Seducing the Chef (At First Sight #1) (7 page)

He stretched on the sofa and jammed a pillow beneath his head. Using the remote he clicked on a late night talk show. The voices droned and the images flickered but failed to derail his thoughts.

He hadn’t known who Allie was. Had she truly been unaware of his identity? Exploring the idea at this moment meant leaving his comfort and trying to talk to her. He doubted she would let him inside. In the morning he would confront her. The droning voices and sheer exhaustion sent him to sleep.

He woke with the dawn. Though part of him considered heading upstairs he needed the calming effect of his morning exercise routine. The dull sky and heavy air made his efforts seem harder than usual. After completing the Sun Salutation he strode to the edge of the terrace and climbed the wall to stare at the second floor.

Was Allie awake? He didn’t owe her an explanation but he must consider she hadn’t known who he was. He’d never posted his picture on the restaurant’s website. He had no page on any social media. He stared upward and saw no light. She must have overslept.

Greg jumped from his perch. He showered, shaved and dressed. Since today was Saturday he was due at Five Cuisines before ten to make preparations for lunch. Sunday’s schedule had him arriving at the same time.

He dashed upstairs and pounded on the door of Steve’s apartment. When she didn’t answer he knocked harder. Had she walked to town for coffee? He hurried downstairs and called a greeting to the doorman.

“Joe, did you see Steve’s guest this morning?”

The man shook his head. “The night man said around two AM she carried her luggage to her car and tore away like the devil rode her exhaust.”

Greg swallowed the curse he’d nearly uttered. He returned to his apartment. Nothing could be done before Monday. He felt sure the magazine offices were closed until then. He wouldn’t go after her especially since he had no idea where she lived.

Chapter Five

When Allie woke she felt as though she’d spent the night battling demons. Why had she returned last night instead of waiting until this morning? She growled as the reason appeared. Anger and avoidance of Greg had propelled the flight. When she recalled the wild ride she shook her head. She’d been fortunate the roads had been deserted and she hadn’t had an accident. Greg’s comments and his questioning her honesty had pressed her flight. She’d definitely exceeded the speed limit.

She rolled out of bed and dressed. By the time she finished her first cup of coffee she felt alert and in need of action. There were those articles Mrs. Ramsey had said her father had written. The woman hadn’t read them.
Lies. Proof needed. How?
She would head to the office archives where back issues of all the magazines were kept. She grabbed her bag and keys.

When she reached the building where the magazine group had their offices she parked in the basement garage and rang for admission. The security guard admitted her. “Forget something?”

She shook her head. “Need to do some research. I’ll either be in my office or the basement archives. An hour or two will see me gone.”

“If you haven’t left I’ll check on my next rounds.”

“Thanks.”

Allie took the elevator to her office, unlocked the door and switched on the light. She sat at the desk and booted the computer. Greg said his father had died fifteen years ago. She needed the date for the archive search since the supposed articles had been written before he died. Hopefully there would be more than one copy of the issues she needed.

Finally she found a small obituary. Out of curiosity she searched for Le Provencal. After identifying the right one she checked for articles and found several. There were citations from the health department for unsanitary conditions. Then she found mention of a law suit citing several cases of food poisoning. Did Greg know anything about what had happened years ago? What she’d found were better reasons for a failure than any supposed reviews. She printed all and went down to the archives.

After turning on the lights she located the Good Eatin’ section. She found the boxes for a year before Victor Ramsey’s death and three months after. She set the boxes on a table and perched on a stool. She opened the first one.

She laughed. She was in luck.
Bless whoever managed the archives.
There were three copies of every issue she wanted. Once she had fifteen copies she returned the boxes to the shelves and used one to carry her spoils. She returned to her office and examined each issue. Then she searched for the resolution of the law suit. After failing to learn more she packed the magazines and articles, told the guard she was leaving and went down to her car.

At the apartment she settled on the couch and scanned the magazines from cover to cover. By evening her eyes burned. She looked at the unread stack.
Just four more
. They could wait until tomorrow. So far there had been no mention of Victor Ramsey or Le Provencal.

Why had Mrs. Ramsey lied? Allie couldn’t think of a reason. Had her father written articles and never published them? But Mrs. Ramsey had said she had watched her husband burn them. The policy of all four magazines had been tuned to the Good in the title. Allie sighed. Who had lied? Had her usually cool father made a heated threat? Had Greg’s mother needed to blame someone for her husband’s suicide? Or had Greg’s father used a lie to cover his failure to make the restaurant succeed? Knowing what had happened with the lawsuit could explain a lot.

By Sunday afternoon she finished searching the magazines. She packaged them and added the printouts and a note. She addressed the box to Greg at the restaurant. First thing tomorrow she would call a messenger service to deliver the package.

* * *

On Monday morning Greg sat in his office at Five Cuisines and studied the menus for the following week. He checked the daily order sheets and printed the recipes for the sous chefs. Once he finished he reviewed the accounts for the past week. Even with several empty tables there’d been a healthy profit. The coming week was booked solid, a marvel for early summer when people were on vacation.

He frowned. Two of the empty tables had been Allie’s. He groaned. Thinking about her raised memories of the greatest sexual experiences he’d ever had. Even thought he questioned her motivation for visiting Five Cuisines he still desired her. He leaned back in his chair. Was she completely innocent of his mother’s accusations? Was it too late to make amends? How could he do that?

The bell at the door rang. Greg left his office and opened the door. A messenger waited. “Package for Greg Ramsey. Signature needed.” The man thrust a clipboard into Greg’s hands. He sighed and took the package. The weight surprised him.

When he reached his office he stared at the address. Manhattan, a street but no name. He removed the paper taking care to preserve the address. He suspected the package came from Allie and the address could help him find her. Using an address seemed better than calling the magazine offices and have her slam the receiver. He opened the box and the first thing he saw was a typed note.

Thought you should see these issues of Good Eatin’ from a year before your father’s death to three months after. There are no articles mentioning him of Le Provencal.

Greg sank on a chair. The note confirmed his suspicions. Why had his mother lied?

Out of curiosity he lifted the magazines and put them on the desk. He saw several computer printouts and removed them. As he read the words he frowned. There were three health department citations and an article about a lawsuit. What did these items mean?

He reached for the phone to call his mother and remembered she was out of town until Thursday morning. He needed to know if she had lied or had been lied to by his father. If the restaurant had lost the lawsuit the settlement could have been the cause of the failure; not the reviews that were never written in the first place.

What if that was the truth? If he wanted Allie in his life he would have to cook and eat crow fricassee, not a tempting idea.

* * *

On Thursday morning Greg dialed his mother’s number. “Did you have a good time?”

“So so. I’m not one for casinos. Spa was great.”

“Could you come to the office?”

“Now?”

“There’s something I want to show you.”

“What?”

“Not something I can explain over the phone.”

“Don’t be so mysterious,” Stella Ramsey said. “You know how I hate surprises.”

“You have to see to believe.” He swallowed. She wouldn’t like what the package held. The contents of the box from Allie gave lie to his mother’s tale of his father’s death and the loss of Le Provencal. “Please, Mom.”

“All right but I can’t stay long.”

Fifteen minutes later she entered. Greg smiled. “Thanks.”

“So what is this big surprise?”

He handed her Allie’s note. “Read this.”

She gripped the paper and read. “What’s this supposed to mean?”

“I checked each issue of the magazines she sent and found no mention of Dad or the restaurant. Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t. I believed Victor. I remember how he and Peter had argued.” She clasped her hands in her lip. “There were problems in our marriage but I tried to make the relationship work. Your father insisted on unconditional belief.”

“I know you tried.” He handed her the printouts. “Citations and a lawsuit.”

When she looked up her eyes held a sheen of unshed tears. “I don’t understand. Our kitchen was always spotless.”

“The health department doesn’t make up stories. According to what I’ve read, the last one was posted the same morning the family who sued had eaten here. How much did you have to do with the restaurant?”

“Almost none. Your father insisted I stay home with you. He was a proud man and thought a working wife made him feel like a failure. Until you were ten your grandfather controlled the kitchen. Then he retired and returned to Italy.”

Greg nodded. “Maybe after that was when the problems began.”

She covered her face with her hands. “So Victor decided to blame Peter for his own actions. Your father knew I still cared for Peter. Victor made sure my love became hate. Though I loved Peter I would never have broken my vows.”

Greg placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself for trusting Dad.”

A few tears spilled over her cheeks. “He said he loved me. I’m sure he did but he hated Peter more. What do we do now? Thirty two years ago I messed up my life. Now I’ve ruined yours.”

“It’s not ruined. You do owe Allie an apology.”

“I know. Shame it’s too late to tell Peter how sorry I am.” She wiped her eyes. “What will you do about Allie?”

“Eat crow. Already decided how to prepare the dish.”

She laughed. “You do owe her two dinners. Consider seducing her with food.”

“That’s a brilliant idea.” Ideas flowed into his thoughts. Which rooms had she missed?

He hugged his mother. She walked to the door. “I’ll see you this evening. There’s something I need to do.”

Greg sat at his desk. He rested his elbows on the blotter and thought of Allie. Did he love her? He sort of thought this was where he headed. He desired her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. Not just for sex, though it had been exciting and always left him craving for more.

Seduce her with food. Great idea and he had some thoughts on how this could be accomplished. He opened the file for last week’s reservations. Once he knew where she hadn’t been he could solve that problem.

* * *

Since her return from Steve’s apartment Allie had shoved herself into work. Keeping busy had left her with little time to think about Five Cuisines. Greg, the pleasure she had found in his arms. She fisted her hands.
Enough with the regrets. Life goes forward.
Stepping into the near or distant past was futile. He’d had the box for almost a week and hadn’t called.
So be it.

So she’d fallen hard and fast for a man when the relationship had a zero chance of being a lifelong commitment
. Love is ephemeral
. She’d always known that. She’d seen her parents’ careful courtesy to each other. There’d never been any spontaneous gestures.

Greg’s face flashed into her thoughts. Her body heated. Why hadn’t he called at least to apologize?

She logged off the computer and reached for her bag. Someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”

Her sister appeared in the doorway. “You’ve been holed up in here all week like a bear hibernating in a cave for the winter. It’s summer.”

Allie laughed. “And I’ve been as grumpy as one roused too early.”

Meg nodded. “You said it. What’s up?”

“Just a small problem.”

“A man?”

“Yes but that’s over. I want to tell you about this boutique I discovered. Lingerie that’s unique and sexy.”

“What about a sister bash tonight. I’ve no plans.”

Allie arched a brow. “What about Jason?”