time off, and not having any afternoon breaks this week had exhausted her. Tears blurred her eyes as she turned back to the job at hand. How could Antoine be so mean to her? He didn't listen to any of her explanations. His intention focused on proving her incompetency to Reeve.

  She felt someone standing nearby and looked up defensively. Reeve Stuart! Trust him to turn up at the worst possible moment. He looked at her thoughtfully before moving across to speak to Chef Antoine. The two men glanced in her direction several times during their conversation, and Kirsty felt like screaming.r />
  Had she made a mistake with the sauce? No, she most certainly had not! What could have gone wrong? The tiredness made her doubt herself. If only she could take time for herself, things might fall into perspective.

  Reeve left her alone over the weekend. He ignored Kirsty completely on the few occasions their paths crossed or looked straight through her as if she didn't exist! He addressed a point a few inches above the top of her head when forced to speak to her.

  Everything ran smoothly on Chef's day off the following Monday. Both the regular kitchen maids had returned to work the previous day, and, despite her tiredness, Kirsty felt confident the day would pass uneventfully. This was her chance to prove to Chef Antoine he needn't worry about leaving her in charge. She must show the new management she could run the kitchen in a capable manner.

  Reeve appeared an hour after Kirsty started work. He looked around, walked over and checked the menu tacked to the day board, then left through the restaurant doors. Kirsty objected to being spied on, but he hadn't made any comment, so she let it go. His next impromptu appearance came during the morning coffee break.

  Chef Antoine had handed Monday's menu to Kirsty the day before, with strict instructions no dishes were to be changed. The menu called for soup of the day, a main course of roast lamb served with mint sauce, duchess potatoes and steamed vegetables. The usual dessert trolley stood as another option for the third course. Panini stacks, wedge potatoes and salad were an alternative to the roast. Kirsty wondered why Antoine had taken the unusual step of putting in a second choice.

  Kirsty left her helpers to prepare the vegetables and soup ingredients, whilst she got the meat into the oven. They were all taking a well-earned rest when Reeve breezed through the swing doors. He walked over to the gas hobs and checked the pans, ignoring the three of them. Then he turned and looked over the various food preparations on the work surfaces. He frowned, and beckoned to Kirsty. She rose and crossed the room, leaving her companions to carry on with their coffee.