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MEGAN
“So then what happened?” I ask, cradling Deuce on the floor of the living room as I watch his tiny hands reach for my hair. His smile lights up my whole world, making it hard to focus entirely on Lena’s complaints, but I do my best.
Lena exhales dramatically from the couch, the picture of exasperation. “I showed him around the kitchen and then the club, like Hunter made me.”
“And?”
“And what?” she snaps, her tone defensive—too defensive.
“And why are you so angry about it?”
“I told you. He’s forcing this guy intomyspace.”
“To help you at the club,” I counter, holding back a smile. “So you can be more creative with the menu. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Oh, so you’re in on it, too?”
Deuce gurgles happily, his bright eyes locking on mine as I lean down to pepper kisses across his chubby cheeks. Thesoftness of his skin, the pure innocence of his laughter—it’s impossible to feel anything but joy when he’s in my arms.
“I’m not in on anything, Lena,” I say, laughing softly as I nuzzle my son. “I just know your brother. All he ever wants to do is make the people he loves happy. And like it or not, that includes you.”
“What he’s doing,” she says, crossing her arms like a petulant teenager, “is making me sorry I even brought up extending the menu in the first place.”
“Lena…”
“What?”
“What is it about this guy that’s got you so…bothered?” My voice is gentle, teasing even, but her reaction is telling. She bristles, her lips pressing into a thin line, as if I’ve hit a nerve.
Hunter would never admit it to me, but I’d bet good money he’s hired this Oliver guy not just for the club but as a distraction to keep Lena away from Christian. And knowing my husband, the guy is probably hot as hell. If he’s going to do something, he’s not going to half-ass it.
“You should understand what I’m dealing with. I’ve just finally started to gain some respect from the staff,” Lena says, her frustration spilling out in a rush. “And now Hunter brings in some ‘master chef’ to waltz in and usurp my power.”
“Usurp your power?” I chuckle. “Have you been reading that fantasy romance book of yours again?”
“Whatever, Megan.”
“What’s this guy’s name again?”
“As if you don’t know.”
“Seriously, Lena, Hunter hasn’t mentioned anything about him to me.”
She huffs. “His name is Oliver. And he’s… well, he seems very sure of himself. I think someone in his family owns a restaurantin Chinatown. So yeah, he’s got experience running a busy kitchen.”
“That’s a good thing, right? He could be helpful.”
“Running the Blue Whiskey kitchen ismyjob. I may not have gotten the position the old-fashioned way, but I’ve worked my ass off since to prove myself. I just don’t want this Oliver guy overstepping.”
I pick up Deuce, pressing his tiny body to my chest as I rub his back. The little burp he lets out makes me grin. “Listen, Lena. Neither of us are brain surgeons, but we’re both more than qualified to do our jobs. And you know as well as I do that Hunter would never let anyone overstepyouat the club.”
She leans back against the couch, her irritation softening slightly. “I just feel blindsided, you know? One minute I mention wanting to change the menu, and the next thing I know, Hunter’s already lined up some guy like he’s been planning this for weeks.”
I could tell her what I suspect about Hunter’s motives, but that would only make her feel manipulated. And besides, I have a hunch there’s more to her feelings than she’s letting on.
“So, you really don’t like this Oliver dude?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” she admits, her voice softer now. “It’s just… a feeling I have about him.”