Page 132 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas

“I just had a stressful day. Apparently, working on a business plan isn’t my happy place.”

“I don’t think it’s many people’s idea of fun.” Again, he seemed distant, and he caught Ivy’s eye across the bar. “Have you seen Lewis?”

“No. I thought he and Erin would be here by now.”

“I’m going to check the office quickly,” he said.

“Why don’t you just wait and talk to him another time? Maybe when I’m not hanging out at the bar on my own?”

“I want to get it over and done with.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “Carla will be here soon. And I won’t be long.”

“Fine. But I’m annoyed with you.”

He gave her another quick kiss, apparently undeterred by her emotional blackmail.

Finding the office empty, Warren made a hasty decision to catch Lewis at home. It would be easier to speak to him there anyway – away from the bustle of the hotel. After deciding to grovel to Anna later, rather than go back and tell her of his plan, he made a dash for the front door, then almost collided with Carla, who was coming the other way.

“Is the party that bad?” she asked. “You’re running away already?”

“No. I just need to nip over to Lewis’s place. I’ll be back soon.”

“See you later,” she said flatly.

He felt a pang of guilt, despite Anna insisting that Carla’s recent low mood wasn’t because of him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, continuing inside without glancing back at him.

He blew out a sigh, which fogged in front of his face and made him debate going back for his coat. It was only a five-minute walk, though. At a brisk pace, he could be there quicker than that.

He shivered as Lewis answered the door, dressed smartly in a pair of jeans and a shirt.

“Hey!” His forehead wrinkled in confusion as he opened the door wider. “I thought you’d be at the hotel. We’re heading down there soon.”

“I just came from the hotel,” he said, swallowing hard as he stepped inside. “But there’s something I want to talk to you about, and I wanted to do it before the party.”

Lewis shook his head as he closed the door. “If you’rehanding in your notice on New Year’s Eve, I’m going to be so annoyed with you.”

“Of course I’m not handing in my notice,” Warren said, struggling to comprehend that was a genuine concern. When Anna had mentioned it, he hadn’t taken it very seriously.

“Today? Or generally?”

“Generally,” he said with force. “Why would you think I’m quitting?”

Lewis sucked in a breath and led the way to the kitchen. “Because you’ve been in a bad mood recently. More so than usual. And I know you weren’t happy with me for commenting on the way you run the kitchen. Also, because I’m reasonably certain that at least one restaurant owner around here has been trying to poach you.”

Warren lifted his eyebrows.

“They have, haven’t they? If they’re offering you more money, you know I’ll match it.”

Warren sank into a chair at the kitchen table. “I’ve had job offers. But I never considered any of them.”

“Really?” The relief was clear in the sag of Lewis’s shoulders. He opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer. Without bothering to ask, he popped the tops off and handed one to Warren.

“Did you come to talk to me about Anna?” Lewis asked after sitting and taking a long swig.

“No. Well, yeah, but that wasn’t the main thing.”

“What then?”