“Okay, no it didn’t really happenthat way. Ezra and I hated each other as kids. He can sometimes be a bit of anasshole.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Unlike you,who’salwaysan asshole?”
“Ha! The girl has bite.”
I blushed, avoiding his gaze.Because the truth was I didn’t have bite. Not even sometimes. I was always apushover except when it came to Killian.
For whatever reason, my rubberyspine decided to stand up straight whenever he was around.
“Anyway, Ezra and I couldn’t be moredifferent. I always knew I was going into food. He fell into it by accident.”
“How does one come to own threerestaurants by accident?”
“Four,” Killian corrected. “He’s asilent partner in his first restaurant thanks to his first wife.” A sly smilelifted one half of his mouth. “And by marrying the owner. That’s how youaccidentally get involved with your first restaurant. When she leaves you foranother man, that’s when you open three other restaurants as revenge.”
I gaped at Killian, unsure how torespond. “So you’re part of the plot?”
“When he openedLilou,I was the only chef he trusted not to break up another one of his marriages.”
“She left him for a chef?”
“Their chef. The chef at Quince.”
“He owns Quince!” My voice just keptgetting louder, but in my defense, Killian’s story kept escalating.
He chuckled at my theatrics.“Silently. And out of spite. He won’t let her buy him out just to torture her.Lilou, Bianca andSaritaare theprojects he’s truly passionate about.”
“And now it makes sense why he namesthe restaurants after his ex-girlfriends. Wow.”
“Anyway.” Killian stood to his fullheight, making a show of looking around the kitchen. “How are we going torescue tomorrow’s menu?”
“I thought we’d already decided Iwas going to quit?”
“Enough of that,” he demanded withsteel. “You’re not quitting. You’re too fucking good to even joke about it.” Heglared at me until I held up my hands in surrender. His eyes softened, but justbarely when he said, “I’ll give you the advice the late, great, TobyManiergave me all those years ago. Are you ready for it?”
I felt the urge to smile, but repressedit. “Yes. I’m ready. Give it to me.”
“Stop being a loser and makesomething better.”
“Are you serious?”
“I swear. He said that to me atleast three times a night.” He lifted one of his shoulders casually. “Itworked.”
I nodded, feeling the motivation inmy joints, spreading to my bones… bleeding into my veins.Stop being a loser. I could do that.Make something better. I could at least try.
I moved to stand beside him at theprep counter. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He looked at me out of the corner ofhis eye. “I’m not being nice. I’m afraid if you start making shit food, you’lldrive all my business away.”
I restrained the urge to elbow himin the ribs. He was flirting with me, and all I wanted to do was flirt back.The need swelled up inside me, bursting through my fingers and toes, spiralingstraight to my core. This was dangerous. He was dangerous.
He threatened everything. Mybusiness. My sanity. My vow of celibacy. The carefully constructed walls I’dbuilt around my heart. My fragile courage I’d only just regained. He’dbulldozed into my life and shaken up everything I’d thought was true about menand chefs and people. And I didn’t know what to do with him.
Plus, I didn’t think he understoodthe baggage I carried. I wasn’t emotionally available anymore. I wasn’t anattractive offer. I was used. Broken. Scared.
He had a weird obsession with myfood truck, but that was it. He liked the attention I gave him.
Things for me weren’t so simple. Icouldn’t flirt carelessly or without consequence. Despite everything I’d beenthrough, everything I’d pulled myself out of, I wasn’t the kind of girl thatdidn’t get attached.
