Bad Boys of Red Hook [2] You're the One (33 page)

“So I hear. Logan’s burning up my phone with text messages.”

Anger, hot, strong, and violent, shot through Skye and she turned so quick, Rocki had to step back. “Get out. I’m working. I’m not dealing with this now. Leave. Now.”

Rocki sucked in air and choked—probably on her gum. She coughed and then swallowed. When she stopped choking, she wiped her eyes. “Okay, we’ll talk later. I’ll call Patrice.”

Skye held on to her temper by a quickly fraying thread. “Don’t bother. Just leave while you still can.”

“God, Skye, you don’t have to shoot the messenger.” Rocki held up her hands, holding her phone in one—its text screen shining toward Skye. “Logan’s worried about you. He said you have the wrong idea, but he didn’t go
into details about what the wrong idea was. So, are you gonna tell me or what?”

“No.”

Harrison stepped in between them. “Rocki, don’t you have a set to play?”

Rocki looked from Harrison to Skye. “Fine, you don’t have to ask me twice.” She stepped toward the doors. “Okay, you do. I’m leaving. Skye, you know where I am if you need anything.”

Skye watched Rocki strut through the kitchen on her ridiculous heels.

Harrison put his hand on her shoulder. “You okay, Chef?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Patrice will be here in about twenty minutes if I know those two. Things are under control if you want to skip out the back way. I suggest you don’t answer your door tonight.”

She didn’t even try to smile; she was afraid her face would crack. Tension radiated through her—even her eyelids twitched. Not a good sign. “I might just take you up on that.”

Harrison walked her to the back door and held her coat for her. “I don’t know what happened, but call me if you need a shoulder to cry on. You know when I get off work.”

She slid into the coat and the vision of rolling around naked on the bed and making love to Logan with the soft fur coat beneath her skin flashed on her mental Jumbotron. Pain hit her again, quick and sharp and deep—like a punch to the heart. “Thanks, but I’m fine.” Maybe if she said it often enough, she would be.

He just nodded and didn’t look as if he believed her. She didn’t blame him.

She stepped out into the cold alley, and her phone rang again. This time it was Kelly. “Hey, thanks for slapping Logan for me.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“No, only best friends smack the shit out of cheating lovers. I hope I never have to return the favor.”

“What are you going to do?”

Skye unlocked the door and headed up the stairs fumbling with her keys. “I’m going to call Rex, the old cook, and see if he can be back before opening on Tuesday.” There, she said it out loud—she was leaving. She had to.

She let herself into the apartment, tossed her keys on the table, and shrugged out of her coat. Pepperoni was still at Pete’s, which was just as well. She didn’t feel like taking a midnight stroll.

“You’re going to quit? I thought you loved working there.”

“I do. I mean, I did. But, Kelly, I can’t be here and work with Logan. I just can’t.” She couldn’t imagine ever being able to see him without completely falling apart, and she didn’t fall apart. It wasn’t her MO.

“Are you even sure he’ll be back? If he and Payton are still engaged—”

“Of course he’s coming back. Nicki’s here. Logan would never leave Nicki.”

“But he’d cheat on you? He’d leave you?”

“You saw it with your own eyes. You tell me.”

“He did say it wasn’t what it looked like. Maybe you should talk to him.”

“Kelly, I saw the picture. What did she do, tie him to the chair and force him to whisper sweet nothings in her ear? I really don’t
want to hear anything more from him ever again.”

“I don’t know. Talk to him. Get the whole story. It will give you closure.”

“Has closure ever helped you?”

“We’re not talking about me. Don’t you want to know why he’d do this?”

“I know why. Look at that woman—she’s supermodel material and I’m the Pillsbury Dough Girl.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m short and fifteen pounds overweight, which, at my height, makes me practically obese.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m finally being realistic. It’s about time I got a shot of reality. At least Logan got his too.”

“I have a bad feeling about this, Skye.”

“Probably the same one I’ve had since the beginning. I knew it was a mistake and I did it anyway. It serves me right. I’ll never make that mistake again. Lesson learned: Never fall in love with a man you can’t imagine living without, because you’ll surely have to learn.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, Kell. I didn’t think anything short of being hit by a bus could hurt this bad. I’ll probably cry myself to sleep and get up and go to work tomorrow morning. Being in the kitchen always helps me forget what a disaster I’ve made out of my life. Then I’ll get the hell out of Red Hook before he comes back on Monday. Let me go so I can call Rex. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”

“Skye, think about what I said. Call me if you want to talk more. I’m always here for you.”

Skye couldn’t say anything, so she stood there with
tears streaming down her face and nodding before she was able to croak out the word, “Bye.” Skye ended the call, curled up in a ball on the couch, and fell apart. The worst part was that the only shoulder she’d ever wanted to cry on belonged to the one man who built her up only to turn around and tear her down. And still, even after he’d shattered her heart, she still wanted him, she still missed him, she still loved him.

*   *   *

Skye had only quit one job before, and she didn’t know how to quit without building up a head of steam.

She was out of steam, out of tears—she checked her watch: four p.m.—and out of time. She had to get this over with.

Every time she walked past her computer on her way to the walk-in freezer, she refreshed the screen. She was OCD-ing like a sadist with a new bullwhip. She stared at the picture of Logan receiving a congratulatory kiss from his beautiful fiancée—the caption below the photo was
Logan Blaise—a Double Winner
. Payton’s engagement ring caught the light at the same time the camera caught their kiss.

If there was a possibility that the nightmare of the last day was a misunderstanding, the pictures, tweets, Facebook postings, and video feed coming out of the competition put a bullet through the heart of her last hope.

The blogs were all over the fairy-tale story of Logan’s success and his and Payton’s upcoming New Year’s Eve wedding.

She didn’t know why she was glued to her computer—it was like some sick masochistic fascination. And every picture, every interview, every mention of Logan and
Payton together, just shattered what was left of her already broken heart.

She shut down the computer, took off her apron, and walked out onto the floor. She did her deep-breathing exercises on her way to the office and knocked.

“Come in.”

Slater sat at Logan’s desk. His hair shone in the overhead lighting, and his hazel eyes seemed to see right through her. “I was looking for you last night. Rocki said you ducked out the back. I even went up to your place—you didn’t answer the door. Logan was concerned about you.”

The last thing she wanted to do was discuss Logan. “I went to sleep early. Is Pete around? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s upstairs—Nicki just got home from Francis and Patrice’s place.” He clicked something on his computer—a computer that looked like a spaceship. Neon green lights shot through the keyboard and around the edges. It was the biggest laptop she’d ever seen. It must have had a twenty-inch screen. Alienware—she’d never heard of that brand but wouldn’t mind taking it for a spin. Then again, maybe not. She’d already spent enough time looking at pictures of the love of her life with his fiancée.

Slater’s fingers flew over the keyboard at unbelievable speeds. He scanned the screen, hit a few more keys, and then looked at her again. “I can see you have something to discuss. Come on, I’ll take you up.”

She got a sudden chill; she wasn’t sure if it was from the glacial look in his eyes or the room’s frigid temperature. “You don’t have to. I know the way.”

He leaned back in the worn desk chair—the look in his eyes belying his relaxed pose. “You do realize I’m
managing the place while Logan’s away. If there’s something you need to discuss with Pop that has anything to do with the restaurant, I need to be there.”

Too damn bad. “I’d prefer to speak to Pete alone.”

Slater saved his work and shut the lid with the finality of slamming a door. He stood. “No.”

“What are you, some kind of self-appointed bodyguard? Pete doesn’t need protection from me.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Logan. I really don’t care. All I know is that Logan is strung tighter than a nuclear power plant’s IT guy who just discovered they were being attacked by the Fukushima virus.”

“Fukushima virus?”

“Take my word for it: It’s bad. I don’t know what the hell is wrong, but I know it has something to do with you. So forgive me if I don’t want to let you run roughshod over my father too.”

“Run roughshod over your father? As if. And as for Logan, I’m hardly the cause of whatever it is that’s bothering him. Maybe it’s his guilty conscience. I’m not the one cheating.”

“Logan doesn’t cheat. Ever.”

“Right. That’s why he’s kissing his ex on camera. Look, I’m not here to get into a pissing contest with you, Slater. I don’t have the right equipment. And I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you sing your cheating brother’s praises. I quit. I’m leaving after my shift tonight.”

Slater’s mouth dropped open and Skye wanted to stick the stapler in it. Instead, she held up her hand to stop whatever was about to come out. “Don’t worry. I’ve already spoken to Rex—the chef I replaced—and he’ll be
here before opening on Tuesday. The kitchen is covered. I’m finished. And you and your sainted brother can both go to hell.”

Rocki burst through the door like a neon-colored cyclone. “Skye—there’s a table that wants to compliment the chef. They sound like they know you. I don’t know what you’ve got goin’ on, sister, but they are four of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen in one place—well, maybe except onstage in
Magic Mike
. Those guys were hot, but then they were wearing a lot less then the men asking for you. So I’ll gladly wait to make a more informed decision at a later date. I wonder if they dance.”

“What guys?” Skye and Slater asked in stereo, which was just too weird for words. Slater puffed up like Barney on steroids. Why should he care if there was an entire football team waiting for her?

Rocki blew her pink streak out of her eyes and grabbed Skye’s hand. “I figured you and Logan must be through for you to call your posse—”

“My posse?”

“Please tell me you’ll share. I’ll give you first dibs and everything. No pressure, but the ginger with the earring is definitely my type.”

Rocki tugged on Skye’s hand and dragged her through the door. She stepped out onto the floor and a table of men stood at attention. Her gaze landed on Paddy.

“Hey, squirt, you’ve put together an amazing menu. The food was excellent. You’ve done us all proud.”

His worried eyes locked on hers, he opened his arms, and it was as if the dam broke. She’d been holding it together all day. Through the morning prep, the lunch rush, the dinner prep, and all the times she checked the Internet for updates on Logan. She’d been stuffing all the
tears, putting emotions on a back burner. But one word of praise from her big brother shattered her composure. She ran for him blubbering like a baby.

Paddy wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, leaving her feet dangling. “We’re here now. It’s going to be okay.”

She looked over Paddy’s shoulder and saw the rest of her brothers looking nervously from her to one another.

Kier shrugged to Colin, and Reilly looked like he expected their father to come after him for pulling her hair.

“What…what are you doing here?”

Paddy set her down but didn’t let her go. “Kelly said you needed us. I sent out a code red and we jumped on the next plane.”

“Who’s taking care of your restaurants?”

“Our sous chefs.”

“But you never leave—not all of you.”

Kier gave her his you’re-in-danger-of-getting-a-smack-on-the-ass look. “You never needed us before. When we get a code red, we come to fix the problem.” He thrust out his chest and scanned the room, his blue eyes flashing, looking almost purple in the bar lighting, and landed on someone.

Skye followed his gaze and saw it was locked squarely on Slater.

Slater’s gaze shot from Kier—the ginger Rocki had talked about—to Rocki and back again. His bearing went from confused to street fighter in a nanosecond.

Pete and Francis flanked Slater.

Reilly and Colin stood on either side of Kier. Shit. All they needed were cowboy hats, six-shooters, and some cheesy piano music and they’d have their own spaghetti western. This was so not good.

Skye stepped out of Paddy’s arms, wiped her tears, and went straight to Pete and grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. “Pete Calahan, this is my family.”

He leaned in and whispered. “Your brothers?”

She nodded. “Patrick’s the big one—you heard about him. Kier is the ginger with the earring—our rebel without a clause. A lawyer turned chef—”

Rocki actually swooned. “He’s a lawyer and can cook too? Yum.” She stepped closer to Kier, gave him the seal of approval, and flashed the bright white Rocki special. “Hi. How are you with torts?”

Slater took a step forward. “Can it, Rocki. Pretty boy’s not here for a quickie. He’s come to rescue the little princess who’s been slumming it and playing us for the last month. Little Ginger’s here to take her back to the castle. Isn’t that right, Skye?”

Colin stepped in front of Kier—either to shield him or to get first dibs on Slater.

She pushed Slater back a step for his own protection and because if someone got to hit him, she’d take the first swing. He stepped back willingly, obviously, since she’d have as much chance of pushing him around as she would pushing a freakin’ mountain. She was surprised he moved. “Slater, leave Rocki out of this. I don’t know where you came up with this princess crap or what kind of castle you think I’m from, but you know nothing about me. I don’t care if you don’t like me, but I don’t want trouble, so I strongly suggest you keep your mouth shut. You see my brother Colin over there? The big guy in the red shirt? He’s a seventh-degree black belt in tae kwon do. He can turn you into a pretzel if he wanted to. So be a good boy and back off.”