Page 5 of Burning Rivalry
“So instead, he offered me a ride on his back.” Finally, a slap against my arm stirred my attention. I scowled at my friend, Aiden McConnell, before the stupidity of what he had just said sank in. Vaughn Eastman and Grayson Daniels chuckled while I looked around the table. “What the hell are you all talking about?” I asked, resulting in more laughter.
“I’m glad you finally started listening because I’m not sure how much longer I could have gone on with that story. Where the hell is your mind?” Aiden asked, tapping a finger against the side of his head and laughing as he sat back with his drink.
“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.” Jackson Bennett joined us, dropping into the fifth chair around the table and brushing his overgrown blond hair away from his forehead. Now that he was in town on a long-term contract with a few of the casinos, we made it a point to invite him to join us when he had the chance. “What did I miss?” he asked after flirting his way through a drink order.
“Not much,” Vaughn told him, snorting. “Aiden was telling a story to see whether Sebastian over here was ever going to pay attention.”
“So far…” Aiden concluded, “… he’s too busy obsessing over his new pastry chef.”
“Watch it,” I warned, painfully aware of the number of guests who’d shown up tonight to see her like they had the past two evenings. Word sure got around quickly. “That’s not funny.”
“What are you so touchy about tonight?” Grayson asked without the laughter edging Aiden’s voice. “Are things not working out? She’s only been here, what, a few days?”
“The longest days of my career,” I confirmed. There wasn’t an antacid strong enough to calm the burning discomfort whenever I thought of her. The mere thought of her name left me rubbing my chest.
“You okay?” Vaughn wasn’t joking, setting his glass down and giving me a look of concern. “We shouldn’t have done this here tonight. This is supposed to be when we get together and unwind. All you can do is worry over what’s happening in the kitchen.” Now that he and his accidental wife, Nova, had ironed things out and were blissfully happy, he saw himself in a position to offer advice to the rest of us.
“How’s the new show shaping up?” Aiden asked Jackson, trying to be helpful and change the subject. For once, I could appreciate him being able to bounce from one topic to the next like an overstimulated toddler.
“One of my principal dancers dropped out today because she fell in love and is moving to Wichita. I wish I were joking.” He unceremoniously dumped a glass of whiskey down his throat, tapping it, and handed it back to the server for a refill. “Sorry to send you right back, but I’m thirsty tonight.” Rubbing his temples, he squeezed his amber eyes shut.
“Imagine. She would rather move to Kansas than work with you,” Aiden quipped, and even I could laugh.
“Don’t get me wrong, she tried getting in my pants…” he informed us once the laughter died down, “… when she was first cast. Like that would get her somewhere. I’m sick of women who think they can throw themselves at you to get ahead.”
That was one thing I could say Claudia had not so much as approached—quite the opposite. Whenever we ran into each other in the kitchen, she made it a point to look at me like a rodent had run across her foot. Granted, I felt pretty much the same toward her, so there were no hurt feelings.
Vaughn caught me looking through the window again and chuckled. “Why don’t you just go back there and get it over with? It’s where you would rather be.”
“Yeah, we won’t take it personally,” Grayson assured me.
“Speak for yourself. My friend invites me to his restaurant for dinner and drinks, and I expect a little hospitality.” Aiden nudged my ankle under the table. “So? Be hospitable.”
“I would, but I’m a hundred miles away,” I grumbled. “Honestly, she is much more trouble than she’s worth.”
“Oh, the new girl? The one who was on TV?” When I nodded, Jackson whistled softly. “She’s hot, at least. It can’t be bad to have her to look at in the kitchen.”
“Says the man who routinely complains about the dancers he watches all day long,” Grayson reminded him.
“When they’re fucking around with your career in their hands, they’re not so hot anymore, are they?” I asked.
Jackson nodded while accepting his second drink, which he sipped this time. “That’s true.”
“Are things that serious?” Grayson looked concerned.
“If she keeps trying to go behind my back to, you know, realize her vision?” I formed air quotes around the word and did my best not to gag. “Yeah, it’s serious.”
“Exactly what has she done?” Vaughn asked.
I almost wished he wouldn’t. His curiosity came from a good place, as the others did, but knowing that did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest and the buzzing in my head. “It’s not so much what she’s done as what she’s talked about,” I explained. “She has this enormous binder full of recipes she wanted to show me. She wants to develop new recipes to make her mark on my restaurant. She thinks that’s going to earn her a Michelin Star,” I concluded with a laugh. “She doesn’t have the first idea.”
“You’ve gotta be pretty innovative to get one of those, don’t you?” Jackson mused. “Like, really out-there and experimental. That’s not what you do here.”
“Thank you!” Maybe I said it a little too loudly—the bartender and a handful of well-dressed patrons sitting at the bar looked my way. I lowered the hands I’d thrown into the air and released a deep breath.
“Thank you,” I murmured once I’d calmed myself. “Maybe you should go back there and explain that to her because while I tried to explain it myself, I kept overhearing her talking about things she wants to try. I am not interested in her trying anything. She is here for her name, and that is all.”
“You sure as hell seem pretty busy around here,” Grayson observed, eyeing the busy room with its crisscrossing servers. He wasn’t wrong. We were booked solid again, and a cursory glance around the packed dining room revealed more than a few guests craning their necks, trying to get a glimpse of what went on in the kitchen—in other words, trying to get a glimpse of her, hoping to get a selfie.
