Page 7

SIX

Noah

“Hey, chef, that reviewer from last night was back in here before. Did she catch you?” Billy calls out to me as soon as I push the kitchen doors open, still tying my apron behind me.

I scowl. “No she didn’t. I don’t want her in here again.”

The kitchen goes quiet as everyone holds their breath. A metal bowl clashes to the floor and the apprentice curses. “Sorry, chef.”

“Pick it up. Get on with it. Nothing to see here.”

“Yes, chef!” The sounds of chopping and orders being shouted across the kitchen resume and Billy comes over with the tablet, holding it out for me.

“We’re gonna be short on eggs this week.

Looks like our supplier had a shortage. They could only give us two-thirds of our order.

I could get Blair to run up to the supermarket, but I wanted to check with you first since that’ll blow out costs. ”

I shake my head. “Let’s not do that. We’ll take the pav off the menu for now and see if we can last until the new order comes in.”

“Yes, chef.”

He hesitates and I can tell he wants to ask about Olivia. I sigh. “What?”

“Well, it’s just that she said she posted a review and um… we might have looked.”

“Show me.” I hold out my hand, and he passes me his phone, screen already unlocked and the Instagram story playing.

Olivia smiles and leans in as if she’s about to tell the camera a secret, and I can’t help the little sizzle of excitement at the memory of those lips on mine.

Fuck.

“But you’d better be quick. I guarantee this place will be booked out for months next time I’m in Oz.”

I hand the phone back, not letting anything show in my expression. If she’s trying to appease me, she’s barking up the wrong tree, but I guess at least it’ll be good for business.

“We’re getting phone calls about next week already.” Jessie, my front of house manager pushes the door open and sticks her head in.

“Fine. Good. Let’s get our heads in the game for service.” I get my spray bottle and wet my skin down, then begin with a trip to the cool room to clear my head. Twenty minutes later, I’m whisking melting chocolate over a double boiler and Olivia Zeston is almost—almost—out of my mind.

It’s a good night. Despite not having the pavlova on the menu, we get twice the dessert order we normally would and we’re still serving the last table at ten.

It’s eleven by the time we’ve cleaned down the kitchen and half-past eleven before I’ve updated our food order and checked tomorrow’s bookings.

I shift back to my two-legged form for the drive home, which I guess is why I don’t taste her on the air as soon as I step out into the carpark. In fact, I almost run straight into her since I’m still trying to find my keys in the pocket of the jeans I just put back on. “What the—?”

“Sorry. Sorry.” She holds up her hands and jumps out of my way. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“At nearly midnight? You’re really waiting around her after dark on your own?”

What the hell is wrong with this woman?

“Please, I’m sorry. I feel so bad about last night, and I know I upset you.”

I scowl. “I wasn’t upset. I was angry.” I’m getting angry all over again and her soft, wide-eyed expression isn’t helping.

I forgot how fucking pretty she is.

Why am I even thinking about that?

Probably because, despite the fact that I made her come so sweetly for me, I am yet to have my own release. Something I was reluctant to do last night once I found out I’d as good as cheated with someone else’s woman.

“I’m really, really sorry. I just wanted to say that in person. And let you know I um… I posted my review. Because I didn’t want you to think there were hard feelings. At least on my end.”

I say nothing. She clearly isn’t going to leave me alone until she’s said her piece, but I don’t need to encourage her.

“So yeah.”

There’s an awkward silence. I fold my arms and watch her squirm, determined not to extricate her.

I wasn’t prepared for tears, however.

Her face sort of crumples. One moment she’s giving me that pleading puppy-dog look and the next it’s all screwed up and somehow still pretty and big fat tear drops are cascading down her cheeks.

“And I know you were mad about me cheating, but if it makes you feel better, I kinda wasn’t. Because Justin found somebody else and he wants to be with her. So we’re not even together anymore.”

My mouth drops open. He left her? He’s a fucking fool.

I should turn and walk away. This is none of my fucking business. Every muscle in my body aches to hold her. I can’t, though. “He’s an idiot,” I mutter.

She sniffs. “Maybe this is what I deserve.”

As much as I’m mad at her, I know the guy’s a dick and I can’t believe that.

I shake my head. “That’s bullshit, Zeston.

I don’t know you, but I know you’re not that person.

You made a mistake. Don’t let your head do that to you.

” After all, one kiss and some heavy petting is not the same as leaving him standing at the altar and running off with his best friend.

She doesn’t speak. She’s struggling too hard with the tears. I glance around the carpark. “Where’s your car? Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

She wipes at her face, but more tears flow to replace the ones she wipes away. “I d-don’t have one. I’m not driving in Australia.”

I stare. “And you were going to walk home all alone in the dark?”

It might be Kraken Cove and I’m pretty sure there’s no bad guy lurking between here and main street to get her, but I’m still not having that.

She shrugs. “It’s not that far.”

I curse. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”

“What? No. That’s OK.”

I scowl harder. Not happening. It’s not very often I try to do a nice thing, and here I am doing it for this girl and she’s going to try to stop me? Not a chance.

I grab her hand and lead her to my bike, pulling off my jacket and holding it out for her. “Put this on.”

She blinks but does as I say.

I practically shove my helmet over her head. Her red hair is so long it trails from beneath the bottom of the helmet. At least now I can’t see her tear-stained cheeks anymore.

“Get on. And hold tight. You’re staying at Bella Vista Bed and Breakfast, right?”