Into the Fire (15 page)

Chapter Seventeen

The pace in the Inferno kitchen was breathtaking. If she hadn’t confined her hair in a bun beneath a skull cap, she was sure it would be flying straight out behind her as she tried to keep up with the orders. “Jesus,” she muttered under her breath.

Beside her, Daniel laughed and pointed at six plates in the window. He dropped a tray onto a stand and motioned to a server. “Table ten. Go.”

“I’m guessing you’ve done this before?” she asked.

“Not on this grand of a scale, but yes. I used to work upstate in a kitchen about this size.”

She heard a chime and watched him dig his phone out of his pocket. A boyish grin split his face as he checked the display. “The New York Times reviewer is having a phone-gasm in the dining room. Awesome.”

Maybe Jack wouldn’t kill her if the reviews were good.

“But Jack’s still going to kill us,” he added.

Us.
Daniel had said us. She had only thought of how mad he would be at her. She looked at Daniel with growing horror.

“Stay strong, Chef. Incoming.” The ticket machine began to spit out orders again, and Lila called them off. Daniel’s encouragement had renewed her determination, but she still quailed when she heard the back door slam and Jack’s voice in the dish room.
Shit, shit, shit.
She was so dead.

She didn’t turn around. She continued to work, expediting orders, wiping plates, and double-checking to make sure the cooks were getting the food right. She felt Jack’s heat behind her.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Each word was clipped.

“Making you famous, Jack. How’s your dad?”

“Fine for now. Sedated. Stable.”

“I’m glad.” Damn it, there was a lull in the orders. She had to turn around.

He looked tired. His eyes were dark, sad, and furious. She wanted to hug him. Clearly, there was no end to her masochism. “You got this for a minute?” she asked Daniel.

He checked the board. “Five minutes, no more. We need to get the entrees out on table twelve or we’re gonna get creamed.”

“Five minutes,” she confirmed, knowing the likelihood of her returning to the line was slim. She strode toward the office. Jack followed her, his anger a tidal wave of lava cresting over her head.

He slammed the door behind him. “You must be pretty happy with yourself.”

God, he was gorgeous, even when he was looking at her with scorn in his eyes. The chasm between them had never felt wider, but this was her last chance. No more lies between them.

“That menu wasn’t even close to perfect, and now I’m stuck with it. You have ruined Inferno, and now everyone will know—”

She cut him off. “Everyone will know what? That you’re amazing? I’ve known that for two years now. It’s about time for New York to find out how incredible you are, too. Your menu is perfect. I knew it the first time I saw it. Perfectly fucking brilliant. Why do you think I blew through your kitchen tasting everything I could find? I was hoping to find something to fix. How was I going to improve something that was already sublime? I wanted that money, and I didn’t know how I was going to get it.”

He drew a deep, shuddering breath and dropped into the desk chair. She watched him pick up a pen and scrabble through the papers on the desk. He opened a ledger and began writing out a check. Slowly, carefully, he tore it out of the checkbook and held it out to her. “Here you go. Now get out so I can clean up your mess.”

The number of zeros on the check made her feel faint.

She needed money. Who didn’t? But she could pay off her loans and bills by chipping away at them while working a regular job. There was no magic solution to debt. Jack had made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, but not for any of the reasons he thought, and it was time to tell him the truth. “I don’t want your money anymore, Jack.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m not going to enable your idiocy. You can’t write a check and get what you want. If you could, you’d be the happiest man on earth and you aren’t, are you? You’re miserable, and I thought it was because you needed to make peace with your father. That’s why I rode your ass about talking to him all week. But then I saw the look on your face when you were talking to the New York Times critic, and I realized you were using me as a crutch, not your dad. You choked, Jack. You thought your menu wasn’t good enough, so you hired me to fix it. After all, if it wasn’t entirely your menu, then it wouldn’t be your failure. Or your success, either. You deserve success, Jack, and you don’t need me to get it. You never did.”

His face looked like granite. “I hired you to change the menu. Technically, you’re in default on our agreement, but I’ll overlook it. I’ll also release you from your last week of work at Inferno. As for your last contractual obligation, the Times review, there’s nothing to be done about that. Take the money, and get out of here before you do any more damage.”

Had he not heard a word she said? “Damage? You bet I wanted to damage you. Half the reason I signed your ridiculous contract was to get close enough to you to hurt you the way you hurt me. I planned to find ways to make you doubt yourself even more than you already did. I thought I wanted revenge for the competition, but I was wrong. I just wanted to be close to you, somewhere other than my dreams, that is. I dream of you every night, Jack. It’s been heaven to wake up beside you.”

“You just can’t stop lying, can you? Lying about your recipes, lying about your motives, lying to me about the menu. Don’t even try to tell me you care about me when the knife is still sticking out of my back. I don’t want to hear it. We’re done. Take the money, don’t take the money. I don’t care. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re not gone already. Leaving is your specialty, isn’t it?”

She felt tears welling up from deep inside. “There wasn’t time to tell you, Jack, but you have to believe me. I didn’t run your menu to expose your flaws. I did it to display your strengths.” Now that she was away from the urgency of the line, she began to worry again. What if New York hated his food? She’d gambled with the livelihood of Jack’s entire staff. He saw what they’d done as betrayal. What if she’d made the wrong call?

Then she looked down into Jack’s wrathful gaze and felt nothing but certainty in him. He might never appreciate her gesture, but she’d done the right thing. Inferno would set New York on fire.

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Is it that hard for you to believe in yourself?”

He stood and opened the door. “No, but it’s that hard for me to believe in you.”

Because it would be the last time, she stole a kiss on her way out the door. His lips clung to hers for a second, long enough to make her heart jolt, but there was nothing but cold, hard steel in his eyes when she pulled away. “One last thing,” she said.

“You deserved to win the culinary competition. You were right—I changed my entire game plan the morning of the competition, and I lost because I ran out of time. But I didn’t lie to you. I told you the truth about my menu. I was just afraid you’d slept with me to find out what I was planning to cook.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why did it matter if I knew what you were planning to cook? It’s not like we could make the same thing. The judges would have disqualified us.”

“Isn’t it obvious, Jack? You told me your menu, too.” She held off tears by a thin margin and managed to smile. “I thought you were going to beat me.”

…

Jack watched Lila go. By his count, it had taken her four minutes to destroy his world, which meant he had one minute to get back to the line and help Daniel expedite. He stepped out of the office and walked past the baking alcove where Emily was plating a piece of chocolate cake. He doubled back to ask, “Emily, what do you think of the old menu. I mean, the one we’re serving tonight?”

She leaned up to kiss his cheek and handed him a cookie. “I think it’s you, Jack. And I followed you here, does that tell you anything?”

“Thanks.” He frowned and kept walking.

On the line, his cooks were pulling out their back-up ingredients. Perry grinned at him, Roz winked, and Luis twirled his salad tongs. Why the hell were they so cheerful? They were going to be unemployed soon.

“Glad to have you back, boss,” Daniel said.

Jack nodded, wondering why Daniel had been so insistent Lila rejoin him on the line. The rush was clearly over. “It’s been five minutes, but you don’t look like you need any help.”

Daniel shot him a cocky grin. “Hell, no. I was just keeping Lila busy so she didn’t freak out. You heading into the dining room? We’ve had at least a dozen demands to speak with the chef.”

Fury bloomed in his heart, jagged and hot. Goddamn Lila for leaving him to take the blame. It didn’t matter that it was technically his fault, his menu. He’d hired her so that he wouldn’t have to face polite disappointment from his diners. “I’ll go right now.”

He slammed through the swinging doors, through the short hall, and into the main dining room. The room buzzed with conversation, punctuated by laughter and the sound of silver on plates. He stopped, suddenly not wanting to interrupt whatever pleasure they might be drawing from their meals, but it was too late.

A hush fell over the room. Then a few people started clapping. More and more hands joined in until the room thundered with applause. The noise hit him like a slap to the face, and he stumbled, grabbing the back of an empty chair. They were clapping. They were actually clapping. For him.

Jack held up his hand. The crowd quieted, and he realized that meant he had to make a speech. He cleared his throat. “Welcome to Inferno, everyone.” He paused, heart pounding. Where to start? “As some of you may know, my father had a heart attack this afternoon and was rushed to the hospital. He’s resting comfortably, and they expect him to recover.” Another smattering of applause. Someone in the crowd hooted, and he saw Zane, pumping his fist in the air. Guy was sitting with him, and Marie was at the next table, giving Zane a quelling glare just as she had when they were young.

Jack grinned at them. “I know, right? I didn’t even realize the old man had a heart until tonight. But I hope all of you know I put mine into the food on your plates.” He had, he just hadn’t had any faith in its worth until Lila had left him no option. He forced himself to continue, “Tonight, my father told me he was proud of me, and that meant more to me than he will ever know.” He caught sight of his mother in the crowd, holding up her phone, obviously recording. He spoke quickly, past the tightening in his throat. “Or maybe not. Pan the crowd, Mom, and everybody raise a glass to Andrew Calabrese, my personal hero, and the man who made Inferno possible. Thanks for coming, everyone. I hope you enjoy the food.”

As applause rose again, Jack began making the rounds, feeling dazed, smiling and shaking hands at every table. Finally, he made it to the front of the restaurant, where the bar was hopping. The bartender took one look at him and reached for the Patron and a shot glass.

He had always wondered how it would feel to sit in his very own restaurant on opening night. He’d imagined joy, triumph…satisfaction. What he felt when he gazed around the room was regret and emptiness. Emptiness that increased when he tossed back a shot of tequila, a taste he now associated with Lila.

Customers had heaped praise on him as he made his way around the room, but they wouldn’t be eating the food on their plates if it had been up to him. They would have been eating Lila’s food, and he would have been eating his heart out with jealousy. She had saved him from himself. The full scope of his crime was becoming clear. She had given him the incredible gift of her faith in him, and he had thrown it back in her face.

A sudden movement beside him startled him from his thoughts. “You’ve outdone yourself, Chef. Congratulations.”

He recognized the reporter from the Times. “I’m honored to have you in the house tonight, Mr. Harris.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s an honor to be here. Your menu is flawless, and I don’t say that often. Do you have any interesting stories about the inspiration for your dishes?”

Jack couldn’t stifle a laugh.

His father wasn’t the only one he needed to thank. He’d give anything to have Lila sitting beside him right now, but he had hidden behind her talent for long enough. It was time to give her the credit she deserved, and he only hoped she would be willing to forgive him one more time.

He turned to the reporter. “You want a story, huh? Boy, have I got a story for you.”

…

It was over.

Deal with a Calabrese, get screwed. Check, please…or not, since she hadn’t taken his money. She’d all but told him she loved him, and he had thrown her out on her ass.

It was time to pack up her things and go. Without a job, she couldn’t afford the rent in Manhattan anymore. Would she move to one of the other boroughs…or would she go home to her father? It had always been a possibility in the back of her mind. She probably couldn’t count on Jack as a reference, but her culinary school degree would open the door of a decent kitchen in her hometown. Go big or go home, huh? She snorted as she opened her front door. Yup, she was going home. All the way home.

She sat down on her couch and sent a text to Betsy and Jenna, giving them a shortened version of her evening. There, now it was really done.

Her phone rang instantly.

“Hey,” she said to Betsy. It beeped, so she hit the conference button.

“Girl,” Jenna began, in a tone that told Lila she was in for it.

Lila cut her off. “I know. I’m a complete idiot. I give it all away every time. But I’m done. I swear. Never again.”

Jenna snorted. “I’ll believe that when it happens, but that’s not what I was going to say. You would not believe the reviews Inferno is getting. People are going crazy over the menu. The Internet is buzzing, and it’s all good. This kind of buzz is a chef’s wet dream. If Jackson Calabrese doesn’t get down on his knees and thank you, he’s a fool.”

“He is a fool,” Betsy broke in. “But at least you’re rich.”

“I didn’t take the check,” Lila spoke over her friends’ roars of outrage. “I didn’t want his money. I wanted him. I even kissed him on the way out the door, but he still let me go. It’s not supposed to happen that way. I had a different ending in mind. I guess I’ve seen too many movies.”