The Dark Side of the Rainbow (11 page)

“You look beautiful, Brooke.”

She smiled shyly, adjusting a black clutch in her other hand in order to close the door behind her. “Thank you. You look very dashing in your tuxedo.”

Landon had chosen a cream-colored Dolce and Gabbana jacket with black pants because it complemented him the best. Earlier, while standing in front of his mirror tying his bow tie, he knew more than anything that he wanted Brooke to desire him.

Smiling his thanks, Landon offered his arm to her, ready to escort her to dinner. She entwined hers through his, and seemed to draw him as close as possible without being too forward.

She spoke first as he led her to the dining room. “I did a quick review of the photos I’ve taken and I’m pleased. You have a very beautiful ship.”

“Thank you. I poured myself into the design and the launching of the cruise business.”

“You did a wonderful job with the craftsmanship. The state-of-the-art technology is truly sublime. I nearly fainted when I picked up the remote in the bathroom, began pressing buttons, and saw the bottom left corner of the mirror light up with the early evening news.”

Landon chuckled at the image her words evoked. “I had hopes that the built in monitor would cause such a reaction. It’s hard to resist pushing buttons.”

It was Brooke’s turn to laugh. “Diabolical.”

For a moment the pair was silent as they made their way toward the private dining room. “While doing a preliminary review of the shots, I noticed the name of the ship. I hadn’t seen it while taking the photos. It’s an interesting name,
The Absolution
. What was your inspiration?”

Landon slowed his pace to a halt about a hundred yards from the door of the private dining room. For a moment, he looked ahead as if in deep in thought. Slowly, he turned to look at the lovely woman on his arm. If she knew the reason he had chosen the name of his ship, what would she do?

“It’s a story for another time. Have I told you how beautiful you look?”

He was obviously changing the subject, and she knew it.
Did my compliment cause the slight flush of pink on her neck or was it something else?
he wondered.

Brooke answered with a steady voice. “You have.”

Smiling, he led her to the door. “Good. I wanted to be sure you knew.”

The quiet din of the guests milling about indicated they had arrived in plenty of time.

“May I get you a drink?” Landon offered, gesturing toward the bar.

“Yes, please. I’ll have a club soda with a twist of lime.”

There was a small line for the drinks. When Landon returned, he was surprised to see a man speaking with the woman that filled his every waking thought. He held back briefly before making his way toward her.

“Thank you,” Brooke said when he handed her the drink. “Landon, this is Peter Randall.” The two men shook hands. Turning to the new comer, she explained, “Mr. Gray is the owner of the Grand Vue and this ship.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Gray. You have a terrific vessel and an even more impressive hotel. I have enjoyed my stay immensely.” Peter looked at Brooke. “I wish I would have met you sooner. I would like to have gotten to know you better. I leave for home on Tuesday.” The handsome stranger paused. “Would you, by chance, be interested in having dinner with me on Monday, before I leave? I heard there is a great restaurant in Bariloche, called Dragonfly.”

The unexpected laugh from both Brooke and Landon caused Peter’s eyebrows to arch in question.

“Sorry,” Brooke chuckled. She looked at Landon before continuing. “It’s an inside story, something amusing that Mr. Gray told me while we dined there last night.”

Peter looked apologetic. “Oh, I didn’t realize the two of you were . . .”

Landon interrupted. “We’re not. It was a business meeting.” They were the hardest two phrases he had ever uttered. He wanted to tell the handsome stranger to find another woman to pursue. The thought of Brooke laughing over funny and interesting stories while sitting in the softly lit dining room of Dragonfly with Peter Randall sparked a primal surge of jealousy he had never before felt. Yet, to save her from an awkward moment, he had made the statement for her. He knew he would pay the price for his chivalry in spades when she agreed to have dinner with him.

Instead of accepting his invitation, Brooke smiled apologetically. “That is very kind of you, Peter. Unfortunately, I won’t be available. I am actually here in Patagonia working on assignment. I am scheduled for an overnight trip to Mascardi Lake. I leave late Monday morning and won’t be back until Tuesday evening.”

The interloper gave her a gracious smile. “Oh well, that is too bad. It was very nice meeting you, Brooke.” He then turned to Landon. “And you as well, Mr. Gray.” In a quieter voice, but loud enough for Brooke to hear, he said to the resort owner, “You’re a very lucky man.”

Neither the words nor the meaning had been lost on Brooke. Landon held her gaze for a moment as Peter walked away. A slight blush deepened the color of her cheeks.

“Are you really leaving town on Monday?” Landon asked in a quiet, serious voice.

She nodded. “I hired a guide to take me to see the glacier valleys.”

“And if you hadn’t already had plans?” He couldn’t resist asking the question. Would she resent his prodding?

No longer flushed, Brooke looked directly at Landon. “I would have politely refused, like I have done many other times.”

With a gentle look, he praised her. “Your forthrightness is a breath of fresh air, Ms. Johnson.” He offered her his arm and led her to their assigned seats.

T
he stadium seating dining room was ingenious. There were three levels of custom-made tables with fifteen seats per row. Each level was configured in a semicircle, one row lower than the other. The lowest level of the room was the kitchen, giving all the diners a clear view of the action.

Center and facing the rows of seating was a granite countertop with two prep tables on each side where the sous-chefs worked to assist the executive chef. Two large LED monitors were suspended above the cooking space. One showed an aerial view of the stove, while the other provided images of the chef’s prep space.

Each semicircle table was covered with the finest white linen money could buy. Waterford crystal and Limoges china and cutlery made an elegant table service. It was truly a food lover’s dream and, thus far, worth every penny of the extra cost guests paid to attend the private demonstration.

Landon seated himself and Brooke at the far right end of the top row. “I hope you don’t mind sitting in the back?”

“Not at all. The view is perfect, even from here. Does your brother-in-law do all of the private dinner events?”

“He has been. We are training a new person to take over the events, another Michelin star-rated chef. I discovered Juan Carlos at Bolero in London a year ago. Have you heard of it?”

Brooke shook her head.

“It’s a great restaurant in Chelsea. Several months ago I managed to tear Gaston away from my sister and their children long enough to take him with me on a trip to experience the fine cuisine and Juan’s mastery of the kitchen.

“When the chef heard that Gaston was visiting, he came to our table to speak with us. My brother-in-law’s reputation precedes him. I managed to slip Juan a note requesting a meeting with him after the dinner service. Not wanting to be seen too close to Bolero, I invited him to our hotel in London where we made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. “

Taking a sip of her drink, Brooke’s interest was piqued. “How are things going so far?”

“Very well, except for the private demonstration event.”

“How so?”

Landon looked down at the kitchen area and could tell they were close to starting. “Juan is the executive chef for
The Absolution
’s day cruises. For the three-day cruise, Gaston has been the star chef and has done exceptionally well. This will be Juan’s first time solo.” Landon stood. “They’re getting ready to start. Give me your honest opinion after dinner is over. Excuse me for a moment while I introduce Juan and the team.”

* * *

“J
uan, it’s all yours. I’m confident you can do this,” Gaston encouraged before looking over the rest of the staff. Each member of the team stood in formation behind the partition, listening to Landon’s voice from the stage, while waiting for their cue.

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman and welcome to an evening of fine dining. My name is Landon Gray, the owner of
The Absolution
. I am delighted to have you as my guests. Chef Juan Carlos has a terrific meal planned for you, one that we’re certain you’ll remember for a long time to come. Chef comes to us from Bolero of London.” There was a murmur of approval from the crowd. “It appears many of you are familiar with the five star restaurant. It was Juan who took the eatery to a two-star Michelin rating in under three years. He is a phenomenal talent with an eclectic palate. Without further ado, please welcome Chef Juan Carlos and our team of chefs extraordinaire.”

Juan was the first to appear from behind the partition. He bowed at the crowd’s applause before lifting his arm, signaling to his staff. Three chefs, in immaculate starched white chef’s coats and hats, appeared from each side of the partition, streaming toward the center of the kitchen. Each balanced a domed silver tray on their extended hand. While in precise formation, the six team members lined up on both sides of Juan Carlos. Simultaneously, the chefs bowed to the guests. There was more applause.

“Good evening. It is an honor to be here. On behalf of my staff we welcome you.”

As Juan began the presentation, Landon made his way to the top row of seating to rejoin Brooke. He noticed that Gaston was sitting in the chair next to his. When he took his seat, he looked at his brother-in-law and whispered, “He’ll do great.” The chef merely looked at his friend before turning his attention toward Juan.

Landon was right. By the third course he had the guests eating out of his hand, literally. While preparing the main dish, an Isle of Gigha halibut and filet mignon infused with brandy, he invited a guest from the crowd to assist. A brunette, dressed in her finest, stood behind the counter wearing a white apron and helped to prepare the sauce for the fish. When it was time to taste, Juan held a spoon to the woman’s red lips. The chef’s face lit up with a smile when the woman literally moaned in delight at the taste.

He may have lacked the wit Gaston offered his guests, but Juan exuded a charming and charismatic presence, which wooed the audience.

When the last course was served, the crowd of diners stood, applauding the chef and his staff. While the star of the show made his way through the throng of guests thanking each one personally, Landon watched from the top row. He looked at Brooke and Gaston. “So what did you think?”

Answering first, Brooke gave both Landon and Gaston an enthusiastic smile. “I think he was fabulous. He’s definitely not Irish.”

Landon chuckled inwardly at the slightly bewildered expression on Gaston’s face. He had caught the look right before he suggested they have coffee in the Starboard Lounge.

When the three of them entered the elegant bar, Landon was met and detained by some of the diners who wished to thank him for the creative dining experience. Gaston escorted Brooke to a corner of the room with dark brown leather chairs. He motioned to one and waited for her to take her seat before taking his.

Immediately a waiter came by to take their drinks. When the employee left to place the order, Gaston looked at Brooke. “Landon took you to Dragonfly.” It was not a question but a statement. Unable to suppress the mirth that filled her eyes, he continued before she could respond. “He also told you about my view of the Irish and their cooking.”

Brooke nodded.

“You really aren’t Irish.”

The response brought forth a wonderful laugh. “I found Landon’s story about your opinions of Dragonfly and the Irish quite amusing. I could not resist teasing you. I hope you are not offended.”

Gaston simply smiled at Brooke, proof that he had not been piqued by her ribbing.

Realizing he was not upset, she added, “I would agree that the French have long set the standard for fine dining. It is difficult for many styles of cuisine to live up to the same level. Your food, Gaston, is incredible and I thoroughly enjoyed tonight’s meal; however I do not feel the dishes I had at Dragonfly were substandard. They may not have been the same caliber, but they were delicious in their own right.”

“So you do not think me to be a total cad?”

Laughing, Brooke replied, “Not at all. I think you have earned the right to be particular when it comes to food. I do not think less of you because of it.”

“Thank you. Here comes Landon. Do me a favor and let’s keep this revelation to ourselves, until I’ve had a chance to have some fun with it.”

“As long as you promise to fill me in on the details,” she countered.

Landon was standing close to Brooke, when he interjected, “What details?”

Gaston looked at his brother-in-law. “The changing of the guard for the dinner cruises. I will miss it, of course, but it is for the best. Juan did very well, much better than I anticipated.”

Landon wasn’t convinced of Gaston’s answer, but let it go. “I am also pleased and he will only get better. You’ve taught him well, leaving you more time for your family. Another example of Natasha getting what she wants.” For some reason he had been remembering the conversation he had with his sister shortly after Isabella’s birth: her desire to see him with children and her comment about how she always got what she wanted.

Brooke arched her eyebrows in question at the statement.

Affectionately, Landon clarified. “When I told Natasha about visiting Bolero and tasting Juan’s food, it was her idea for me to take Gaston to London so we could try and hire the chef to join our company, if her husband approved of him. It was her intention the whole time to ultimately have him take over Gaston’s position on the cruise. What my sister wants, she gets, but the things she desires are good and selfless.”