Scrumptious (16 page)

Her father nodded. “Nice to meet you too.”

He held an unwieldy, paper wrapped package under one arm, and he offered Marlene a hug with the other arm. She scowled at Olivia over his shoulder, giving her a “we’re not finished yet” glare. Olivia tugged Joe out of the room. She waited for them to clear the door before speaking.

“Hello, Dad. This is pretty far off your route.”

“I’m taking some vacation time this month.” Her father set the package on her table. “Callebaut. Bittersweet, your favorite, right?”

Marlene nodded grudgingly. “Business must be good if you can afford to bribe me with eleven pounds of Belgian chocolate.”

“It’s a late birthday present. Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Sure. I was just fixing you and your
date
dessert.”

“Margaret felt horrible about not telling you I was here. She wasn’t quite sure how to introduce herself.”

“Honesty would have worked,” she said.

He watched her add swirls of raspberry sauce to the plate. In each section of the long, divided platter, she had arranged a small portion of her three favorite menu items. She wasn’t only doing it to impress the food critic now either. After all these years, the teenager inside of her still wanted Daddy’s approval. It was hopeless. She should let Anthony plate their desserts and walk out the back door.

A week ago she might have done just that. To hell with the food critic. She didn’t need to surround the berry shortcake with raspberry sauce and crème anglaise hearts or pipe quick chocolate fans to garnish the cheesecake. Her desserts could speak for themselves. This sampler usually sold for twenty bucks. However, her father and Margaret would enjoy it on the house tonight because Chameleon needed good press.

She had downplayed the challenges with Olivia, but they were understaffed and changing chefs could cause them huge problems. Customers would come to check out the food, and if it wasn’t up to snuff, they’d write Chameleon off as a has-been. As long as Joe stuck around, they would be fine. When he left, though, all bets were off. Chameleon needed help.

Therefore, as much as she wanted to cut her father cold and walk out the door, she wouldn’t. It wasn’t just about her. It was about the restaurant, and Olivia, and even Joe too. She would do the right thing, even if it made her feel like screaming.

“Why are you here, Dad?” The word felt strange on her lips. Marlene always felt like the grown-up with both of her parents.

Her father shifted, glanced at her, and then glanced away, as if he’d already done something wrong. “I know you and I don’t have a very close relationship.”

It was true, but it made her angry to hear him say it. Her father’s words put them on even footing, as if she were equally to blame for the awkwardness between them. Her father had deserted her. He’d had all of the power, and she’d had zero. To expect that dynamic to change because of the passage of time was unfair to say the least. Some wounds never healed. Marly felt like it was a major triumph just to be civil to the guy.

“You gave Mom custody. I haven’t seen you more than twice a year for most of my life. It’s hard to be buddies with a father who never calls, never writes, and never sends birthday presents on time. What do you expect from me?” She saw the door from the kitchen swing open and Joe saunter to the coffee station.

Get
out! Get out! Get out of here!
She didn’t want Joe hearing any of this. She had a bad feeling her inner teenager might throw a tantrum, and she didn’t want any adult witnesses.

“I guess I expected that one of these years your mother might step up and take some responsibility for what happened between us. That never really was her thing though,” her father said.

“Don’t even go there. Mom took care of me. You don’t call that stepping up?”

“She did do that,” he allowed. “But I think you’re old enough now to understand that your mother expects someone to take care of her. I loved her, but I couldn’t do everything. She wasn’t happy with me. I couldn’t make her feel whole. She needed something more, something I couldn’t give her.”

“I can’t imagine that you deserting us helped her out a whole lot.”

“I gave up, Marlene. I’m sorry, but I gave up. I convinced myself that someone else could do a better job of making her happy. I thought it was the least I could do. When she wanted sole custody of you, I thought that might help. I know it’s too late. I know that trying to make your mother happy made me lose you too. I made a terrible mistake. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I’d like the opportunity to become a part of your life again. On whatever terms you’ll have me.” Her father paused. “I keep thinking this will be easier if I can just think of the right way to say it.”

He took a deep breath.

Suddenly, Marlene knew what was coming. She held up her hand. Even with Joe listening on the other side of the waiter’s station, it was impossible to ride herd on her inner teenager. “Why don’t you just mail me an invitation to the wedding? I’m sure it will be lovely. I’ll turn it down, send a nice gift, and we’ll be done. End of story. Your little girl doesn’t need you anymore; she doesn’t need anyone. She’s all grown-up now.”

Her father crossed his arms. “I had a feeling you’d say that. I’d still like to get to know you better, be a part of your life again. I
am
getting married, Marlene. Margaret is an amazing woman, and she’s helped me discover what’s important in life. Like family. She’s a widow, has four kids. We’d really like you to come to the wedding.”

“Really? So you can show me what a family looks like? Forget it. I don’t want to see you playing father. Go ahead, get on with your new life. You don’t need me in it. You have my blessing. Just make sure Margaret gives Chameleon a good review.”

Her father touched her arm. “Marlene, don’t you ever wonder where you got your sweet tooth? I bet your mother still skips dessert, doesn’t she?” he asked. “Do you know chocolate is my favorite food? I bet you’re like me in other ways too. For example, I can tell you’re stubborn.” He smiled and Marlene saw her dimples on his face.

She looked at her father. His curly hair. His height, and, yes, the stubborn gold light in his warm brown eyes. It was all there. All of the things that made Marlene so different from her mother. “I have wondered,” she said. “That’s the thing, Dad. For fifteen years I’ve wondered about a lot of things. But you weren’t there for me to ask, and Mom doesn’t talk about you. And now…it’s too late. What difference does it make?” The words were as kind as she could make them. She stepped away from him. “You should go.”

Marlene heard the coffeepot touch down on the burner and saw the flash of Joe’s white jacket through the baker’s rack as he headed back to the line. Now she could tell her father what was really on her mind. “The only thing I haven’t ever wondered about is why I’ve never wanted a long-term relationship. Why bother getting attached to a man? They all leave. I have you to thank for that little gem of knowledge
—
well, you and Mom, I guess. She’s getting married too. Number five, every marriage more miserable than the last. She just doesn’t learn. I’m sure you guys both saved me a lot of heartbreak by setting such a good example. So, thanks for that, I guess, and really, good luck with your marriage. From what I’ve seen, you’re going to need it.”

“I’m sorry, Marlene. I hope you change your mind.” He pulled a thick, square envelope out of his pocket and placed it in her hand. He turned to go.

Marlene’s eyes followed him to the door, and she saw that Joe held it open for him.

“Damn it!” she whispered. She whirled back to her table and saw that the dessert was still sitting there too.

She grabbed it and marched over to Joe. “Buzz Eric. This is for table seven.” She shoved the plate into Joe’s hand. “Mind your own business, next time.”

“I just wanted a cup of coffee,” Joe said, handing the dessert plate off to a busboy and gesturing at Eric.

“Yeah, right.” She glanced at his still full cup.

“Don’t you think you were a little hard on him? I mean, give the guy a break, he’s reaching out to you.”

Fury made her teeth ache. “He doesn’t deserve a break unless it’s in one of his bones. And you are so not the guy to give me advice about my father. You won’t even talk to yours.”

“Bullshit. I drove sixteen hours to roast a pig for him.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually talk to him. You stormed in, showed off, made your big declaration, and then left him in the dust. Or the woods, as the case may be.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Marlene.”

“Sure he does. He’s just terrified he’ll say the wrong thing, and he’ll never see you again. You don’t exactly cut Frank a lot of slack. Why is that, anyway?”

Joe’s eyes were gray, his mouth a cold, uncompromising line. “None of your business.”

Marlene burst out with a bitter laugh. “Touché.”

She turned her back to Joe and began carefully wrapping the block of Belgian chocolate in plastic wrap to seal it against the odors of the kitchen. She needed something to do with her hands until she calmed down.

“So, you gonna go to the wedding or what?” he asked.

“Hell no.”

“He seems like a decent guy. He might stick around for you now.”

“Joe, you aren’t listening to me,” Marlene said with exaggerated patience. Inner teenager had reached her dizzy limit. “I don’t want a guy to stick around. I have no use for men in a supporting role in my life. That’s why I like you. You’re entertaining. You can cook. You’re a great lay. And, best of all, you’re leaving. I’ll have fond thoughts of you when you’re gone. Feel free to look me up whenever you come to see Olivia. Or your father,” she added nastily, because they both knew that Joe visiting Frank once he’d crossed the California line was a long shot. “I don’t need a daddy in my life to make me feel complete. I don’t need a boyfriend either. I’ve got all I need right here.” She tapped her chest.

Joe set his untouched coffee down and covered her hand with his own. His fingers spread out over her exposed collarbone, then his hand moved to caress her throat. “Yeah, you’ve definitely got that self-sufficient thing down pat. I have to hand it to you, sugar, you’ve got the best bad girl act I’ve ever seen, bar none. You almost had me convinced. Marlene, the heartbreaker, the good-time girl. Not a care in the world.” His voice was mocking. His hand on her neck was just on the safe side of threatening. Desire, unwilling, flared within her. “You even had me thinking that playing the field was more important than your job, sugar, but I’ve got your number now.” She tried to jerk away from him, but he snaked an iron arm around her waist and trapped her to his chest.

He bent his head to whisper in her ear. “I can see that fourteen-year-old girl who just didn’t get it. You had your own ideas of love, and your parents ripped them apart. You never put them back together again, did you? There wasn’t anybody to show you how except your mother, and she failed you over and over again.”

Joe’s words were hypnotic, his hands gentle on her body, and she leaned against him, remembering the loss. It hadn’t been so bad though. Olivia had always been there for her. And then Marlene had discovered boys. She didn’t need love. Love didn’t last. She just needed sex. Skin. Joe’s body to make her forget. Desire pinged through her.

“You focused on Chameleon, even though it really belongs to Olivia.” She froze as she processed Joe’s change of subject. “Unfortunately, Olivia buys your bad-girl act, hook, line, and sinker. She thinks you can’t commit to a job any more than you can commit to a guy. She has no idea that you can run her restaurant, absolutely no clue that the best line cook in town, the hottest chef I’ve ever seen in action, is hiding in her very own bakeshop. It’s one thing to avoid a relationship. Hell, I’m on board with that, sugar. The idea of falling in love scares the hell out of me. But look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to run this kitchen.”

Marlene couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

“If you don’t try, you don’t fail, huh?” Joe dropped his arms and stepped away from her.

Fury rose above her sadness, above her pride. For a moment she considered smacking him upside the head with eleven pounds of highest quality extra-bittersweet.

But she didn’t. The truth was enough to knock him out, and Marlene used it. “I can’t believe I just heard those words from the man who never sticks to a job
—
or a woman, for that matter
—
long enough to see if it’s a good fit,” she said. “Don’t talk to me about failure. Why do you move around so much, Joe? Still looking for a job big enough to impress Daddy? You think California is going to be the answer for you? You keep trying, chef. Just do me a couple favors, okay? Keep your amateur psychoanalysis to yourself, and stay the hell out of my head.”

She put both hands on Joe’s chest and gave him a shove into the prep table. “Why do you care, anyway? You’re leaving. It’s not your problem. In fact, why don’t you get out of here right now? Go find yourself another piece of ass. I don’t feel like company tonight.”

Joe crossed his arms and leaned on the table. “Sounds like you did a little eavesdropping of your own, sugar.”

“Not my fault. I had to pee.” She shrugged. “No worries. A piece of ass was all I was looking for from you too.” She met his hooded stare, knowing that she could bluff with the best of them.

“I don’t think you’re just a piece of ass, Marlene.”

“Too bad. That’s a perfect way to describe our relationship.”

Joe put his hands on her body like they lived there. “Then why stop now? I’m free tonight.”

“I’m done talking about this,” Marlene said, ignoring his lips on the side of her neck, soft and cruel, his thigh between her own, his hand on the back of her head. He cupped her face in his palm and held her, one hard hand in her hair, the other gentle on her jaw. Her mouth fell open, and he brushed his thumb tenderly over her lower lip.

The breath rushed out of her lungs, and she shuddered. Her hands trembled on his chest, and the softest parts of her body melded to the hardest parts of his. She could feel him throb against her, smell the bleach on his jacket and the curry on his skin.