Kiss the Cook (21 page)

Surely he was
worrying needlessly. The bank would approve her loan regardless of the Spaghetti Loco information. And w
hen he got back from LA, he’d tell her everything and they’d
laugh about it and she’d tell him she loved him.

Considerably cheered, he
pulled into his parking space. What could possibly go wrong between now and Wednesday?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chris had to talk to Melanie. Had to
. Right away.

But the gods were conspiring against him.

He glanced at his watch for the dozenth time and frowned. His flight to Los Angeles was boarding and he needed to speak to Melanie before he left. He'd called the Pampered Palate half a dozen times, but he kept getting a busy signal. That was good for business but not good for him.

He'd also called her cell twice
only to be greeted by her voicemail. He’d left two messages asking her to call him right away. He was about to dial her again when the final boarding call was announced.

Damn.

He
had
to talk to her, had to explain before she heard it from someone else.

Glenn had promised not to call Melanie until tomorrow mornin
g with the news, which was fine-- but only if Chris talked to her first. Damn it, he should have told her the entire Spaghetti Loco story last night. ‘Fessed up that her loan might be kaput because of him.

Well, now he knew her loan was kaput.
The loan officer had called Glenn to deliver the regretful news that Miss Gibson's loan was denied. When the hell did banks start doing things
ahead
of schedule? Glenn had called Chris’s cell and sprung the news on him as he was waiting to board his flight. And to make matters worse, Glenn also announced Chris's trip to Los Angeles needed to be extended to meet with another client so now he had to remain on the West Coast until Friday.

He
boarded the plane and as soon as he’d stowed his carry-on in the overhead bin he sat and dialed Pampered Palate’s number again. He almost cheered out loud when he didn't hear a busy signal.

"Pampered Palate, Gourmet to Go," came Nan
a's gravelly voice.

Relief washed through him. "Nana, it's Chris. Is Melanie there?"

"Hiya, handsome," Nana said, and Chris had a mental picture of her patting her bright red hair. "Mel just left. She's helping out with the last of the deliveries. It's been a zoo here."

Chris swore silently. "I have to talk to her, Nana. Will you tell her I'll call her tonight?"

"She won't be home tonight. We have tickets to a double feature at the IMAX theatre."

Please turn off all electronic devices and cell phones in preparation for departure.

Chris raked his free hand through his hair. "Nana, please tell her to call me tonight after the movie.”

"It’ll be late.
"

"It doesn't matter what time it
is. I need to speak with her. Tonight.”

"Okay, honey. I'll tell her."

Chris said thanks, hung up, and turned off his phone. His stomach churned and his head pounded.

He had to talk to her before Glenn did.

~~~

The phone rang.

Chris rolled over and groaned. What the hell time was it? Peeking out of one eye, he grabbed the hotel’s phone receiver. "Hello?"

A mechanical voice greeted him. "Good morning. The time is seven A.M. This is your requested wake-up call."

Chris's eyes popped open and he sat up straight. One look at the beside clock confirmed that it was indeed seven in the morning. The tv was on. He must have fallen asleep watching the news.

She hadn't called him.

He jammed down the receiver. "Damn, damn, damn!"

What the hell time was it in Atlanta? He shook his head to clear it of sleep. Ten A.M. He had to call Melanie right away. He was just reaching for
his cell phone when it vibrated. Just vibrated-- no ringtone. He snatched up instrument and saw by the caller ID that Melanie was calling.

"
Melanie, hello-- "

“How could you?”

Chris squeezed his eyes shut at those accusatory words spoken in that biting tone . Damn it. She knew. And clearly blamed him. "Melanie. Let me explain-- "

"I'd like to see you try,"
came her furious voice.

"I tried to call you," he said, "to talk to you before I left."

"That was damn big of you."

"Why didn't you call me last night?"

"I did. I left you a voicemail.”

Chris checked the face of his phone and saw that he did indeed have a voicemail. Crap. When he turned his phone back on after landing in LA he must have set it on vibr
ate.

“I would have called you earlier this morning,” she continued, “but I’ve
been on the phone for the last hour. First with the bank, then with Glenn Waxman. I can’t even begin to explain to you my disappointment when I learned the bank turned down my loan other than to say it broke it my heart.

“Nor can I explain my shock when the loan officer told me the deciding factor in their refusal was the fact that another eatery that I knew nothing about was going to open across the street from Pampered Palate.”

“Melanie, I-- “

“I’m not finished. But my biggest shock, as well as the biggest heart break, came when Glenn Waxman told me that it was
you
who’d provided the information that tipped the bank’s decision against me. You, who wasn’t even supposed to be involved in my review and had only acted as a one-time stand-in for Glenn. You-- who
never bothered to tell me about any of this
.”

"Melanie, listen to me. This whole thing was an accident
. I overheard this guy saying that one of his clients had just signed the lease on the empty store across the street from the Pampered Palate and they planned to open a new restaurant."

"So?" she asked in that same cold, furious voice.

Chris scrubbed his free hand down his face. "So I had to tell Glenn."

"Why?"

"Because it was pertinent to the review. A review the company in which I’m a partner was signing off on. I didn’t want to tell him, but I felt it would have been unethical for me not to.”

"So you knew when you told him that he would add it to the independent review?
”

“Yes.”

“And you realized it might mean the kiss of death to my bank loan?"

Chris blew out a breath. "
I was hoping it wouldn’t, but yes, I realized it could jeopardize your chances.”

“Well, it not only killed my changes with Guardian Savings and Loan, but since the information is now disclosed in the independent review, and anywhere else I might apply will require that document, it’s unlikely that
any
bank will grant me the loan. So what I want to know is this: did you absolutely
have
to tell Glenn, or was it a gray area?”

“I suppose that technically
it's a gray area, but-- ”

"I see," she broke in, her voice changing from cold to frigid. "And when exactly did you overhear this conversation?"

"The morning we went canoeing."

She was silent for so long, he wondered if she'd just put down the phone and walked away. When she finally spoke and he heard the icy hurt in her voice, he almost wished she had.

"In other words, right after you found out that my loan was as good as gone, you took me to bed. Without ever mentioning what you’d learned."

"Melanie--
"

"But of course you didn't mention it. You knew how upset and concerned I'd be. Certainly not in the mood for sex, and that would have royally screwed up your plans. And how convenient that you didn't bother to say anything about it over the next two weeks.
Two weeks
, Chris. That’s fourteen days. That’s three hundred and thirty-six hours. That’s a long damn time not to mention something so important.
That's
what hurts most of all. Damn it, I
hate
being lied to!"

"I never lied to you. I was
going to tell you-- "

"But you didn't."

"I had every intention of telling you once the bank made its decision. And yes, I knew you'd be concerned and I didn't want to worry you needlessly. I was hoping as much as you that the loan would be approved."

"That'
s nice of you. Really. Did it ever occur to you that I might be interested in the fact that another eatery was opening across the street?"

"You wouldn't have been able to do anything about i
t for those two weeks, except pace the floor."

"I'm not a child who requires coddling, and I resent you treating me that way."

"I wasn't coddling. I was just trying to spare you unnecessary anguish."

"Well, I don't need to be spared." A bitter laugh rang in his ear. "You said you loved me. I shudder to think how you'd treat someone you hated. I was so worried that you'd turn out to be another Todd, and look at what happened. You make Todd look like a prince."

Anger, and damn it, hurt, slapped him. "Stop comparing me to that guy. I'm nothing like him."

"You're right. You're much worse. All he did was break my heart and bruise my pride." Her voice broke. "You've done that
and
robbed me of my dreams, too.” She pulled in a shaky breath. “I knew getting involved with you was a mistake, and it’s not one I’m going to perpetuate. This… whatever it is we’ve been doing, is done.
We’re
done. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want to hear from you again. Good-bye, Chris."

Before he could say another word,
she’d disconnected the call. She was gone, but the chilling finality in her voice echoed in his ears.
We’re done
.

He sat on the edge of the bed feeling… nothing. Gutted. Numb. Done? How could they be done? They’d barely gotten started.

He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. Damn it, he should have told her immediately. Unfortunately the timing of that realization wasn’t helpful. Cripes, what a mess. The one woman he wanted thought he was sludge. Thought he was worse than that loser Todd.

A fissure of anger worked through his misery.
Todd, the dirt-bag, had screwed up by being a dishonest, lying cow
ard. “Me? I screwed up by being honest. Doesn’t being ethical count for anything?”

But the realization of what he'd actua
lly done suddenly hit him like a punch in the gut.

He hadn't been honest with Melanie. He'd been honest with Glenn.

His good intentions aside, he'd royally screwed up. Now the jackpot question was: How the hell could he fix this mess?

In desperate need of caffeine, he called room service, o
rdered a full pot of coffee then showered while he wracked his brain. He was almost dressed and on his third cup of java when inspiration struck with the force of a lightning bolt. After mentally reviewing all the angles, a slow smile spread across his face.

It w
ould work.
It
had
to.

It was his only chance.

He ordered up another pot of coffee then called to postpone his morning meeting until after lunch. Then he booted up his laptop, plugged in his portable printer, and set to work.

~~~

Five hours and dozens of e-mails and phone calls later, Chris blew out a breath and looked at the spreadsheet he’d created. All that remained was to attach it to his email to Glenn. After that, it was out of Chris's hands.

He'd done all he could.

He prayed to God it was enough.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Melanie sat at the butcher-block table in the Pampered Palate's kitchen, staring into her empty coffee cup. Another hectic dinner rush was over. All she had to do was turn on the dishwasher and lock up.

She didn't think she had the strength to do it.

Burying her face in her hands, she groaned. What day was it? Thursday? Was it only two days since her world had fallen apart?

It felt like a lifetime.

She'd had no idea she could hurt so bad. Yeah, she knew all about pain, thanks to Todd, but she'd found out that Todd had only been a warm-up to the excruciating agony she would suffer at the hands of Christopher Bishop. Once again she was left with a broken heart.

Only this time all her dreams were shattered as well.

She didn't bother to look up when she heard Nana scrape out the chair opposite her. At least she had Nana. Nana would never betray her. Nana would always be with her, be on her side. She hadn't told her grandmother about C
hris's part in the loan fiasco-- she simply couldn’t bear to say the words out loud. She’d only told Nana they weren't getting the money.

"How long are you planning to mope?" Nana asked.

Melanie raised her head and peered across the table through gritty eyes. "I don't know. Why?"

"'Cause
I'm gettin' tired of it." Nana's lips thinned with clear annoyance. "When I think of the time you're wasting sitting around with a long face, it makes me mad. I haven't got that kind of time to waste. I'm an old person. Jiminy Cricket, I'm so old I don't even buy green bananas. I've mourned with you for two days, but I'm done. Starting now. I'd suggest you wipe that mopey look off your face and get happy."

Tears filled Melanie's eyes. Get happy? She didn't think she'd ever be happy again.

How many times was she going to allow herself to be annihilated before she learned her lesson? Well, never again. She was through with men. All of them. Forever. They were nothing but heartbreaking betrayers. She wondered what the requirements were to become a nun.

"You have to pull yourself together," Nana said in a no-nonsense tone. "Not getting the bank loan isn't the end of the world. We'll try another bank. And if that doesn't work, we'll figure out something else."

"It's not just the loan, Nana."

"Then I'm confused. What's got you in such a funk if not the loan?"

Melanie shook her head and looked down at her lap.

After
several seconds of silence Nana said, "Okay, let me guess. It has to do with your young man."

Melanie's heart pinched. "He's not my young man."

"Does
he
know that?"

"He does now."

Nana huffed out a breath and made a
tsking
sound. "So you gave him his walking papers. Why? Two days ago you told me you loved him. And he loved you."

"Things changed."

"All right,” Nana said, although her words were at odds with the disbelief in her eyes. “If you didn't want him, and you let him go, then why aren't you happy? Unless you think you made a mistake."

A wave of weary defeat rolled over Melanie. She simply hurt all over. "I didn't make a mistake, Nana. He betrayed me."

A myriad of emotions flashed over her grandmother's face. Surprise, skepticism, confusion, anger, sympathy. "Oh, hell, I’m sorry, honey,” Nana said, reaching out to squeeze Melanie's hand. “Are you sure?”

"Positive. He admitted it
."

Nana whistled
softly. "Well, I'll be a son of a gun. If he admitted it, then there's no doubt, but I have to say I'm surprised. And mighty disappointed. I never would have pegged him for a cheater."

"He didn't cheat on me, Nana."

Nana blinked behind her bifocals. "He didn't? Then what in the blue blazes did he do to betray you?"

Melanie took a deep breath and told Nana the whole story. When she finished, she felt better. At least now Nana would commiserate with her. Maybe they'd bake a batch of double fudge brownies when they got home. Yeah. She needed chocolate. Brownies c
overed with Rocky Road ice cream. A big bag of Hershey's Kisses on the side. Death by chocolate. Suicide by cellulite.

She needed to languish in a huge dose of her grandmother's love, warmth, and support. But when
she looked at Nana, her grandmother's expression made her draw back in surprise.

Nana didn't look loving, warm, or supportive.

Nana looked royally pissed.

"It's a sorry day," Nana said in a disgusted tone, "when a grandmother has to call her own granddaughter a horse's
patoot, but that's what you are."

Melanie blinked, stunned. Nana had never spoken to her like this. "Why are you angry? What did I do?"

"Doesn't it strike you as ironic that you dumped Todd, with good reason, because he was a lying, cheating, unethical crumb-bum, and now you've dumped Chris because he's honest, upstanding, and ethical?"

"But. . . but... he didn't tell me about the other restaurant.
And it’s because of him we didn't get the loan."

"Phooey. He didn't tell you the minute he found out because he didn't want you working yourself into a frazzle.
That sounds thoughtful to me. Misguided, but at least his heart was in the right place. As for the loan, we didn't get it because we're a new business and another business the bank sees as direct competition is opening across the street. It's a simple case of the bank not wanting to take a risk."

"But the bank only knows about the other eatery because of Chris."

"So? You're going to condemn the guy for doing the right thing? And what makes you so sure one of those other accountant fellas or bankers wouldn't have found out anyway?"

"Technic
ally, Chris didn't have to tell-- "

"Maybe from a
legal
standpoint, but what about
his
ethical side? You're angry at him for not compromising his principles? Good Lord, Melanie, your last man didn't even
have
principles.”

Melanie was starting to feel about two inches tall. "But I asked him if he
had
to tell-- "

"So it was a gray area," Nana broke in. "Big deal. It obviously wasn't a gray area to
him.
Clearly it would have compromised his integrity to remain silent. Seems to me that's a man worth having." She glared at Melanie over her bifocals. "And you're a horse's patoot."

"But Nana, he…
made love to me, knowing that he was going to place my loan in jeopardy. He didn't tell me. He knew for
two weeks
and never said a word."

"You make it sound like he knew for two
years.
No doubt he planned to tell you after the bank made its decision."

"That's what he
said
-- "

"And you honestly don't believe him?" Nana blew out a breath. "Honey, he made a mistake. He tried to do the right thing and he screwed up. H
e can't help screwing things up-- he's a male and it comes with the territory. Believe me, if a man like your Chris told me something, I'd give him the benefit of the doubt. Did you?"

Melanie sat stock-still, realization dawning in her. A sick, q
ueasy feeling settled in her midsection. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He'd tried to help her. She'd just been so shocked and disappointed, she'd lashed out.

And lost him.

Clapping her hand to her forehead, she wailed, "Oh, Nana! What have I done?"

Nana
hrumphed.
"Now that's better. Shame on you for blaming that sweet boy. Appears you have a lot to make up for."

"I was pretty harsh on him." She recalled their phone conversation and cringed. "He might not forgive me.
”

"You won't know unless you try. Chances are he's feeling as bad as you. Why don't you call him?
Tell him you’re sorry.”

Melanie nodded. “I’ll call him now. At the very least I owe him an apology.”

Just then Pampered Palate’s phone rang. It was after closing, but she reached for the instrument, hoping it might be Chris.

"Pampered Palate, Gourmet to Go."

"Is Miss Gibson there, please?" asked a vaguely familiar male voice.

"Speaking. Who's calling?"

"This is Vince Peters from Guardian Savings and Loan. I'm glad I caught you before you left for the evening."

The loan officer. The one who'd turned down her loan. Not exactly her favorite guy, but Melanie suppressed an urge to hang up on him.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Peters?"

"I'm calling with good news, Miss Gibson. In light of the additional information provided to me by Waxman, Barnes,
Wiffle, and Hodge, and after carefully reevaluating your application, we've decided to approve your loan."

Melanie felt her jaw drop open and her eyes pop wide. They probably made a
boing
sound.

"I beg your pardon? I thought the additional information caused you to
turn down
the loan."

Mr. Peters chuckled. "I mean the
additional
additional information. The loan has been approved."

Melanie was glad she was sitting. Otherwise sh
e would have fallen down with an unladylike splat.

"What information is that?" she asked in a weak voice.

"Why, the information about the dozens of private catering jobs you have scheduled over the next twelve months. I must say, Miss Gibson, when Mr. Waxman emailed me the spread sheet with these job orders, it changed the entire complexion of your loan application. Obviously, the Pampered Palate is doing very well and growing fast in the private catering arena. Under those circumstances, Guardian Savings and Loan is happy to assist you. If you'll stop by the bank tomorrow morning, we'll sign the necessary papers. Is that satisfactory?"

Melanie jarred herself out of her stupor. "Yes, Mr. Peters. That's fine."

"Excellent. See you tomorrow. Good-bye."

"
'Bye." Melanie slowly replaced the receiver.

Apparently she looked as dazed as she felt because Nana said, "By the look on your face, I'm guessing that
was the lottery office and you’re a winner."

Melanie blew out a long, slow, calming breath. "Even better. That
was Mr. Peters from the bank. The loan was approved."

Nana's eyes
bugged out. "I thought you said-- "

"I did. But he changed his mind." She jumped up and twirled around. "He changed his mind!"

Nana scratched her head and frowned. "That's great, honey. But did he say why?"

Melanie stopped spinning. "He said something about the dozens of catering jobs we have scheduled for the next twelve months."

"What catering jobs?"

Melanie dropped
back to earth with a thump. “Good question, and one I obviously should have asked him. But I was so stunned, I sort of lost my mind.” She pressed her hands to her face. “Oh, God, what if there’s been some horrible mistake? One that would make Mr. Peters take away the loan?” She snatched up the phone. “I'm calling Glenn Waxman. He's the one who told the bank about the catering jobs."

She dialed Glenn's number, pray
ing he'd be working late so she wouldn't have to wait until morning for the answers she needed.

"Glenn Waxman," came a masculine voice.

"Glenn, Melanie Gibson here. I just heard from Mr. Peters at the bank. He said my loan was approved."

"Hey! Congratulations. I'm happy for you."

"He said he changed his mind based on additional information you gave him. Something about future catering jobs?"

"Well, yes. I simply told him about them and
emailed him the spreadsheet of the work orders."

As much as she wanted to remain silent, take her loan, and slink away, Melanie couldn't. Even if it meant losing the loan, she couldn't accept it under false pretenses.

"Glenn, I have to be honest with you. I have no idea what you're talking about.
What
catering jobs?"

She h
eard him tapping on a keyboard. "Let me see," he said. "There's the anniversary party for Mr. Walter Rich and his wife the first weekend in September, a birthday party for Mrs. Lorna Bishop the second weekend in September, a baby shower-- "

"Did you say Lorna Bishop?"

"Yes. That's Chris's mother. There're twenty-seven orders in all. Chris emailed them to me from LA this morning."

Once again, Melanie gave thanks that she was sitting. What on earth had Chris done? Guilt hit her like a brick to the back of the head. Good grief. Clearly he felt so b
ad that she'd lost the loan, he'd made up some elaborate story about her having catering jobs lined up.

She felt awful. Horrible. He'd compromised himself to save her. She loved him for it, but she couldn't let him do it.