All For You (3 page)

Her nerves flared as soon as she stepped into the café. Anna looked around, relieved that Max hadn’t arrived yet. She walked toward Eve, who manned the front counter along with her part-time barista Kristin.

Eve’s face lit up as Anna approached and she stepped out from behind the counter, her arms outstretched. “It’s been a long time, stranger! Your sister tells me you’re conquering the world one tech company at a time.”

“We do what we can.” She hugged Eve, already feeling better. Eve and Freya were best friends, so Eve was like another sister to her.

Gasping, Eve pulled away and pointed. “Nice shoes. Didn’t we get those together, ages ago?”

“On one of our girls’ days with Freya.” Anna modeled the leopard-print kitten heels she’d found deep in her closet. Eve loved shoes. Freya was more of a lingerie girl, so between the two of them Anna had developed an appreciation for both.

“What brings you here?” Eve asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Want me to get a drink started for you?” Kristin asked with a smile from the other side of the bar.

“A martini would be great. Or maybe a double shot of whiskey.”

Kristin leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “I have something better. It’s called
coffee
.”

“If you think that’ll cut it.”

“I’ll make you a special, guaranteed to put you in a happy place.” Kristin rubbed her belly, which had just started to protrude from her pregnancy.

“Who are you meeting that has you so tense?” Eve’s gaze focused behind Anna, and her eyes widened. “
Oh
. I get it.”

Anna turned around just as Max strode in, his gaze focused all on her. She felt herself go hot and then clammy.

Which annoyed her, because this was just
Max
. At one time, he’d been her closest friend, next to her sister.

So she smiled defiantly, searching his face for signs that he was too in love, too committed to the other woman, to want Anna again. She saw nothing but his clear green gaze studying her. She wondered what he was thinking.

At one time she’d have asked him flat out. When had she become guarded? Probably when she’d become drab.

That was going to change. Lifting her chin, she smiled at him and lifted on her toes to kiss his cheek. Gosh, he smelled so great. “Thanks for meeting me, Max. You want something?”

He greeted Eve with a kiss on both her cheeks. “A
cortado
, please.”

She nodded at Kristin, who gave Max a wolfish look and then winked at Anna.

Anna rolled her eyes. Kristin wasn’t known for her subtlety. She put money on the counter for the drinks, but then a very masculine hand covered hers. She looked up into Max’s face.

“I’ll get this,” he said.

His body was so close to hers that she could only nod—anything else would lead to her stripping out of her clothes and asking him to take her.

“There’s a table up front,” Eve suggested with a too-bright smile. “Why don’t you guys go up there and I’ll bring your drinks over in a second?”

“Great,” Anna agreed just as brightly. She walked over, wishing her butt had more sway.

But she reminded herself that he’d liked her butt just fine at one time. So she slipped her jacket onto the back of the chair and sat down to face him. “I appreciate you taking the time to do this. I know you must be busy, with the restaurant and your girlfriend and stuff.”

His brow furrowed as he sat down. “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I’m happy to help out an old friend.”

The word
friend
grated on her like fingernails on a chalkboard.

But then she registered what he said. Sitting up straight, she said, “That tall woman at the restaurant the other night wasn’t your girlfriend?”

“Natasha? No, she’s an associate. I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

Yes
. It took all her willpower not to pump her fist in the air. She folded her hands under her chin and tried to look innocently interested.

Max took out a notepad and pen from his coat pocket. “So what is your party for?”

“Party?” She blinked, suddenly remembering. “Right. It’s for celebrating.”

“What?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say
to seduce you
. Obviously, the way he was looking at her was short-circuiting her brain. “A personal triumph.”

He shrugged and made a note. “How many people do you intend to invite?”

“Thirty,” she said off the top of her head.

“That’s a lot of people,” he said, writing it down.

“Maybe twenty? Is that better?”

“It’s your party, Anna. You should have as many people as you wish. At your apartment?”

“Yes.” The last time he’d been at her apartment they’d decided to stop seeing each other. She shook her head. This was a new day, and Max wasn’t seeing that gorgeous hussy.

“Do you have a theme, for the party or the food?” he asked.

A lifetime of love and passion. “I’d like it to be spicy.”

“Spicy?” He leveled her a look.

“You know how to do spicy, Max.” She smiled in thanks at Eve, who slipped in to set their drinks on the table and walked away unobtrusively. The brief interruption gave Anna the space to ask the question that had been on her mind. “Where are your glasses?”

“I had my eyes laser-corrected.”

“It must be nice to see clearly in the morning.” He used to complain that he couldn’t see her face in detail when he just woke up, and that made him sad.

“Spicy foods,” Max said, bringing her attention back to her imminent party.

“And the steak, with
chimichurri
, the way you used to make it.” She perked up. “Oh, and the potato gratin
.
And one of your fabulous salads. It’s because of your delicious salads that I don’t just subsist on a diet of Doritos and cheese anymore.”

“You did dislike vegetables.”

“Until you showed me the way.” She grinned. “I had to draw the line somewhere though. Remember the time you made me sweetbreads?”

He chuckled. “You liked it until you knew what it was.”

“That’s because you can make anything delicious.” She leaned forward. “Remember that weekend we took in Sonoma?”

His gaze sharpened. “I remember the homemade strawberry and basil ice cream we had, Anna.”

Her breath caught. “I’d forgotten about that,” she managed to whisper. They’d eaten a whole pint off of each other’s bodies. “How could I have forgotten?”

For a moment she could see the past in his expression—the passion and the friendship and everything they’d had.

She leaned forward and covered his hand with hers. “Don’t you sometimes miss me?” she asked, soft but intent.

His gaze fell to her lips. “I’ll always miss you, Anna.”

But then he leaned back, withdrawing his hand.

No—she wasn’t going to let it go at that. Standing up, she leaned across the table, grabbed his shirt, and kissed him.

He responded slowly, but he responded, his hand curling into her hair and holding her close. Her entire body went
YES!
and she mewled in pleasure before sitting back in triumph.

Max stared at her. “I’ll send you a quote for the party,” he said finally.

“Okay.” She touched her lips. They felt on fire.

He stood up. “Soon.”

She didn’t know whether he meant the quote or another kiss. Either way was good to her. She smiled. “Soon.”

She was halfway back to the office when she realized she’d have to remember to invite some people. She was having a party.

The party was going to cost a fortune—a fortune Anna didn’t have.

Anna stared at the open document on her desktop. She’d had no idea catering cost so much. She didn’t normally spend so extravagantly, and this was a lot of money.

Maybe the whole thing was a bad idea.

“You still here? It’s after nine o’clock.”

She looked up to see Scott standing in her doorway. Sighing, she waved at her computer screen. “I got caught up going over a contract.”

“Is it something that I can help you with?”

“No, it’s a personal matter, actually.” She looked at him. He made his living taking chances on risky ventures—maybe he’d have some words of wisdom to give her. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Ask away.” He leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms.

“You always say you have to spend money to make an investment pay off, but how much is too much?”

“As long as it pays off in the end, it’s never too much.”

“How do I know if it’ll pay off?”

He smiled. “That’s the beauty of the gamble.”

She made a face. “That wasn’t the answer I was looking for.”

Chuckling, he pushed off the doorframe. “Do you want to walk out with me?”

“I need to print this contract out.” She sighed as she looked at the total cost of the catering again.

Scott started to leave, but then he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Anna, the key to being successful in an investment is to believe in it. If you have doubts from the beginning, chances are it’ll fail. But if you believe in its viability, you’ll find ways to make it succeed.”

“Is that some sort of New Age guide to investing?”

He grinned. “Don’t knock it. It works. Don’t stay too late.”

Scott’s words played in her head after he left.
Find ways to make it succeed
.

“Okay.” Anna nodded decisively and hit
print
on the contract. “I’m doing it.”

Because winning Max back wasn’t going to happen by sitting in her office wallowing over money, she took the contract, signed it, and stuck it in a manila folder. She was hand delivering it.

She arrived at Spark late. Perfect timing. It was after the dinner rush, and he’d be more inclined to take a moment to sit with her.

He was standing over a table, hands behind his back, chatting amicably with one of his customers. The moment she walked in, his gaze lifted to hers, even as he still talked to his patrons. He smiled at them and then headed her way.

Her pulse sped up and her stomach fluttered in anticipation. She smoothed her skirt and walked toward him.

“Anna,” Max said simply.

She melted. But somehow she managed to keep her spine straight, reaching into her handbag to pull out the folder that held the contract. “I wanted to bring the contract back to you.”

He accepted the folder. “You didn’t have to deliver it. You could have emailed or faxed it back.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she lied. The Mission was one of the farthest neighborhoods from her apartment in Laurel Heights.

“Come have a drink. I need to check on the kitchen and then I will return.” With a hand on her back, he guided her toward an empty seat at the bar.

She could feel his hand on her back, his fingers caressing.

Did she imagine it? She glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes. Something sparked between them, and she felt a surge of hope.

When they got to the barstool, he gave her a look she wanted to interpret as smoldering and waved the bartender over. He leaned close to her and said softly, “I’ll come back, Anna.”

Shivering from the caress of his breath on her skin, she watched him walk away. He looked delicious, even in the short chef’s coat. That ass used to be hers. Why hadn’t she done a better job keeping it?

The bartender walked over and flashed her a smile. “What can I get you to drink?”

“A glass of wine is fine. Red, please.”

“You’re a friend of Max’s?” the bartender asked as he chose a bottle from the selection in front of him.

“An old friend.”

“Then you must be as sad as we are about the news.” He set a cocktail napkin in front of her and placed the glass of wine on it, sliding it toward her.

Frowning, she picked up the glass. “The news?”

“About Max leaving to start his restaurant in New York.” The bartender shook his head. “Lucky bastard, but we’re all bummed he’s leaving. He’s the only sane chef I’ve ever worked with.”

Anna set the wine glass back down abruptly. “New York.”

“Yeah.” The guy frowned. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I did,” she lied quickly, shaking her head. “I’d blocked it from my mind. I can’t believe he’d go to New York.”

“Apparently the deal is too good. What chef wouldn’t want to be bankrolled in his own restaurant?”

“Really.” She gripped the stem of her glass. Max was leaving for New York? But he’d lived in New York before he’d moved to San Francisco, and he’d sworn he didn’t want to move back.

She slumped in her seat, pondering this new dilemma. She had to make him realize what he’d lost, too, when they’d broken up. He wanted
her
, not some job in New York. They were forever—she just had to show him.

Something made her look up, and she saw Max stride across the room, headed for the bar. Her heart skipped a beat, seeing him out of his chef’s smock, in a shirt with the long sleeves rolled up. He poured himself a glass of wine and then came around the counter to join her.

“You’re moving to New York?” she couldn’t help asking the second he sat down.

He angled himself to face her. “The restaurant business doesn’t keep secrets.”

“But you can.”

“I didn’t realize you cared.” He searched her eyes, his legs bracketing hers. “We hadn’t talked in years, Anna.”

That was no excuse. “So when do you leave?”

“Right after your party.” He lifted his glass. “
Salud
.”

“No!”

“No?” he asked, frowning quizzically.

No
, because it didn’t give her much time to show him they should be together. She toasted him without enthusiasm. “I thought you hated New York. I didn’t know you wanted to go back to open a fancy restaurant.”

He shrugged. “I don’t want to, but the restaurant group made me a deal I couldn’t refuse. I get
carte blanche
to open my own restaurant, whatever concept I choose. My decor, my staff. It’s a once in a lifetime offer for a chef.”

She perked up. “You’re listing the reasons to do this as if you’re trying to convince yourself.”

“I thought I left New York behind.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s not what I’d pictured myself doing.”

“If you could do anything, what would it be?”