Rafael sighed, letting out a tense breath. “You cocky motherfucker,” he said.
I couldn’t help myself but grin. Why was it that curse words always sounded so much better when it was Rafael who said them? “Well, you can be satisfied that it didn’t pay off,” I said. “I’m going to be out on my ass and losing my deposit within a couple of months since I’m out of work now.”
“You don’t have to be,” Rafael said.
I looked at his face and I knew. I just knew. He was here to get me to work at The Crow again. I sank my face into my hands, pillowing it on the table, and groaned out loud.
“What?” Rafael asked. When I didn’t immediately answer, he was concerned enough to move around the table and put his hand on my back.
I almost flinched. The warmth of his skin emanated on my bare back… yeah, he was just like the sun coming out. And I’d been living in winter.
But it didn’t matter this time, did it?
“I do have to be,” I said, raising my head. “I know what’s about to happen. You’re going to get all excited about some new plan you have, and I’m going to have to tell you that it won’t work, and you’re going to put on some sad puppy dog face and make me feel like an asshole when it’s not exactly my fault, and we’ll be right back to the square we’re standing on now.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Rafael insisted stubbornly.
I wasn’t awake enough to deal with this. “Fine,” I said, lifting one hand in a loose gesture of permission. “Go ahead.”
Rafael smiled.
I groaned again, but he was sitting down opposite me, shifting boxes onto the floor so we could be on the same level. “Everyone’s back at The Crow,” he said. “Well, nearly everyone. Beau’s never going back. And then there’s you.”
“How?” I asked, half-heartedly, because I knew how this was going to end no matter what Rafael said.
“Grey called me up that morning – you know, the morning we…” He trailed off, flushing, and I felt a clench deep in my stomach at the shame he obviously felt over what we’d done. “That’s why I had to rush off. He said he had a promise to make that would make me change my mind about quitting, so I thought I could at least hear him out.”
“And he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse,” I said, dully, but playing along.
“He created a new contract for us,” Rafael said. Barely concealed mirth sparkled in his eyes, and I wondered what the joke was about to be that he was clearly so excited to deliver. “He legally can’t sleep with anyone for a year. A whole year! If he does, Iget a payout so huge that I’ll basically end up owning the place. And he can’t have sex with anyone from or within Crowhill Cove for another year after that. And he can’t sleep with an employeeever.”
I stared at him for a long moment. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“But it solves everything that has been wrong with The Crow,” Rafael said. “Don’t you see? It’s brilliant. If he screws up even one more time, I get to own the restaurant. The team trust me enough that they agreed to come back under those terms as well. Beau even gave us his blessing, but he’s doing his own thing now.”
“That’s wonderful for all of you,” I said, leaning back in my chair and slumping against it. “Congratulations on finally becoming Head Chef.”
“But that’s just it,” Rafael said earnestly. “Youcould be Head Chef.”
I stared at him. “Why would you want to give that up?”
“You were supposed to get the job all along, not me,” he said. He gestured around as if to saylook, here’s the proof. “I’ll step aside. I can be the bigger man. I’m not afraid to do that.”
That… wasn’t exactly a reason why.
Had Grey sent him to negotiate? Was he maybe not Head Chef after all, but he was making me think this was some special deal to convince me to come back on Grey’s behalf?
Or was he so eager to work with me that he was willing to give up something he’d been working for for years?
My gaze dropped to the table. It didn’t matter, either way. None of it mattered.
I wasn’t going back.
I lifted my right hand in the air and then put it back down on the table more deliberately. Maybe his eye had skimmed over it because he was used to seeing me wearing a wrist brace. Maybe he hadn’t taken in the fact that it was different now.
His eyes followed the path of my hand and he frowned. He wasn’t getting it. I was going to have to spell it out for him.
“I can’t be Head Chef,” I said. “Not at The Crow. Not anywhere. I can’t even be a line chef anymore.”
