“You’ve got to be kidding,” Tasha says, laughing. “Leave it your fiancé to hire a celebrity chef on zero notice. I’m surprised the zoo didn’t insist on supplying the food.”
Avery winces. “I don’t think Nick gave them the chance to argue. As for Gavin, since he’s a good friend and he donates time at the rec center, too, he was more than willing to come to our rescue today.”
“Speak of the devil,” Lita murmurs.
I glance across the area where we’re seated and see the tall, beachy-blond Australian striding toward us carrying a plate of food and a stack of napkins. Gavin Castille is built like an athlete, long limbs and a trim bodythat doesn’t seem to carry an ounce of fat in spite of the decadent dishes he’s famous for, both in the media and in his signature restaurants all around the world. His latest place, GC, has a reputation for months-long reservation lists and a menu to die for.
His fluid, cowboy swagger and movie-star handsome face would have made him famous even if he wasn’t an incredibly talented chef. Certainly, he’s never had a shortage of beautiful women on his arm at any given moment.
As he nears us, the aromas of grilled meat and savory vegetables and sauces practically make me moan in anticipation.
If I wasn’t still fuming about a certain aggravating Baine security chief, I might also be tempted to moan over the sheer male perfection of the man now giving us all a dazzling, dimpled smile.
“Afternoon, ladies.” His deep voice and accent are as dangerous as the rest of him, and from the wicked gleam in his eyes, I’m guessing he knows how to use his charm to its fullest advantage. He leans down and gives Avery a brief kiss on the cheek before setting the plate down on the table between all of us. “I thought you might like to sample a few things before the chow bell rings to summon the throng.”
Tasha peers at the offering. “Barbequed chicken, grilled veggies, and potato salad? I didn’t realize you had it in you to be so basic. Color me shocked.”
Obviously, they know each other. Which shouldn’t come as a surprise, given that Nick and Avery are evidently close to Castille.
“Nice to see you, too, Tasha.” He winks at her, then places a gentle hand on sleeping Zoe’s head for amoment. “Where’s my buddy Tony?”
“He’s around here somewhere. Probably acting a bigger fool than most of the kids, if I know him. I’ll bring him by later to say hello. I know he’ll be eager to bend your ear about his latest obsession.”
“Another home brew experiment?”
“No, much worse. He’s discovered the joys of pressure-cooking.”
“Ah, Christ.” Castille chuckles. “My sympathies.”
He glances at Lita and me, and Avery makes introductions for us. He’s friendly and warm, and for a few minutes, while we all pick at the plate of food he brought, he and Tasha entertain us with good-natured banter about their restaurants’ ongoing kitchen rivalry.
Tasha pulls off a piece of grilled chicken and pops it in her mouth. “I’m just saying, this new chef we hired is outstanding. Since we brought her on, we’ve nearly tripled our weekend dinner receipts.”
“And where did you say she trained again?”
“I didn’t. But since you asked, she’s homegrown. She got her start as a line cook right here in the city and worked her way up one kitchen at a time.”
He grunts, hardly hiding his skepticism. “I guess I’ll have to come in sometime and see what’s cooking.”
Avery laughs. “Tasha, you’d better watch your back. I know Gavin, and he’s either going to recon your menu or try to steal your new chef out from under you.”
Castille holds up his hands. “Vicious lies. I just like checking out the competition. I didn’t get this far without paying attention to who might be breathing down my neck and looking to unseat me one day.”
As everyone talks, I notice that Lita has gone quiet next to me. I glance at her and find her face a little pale,tiny beads of perspiration gathering above her upper lip. She seems to sway a bit, her hand moving up to her mouth.
“Are you okay?”
She nods. “Yeah. I’m fine.” But she swallows hard, and a look of discomfort washes over her face. “I think I just . . . need to . . . get some air or something.”
“I’ll help you,” Avery says, popping off the bench and moving to her friend’s side. To the rest of us, she adds, “It does seem awfully humid today after this morning’s rain. We’re just going to take a little walk.”
I glance at Tasha, who looks as concerned as me. “Well,” she says, “I should probably go waddle off to find my husband and let him know there’s food to eat. Everything’s great, Gavin. You know I just have to bust your balls.”
He nods. “Always a pleasure, Tasha. Tell Tony I’ll watch for him at the catering station.”
With her sleeping daughter slumped over her shoulder, Tasha waves and heads off across the open space.
“And then, there were two,” Castille says.
