Recipe for Romance Read online

  He retreated to his office to get himself under control and then thought over his conversation with Kirsty. She couldn't be lying. Everything about her shouted loyalty and honesty. If only he could find her resume. He'd asked Antoine to see if the file had been placed with the kitchen records, but the head chef had given him a vague reply. If Reeve believed Kirsty told the truth, it meant Antoine lied when he said he'd informed her of the changes. Reeve still couldn't see why such a distinguished chef would need to lie, but decided he must do some further investigation into the man's background. He made up his mind to get both Chef Antoine and his assistant to his office the next morning for a meeting. They had to thrash out where the misunderstandings were originating. He reached for the phone

  KIRSTY FLOPPED INTO Antoine's chair, her head in her hands.

  What on earth can I do? He doesn't believe me, Chef thinks I'm useless and I'm getting the blame for everything.

  After a few minutes Kirsty came to the conclusion any more arguments at this stage would be futile. The orders Chef and the manager decided on were getting corrupted before they reached her—or they weren't reaching her at all. Her anger surged again as she imagined Chef Antoine telling Reeve Stuart she didn't have enough experience to run a kitchen! Kirsty managed to calm down by deep breathing and then decided to wait until she could see Antoine and Reeve together. Perhaps a confrontation with both of them would help her sort this mess out.

  Her fingers still curled tightly around the paper and to keep the peace she decided to follow Reeve's instructions. Her gaze ran down the list as she smoothed the sheet out, and to her surprise, found his orders corresponded with her intentions for the day, almost to the letter. Reeve popped in at intervals to oversee things during the day, and Kirsty maintained a scrupulous politeness with him.

  Gina dropped in for a coffee during her afternoon break, and Kirsty asked her friend for her advice.

  "It's getting really bad, Gina. Mr. Stuart thinks I'm deliberately setting out to provoke him—or he thinks I'm so stupid I can't remember a single thing. Chef Antoine is always so sure he's told me the orders from on high. I've decided to ask to see them both together to sort it out. Do you know I'm starting to believe it may be my fault? Perhaps I am losing my memory."

  "Don't be daft, Kirsty. The whole situation sounds a bit odd to me. Those two talk to one another and make decisions, which neither of them bothers to tell you. You know you're not lying, so it's one of them. Personally, I think it's Chef Antoine. If Mr. Stuart's telling the truth, then Chef's not passing on the orders, and you're caught in the middle," Gina said. "If you want my opinion, I think you're doing the right thing. Get the two of them together and thrash it out. If you don't, it's you who's going to be given the push, not Chef Antoine or Mr. Stuart."

  "Exactly what I thought." Kirsty fell silent for a few moments. "Mr. Stuart's right about one thing. We can't carry on like this. I agree with you about Chef Antoine, too. Forgetting to tell me things is the main problem. Something's bugging him, but he shouldn't allow it to interfere with work, and what's more important, he shouldn't lie to cover up for himself. Well, they'll soon realize I've had enough. I found Mr. Stuart's little speech this morning downright insulting, and I'm not standing for it any longer."

  "Good for you. I take it Antoine's still behaving like a weirdo." Gina grimaced. "I don't know how you put up with him and his tantrums. I'd have chucked the job in long ago."

  "He's not too bad normally. His artistic temperament makes him go off the deep end, but until recently he's been very good to me. He's shown me ways of handling suppliers and shortcuts with recipes. I won't have to put up with this for much longer. Another six months and I'll feel confident enough to apply for a head chef's position somewhere else. If I last another six months!"

  "You going to stay in hotels, or try for a restaurant?" Gina wanted to know.

  "I'm not sure yet." Kirsty felt glad for the change of subject. "I thought I might have a bash at the restaurant they're opening in the new theatre in the city, but they probably want somebody with a bit more experience than I have."

  "Hey, don't sell yourself short. You never know till you try. You might surprise yourself and get the job." Gina grinned at her friend. "Maybe they're looking for someone young with a lot of innovative ideas. You know you're always complaining you don't make full use of your training in Antoine's kitchen."

  "Fool!" Kirsty punched her friend's shoulder affectionately. "Well, I don't have to make up my mind yet. Applications don't close until the end of the month. Mind you, the way things are going here, I think I'll send off for the form. I can always wait until I see how things are going before I fill it in."

  NEITHER OF THE WOMEN noticed Reeve standing behind the slightly opened doorway to the restaurant, and he moved away fast before Gina left the kitchen. He thought about what he'd overheard once he was back in his office. Kirsty intended to apply for a post at the new theatre restaurant. He wondered exactly what position.

  He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on their conversation. When the opportunity presented itself, he thought it might give him a deeper understanding of Kirsty. If either girl had seen him, they would probably have assumed he had taken his usual afternoon stroll, checking everything ran smoothly in the hotel.

  A frown creased his forehead. It occurred to him every time he'd entered the kitchen, he saw Kirsty Lawrence, including the afternoons when kitchen workers usually took a few hours off. Senior staff normally took it in turns to remain on standby, but since Reeve had arrived at the hotel, Chef Antoine had always been absent. He must check and see the hours Kirsty had been working recently. He needed to avoid trouble with the authorities about staff working over the legal hours.

  CHEF ANTOINE APPEARED next morning, and Kirsty approached him with trepidation. He nodded and waved her away after her report on the kitchen events of the previous day. Kirsty stood her ground, even though her voice shook with nervousness.

  "Chef, I'd like to arrange a meeting with Mr. Stuart and yourself, please."

  "I beg your pardon?" He frowned at Kirsty. "May I ask the reason for this request, Lawrence?"

  "I'd rather wait until we meet with Mr. Stuart," Kirsty stated, her voice steadying as her confidence grew.

  "Very well." Chef Antoine reached for the phone and, after speaking for a few seconds, he turned once more to Kirsty. "Mr. Stuart says he can spare us a few moments if we go to his office now. I hope you're not wasting everyone's time with some silly nonsense, Lawrence."

  "I don't think what I have to say is nonsense, Chef."

  Antoine led the way to the manager's office with a grunt of irritation.

  WHILE REEVE WAITED for Kirsty and Antoine to arrive, he checked her time sheet and saw the sous-chef hadn't had any time off since he'd arrived at the hotel. This would have to be rectified. He felt nervous about this meeting, but mentally rapped himself over the knuckles. Why should he feel nervous, for goodness sake? He'd been going to propose the meeting himself, but he couldn't work out why Kirsty had suggested it. Maybe she meant to bring up her allegation Chef Antoine hadn't informed her of yesterday's changes. He certainly would if she didn't. He wanted to get to the bottom of his problems with the sous-chef once and for all.

  Chef Antoine and Kirsty came through the door, and he noticed her tired gaze roamed around the room, taking in the changes Reeve had made to the office. Dusty old files had littered the desk in his predecessor's day, sharing it with coffee-stained cups and a clutter of pens. Reeve had placed the files in a cabinet, and now the room looked neat and tidy. His uncluttered wooden desk gleamed with a warm glow reflecting the pen holder sitting neatly on the edge of the desk nearest the visitors.

  "May I assume you've come to apologize for your behavior yesterday morning, Miss Lawrence?" Reeve waved them to the vacant chairs in front of his desk, then leaned back in his own chair and steepled his fingers, keeping his eyes free of emotion as he looked at her. He hoped she wouldn't apologize—this would mean Kirsty had be
en in the wrong, and he wanted so much for her to be telling the truth. Antoine looked from one to the other, a baffled expression on his face.

  "On the contrary, Mr. Stuart." Kirsty's firm tone surprised him. "I've asked for this meeting to clear up the confusion which exists between us."

  "Excellent, Miss Lawrence. Let us list the areas of confusion. You conveniently forget orders and, to make matters worse, you're rude and question every word I say. Your work is totally unprofessional, and I'd be surprised if you ever manage to gain your full qualifications as a chef."

  By stressing her supposed faults Reeve hoped to provoke her into expressing her feelings, and thereby help him get to the truth. Kirsty picked up the challenge, a look of determination on her face to show him he was the person in the wrong.

  "Actually, Mr. Stuart, I'm already fully qualified as a chef. I felt I needed more practical experience before I applied for a position as head chef."

  Reeve blinked in surprise.

  "My problem, Mr. Stuart, is the orders you talk about are a complete mystery to me. This is why I've asked Chef Antoine to be present. I hope he can clarify why I received no information you were to be in charge of the kitchen during his absence."

  "Nonsense, Lawrence." Antoine's spluttered response didn't ring true to Reeve. "When I returned from discussing the matter with Mr. Stuart, I told you he'd be in charge during my absence. You've obviously forgotten. Perhaps Mr. Stuart is right when he says your professionalism leaves a lot to be desired."

  "I beg your pardon, Chef. You may have thought you told me about Mr. Stuart being in charge, but I can assure you, you most certainly did not."

  Reeve's expression didn't change. He hid his pleasure that Kirsty had not backed down from the confrontation. He'd been right. She had been telling the truth. Kirsty must believe the two men were ganging up on her and laying all the blame at her feet. He watched her jaw tighten as she prepared to do battle for her reputation.

  "This matter should be fairly easy to resolve." Reeve reached for the phone on his desk. "We can get one of the kitchen maids in here. They are always aware of what's going on, and with their help we should be able to sort everything out quite quickly."

  He glanced at Kirsty, waiting for a sign she would back down, but her arms folded defiantly. The expression in her eyes showed anger. Reeve's eyebrow lifted. He looked across at Chef Antoine and placed his hand firmly on the phone.

  "Wait!" Antoine looked flustered. "It is possible Lawrence could be right. I may have forgotten to tell her you'd be in charge of the kitchen. We've been so busy the last few weeks I could've forgotten to mention the matter."

  "Could we clear up the matter of my first cancelled day off, Chef?" Kirsty wanted to take the opportunity to sort out the other misunderstandings.

  "I admit I thought I'd told you your day off had been cancelled, Lawrence. However, on reflection, it is possible I overlooked this item as well. I've had a lot on my mind recently."

  Reeve accepted Chef Antoine had been the one who'd lied. All three of them knew the rain had caused the last seven days to be very quiet. Antoine had also assured him he'd told Kirsty of their decision.

  "Well, Miss Lawrence, are you happy with the situation now?" Reeve looked at her, keeping his face totally expressionless.

  "There is another matter I wish to discuss, Mr. Stuart—the extra hours I've worked. I usually get paid for these, but you mentioned time off in lieu instead. I'd like to know where I stand in regard to this. I'm getting extremely tired with no time off at all. I should also like it noted I feel insulted by the suggestion an administrator can run a kitchen better than a fully qualified chef."

  "Really, Lawrence, there's no need to bother Mr. Stuart with these trivialities—"

  "I'm sorry, Chef. I don't consider them trivialities." Reeve admired the way Kirsty refused to be subdued. "My professional ability and qualifications have been called into question. We need to clear up this matter."

  "Oh, very well, Lawrence. We'll give you another chance to prove yourself. With regards to the overtime worked you will, of course, be paid for this as usual." Chef looked annoyed with Kirsty. She'd brought up a matter he considered closed. "I really don't see why you're making a big fuss over such a small matter."

  "On the contrary, Chef Antoine." Reeve spoke quietly, yet firmly. "Miss Lawrence will be required to take time off in lieu. The hotel cannot afford to pay her for the excessive amount of extra time we've asked her to work recently."

  Antoine looked at him, his expression blank, but his eyes showing the turbulent feelings surging beneath the calm exterior.

  "If this is what you wish, Mr. Stuart." The man held his voice rigidly polite. "However, I must insist you consult me before confirming which days off Lawrence will be allowed. It would cause a lot of inconvenience if certain items are on the menu and she isn't there. Please accept my apology for any misunderstanding my forgetfulness has caused you. I can only state pressure of work has pushed these matters to the back of my mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. Lawrence, come along."

  Antoine rose and headed for the office door. Kirsty stood to follow him, but Reeve spoke before she had taken more than a few steps.

  "One moment, Antoine. I'd appreciate a word alone with Miss Lawrence, if it's convenient."

  Chef Antoine nodded briskly and, without turning round, left the room.

  "Please be seated, Miss Lawrence. I owe you an apology. I can imagine how upsetting it must be to have conflicting orders given to you, or not given to you as has happened in this case. I realize I've accused you of lying on several occasions. It put you in a very awkward position, and I'm sorry for any slurs I may have inadvertently made on your character.

  "The circumstances of our first meeting gave me a false impression of your abilities. I realized immediately you were laboring under very difficult conditions. Could we possibly wipe the slate clean and start afresh? I promise not to interfere in the running of the kitchen unless we both feel it's absolutely necessary. I'll also respect your competence and qualifications and discuss any details with you before I implement them. Does this sound fair?" Reeve cocked an eyebrow at Kirsty, with warmth in his eyes.

  "Very fair, Mr. Stuart. I should be happy to start afresh." The expression on her face showed surprise he was big enough to apologize for his mistakes. "The last few weeks have been upsetting."

  "Well, let's say no more on the subject then. Please let me know when you wish to take your time off so we have no more confusion. I will then approve it with Chef Antoine."

  KIRSTY ROSE AT THE same time as Reeve, bobbed her head and muttered, "Thank you."

  Reeve coughed, forcing her to look up. He held out his hand, and she nervously reached across the desk to touch his outstretched fingers.

  Reeve's grip felt dry and warm as his large hand enveloped her smaller one. The warmth raced up Kirsty's arm and flooded through her body, sending nervous and excited emotions surging through her. The heat reached her neck, and a flush crept rapidly from chin to the top of forehead, while her heart beat an irregular tattoo. Kirsty pulled her hand back hastily and ducked her head. Whatever had happened? Her body had reacted like a teenager with a crush, with no control whatsoever. From beneath lowered lashes she glanced up to see if Reeve had noticed her extraordinary reaction.

  His grey eyes looked puzzled, and his head tilted to one side as he glanced at her. She felt he was looking at her properly for the first time. The expression on his face told her he had at last realized a person stood before him, not just an unruly employee.

  "I should be getting back to the kitchen. We're very busy." She hurried from the room before Reeve could comment.

  Chapter Four

  Kirsty donned outdoor clothes, ready to go home at the end of the day, but Chef Antoine called her to the center of the kitchen.

  "Lawrence!" His voice boomed out, and the other staff looked up in surprise. "Due to the fact business is slow this week, you may take your day off tomorr
ow."

  "Thank you, Chef." Kirsty lowered her head to hide a smile.

  Chef Antoine turned away, and her breath came out in a sigh of relief. At last—a break from the hotel. Working long hours had brought her to the edge of exhaustion, and Chef Antoine had been unbearable since their morning visit to Reeve's office. Every time he'd spoken to her, he'd done so in a clear voice, loud enough to ensure the other staff heard his words. Presumably he thought this would eliminate any chance of a misunderstanding.

  Maybe the tiredness had affected her nerves. Since the handshake in Reeve's office her nerves had jumped every time the doors to the restaurant swung open. Confused by her reaction Kirsty didn't know whether to be sorry or glad he'd not made an appearance since this morning. Hopefully a day off would give her time to sort her feelings and pull herself together. Perhaps the flu had infected her. This would explain the strange feelings experienced when Reeve touched her.

  Kirsty found it difficult to settle down to sleep. Every time her eyes closed her reaction to Reeve's handshake came to mind. Did he know the mere touch of his hand sent her senses spinning? Maybe he hadn't been aware of her reaction. The man probably thought his sous-chef had been in a hurry to get back to her work. Kirsty tried to think of other things while tossing and turning in bed, but Reeve's face and clear grey eyes haunted her. Eventually lack of sleep won, and her eyelids fluttered shut and remained closed.

  The following morning she woke to the sun shining through her bedroom curtains. From its position in the sky the time must have been around nine o'clock. Kirsty slowly stretched, reveling in her leisure then pushed the duvet back and unfolded herself from her bed. She dragged on denim shorts and her favorite baggy yellow tee shirt, and hurried to the kitchen, determined not to miss any more of this lovely day.