The Secret Ingredient (23 page)

Andie looked at her. ‘I just want to get through the sale of this house – one legal hurdle at a time.'

‘You do realise that Ross will have a stake in this too?'

Andie frowned. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘Ross will be entitled to a share of your inheritance.'

‘No . . .'

‘Yes.'

‘But he wouldn't go after it,' said Andie. ‘He's got more class than that.'

‘What about Tasha?'

‘Who's Tasha?' asked Donna.

‘The skank.'

‘Don't call her that,' said Andie.

‘Why do you keep saying that?' asked Jess.

‘Because we don't know what she's like.'

‘That's absolutely true, Andie, she might be Mother Teresa reincarnated, or she might be out for everything she can get her hands on. You don't know. Besides, any family lawyer worth his salt is going to tell Ross he's entitled to a share of your assets as well.'

‘But that's not fair.'

‘That's why you need to see your own lawyer. If you don't want a share of any of the marital assets, at least protect your own.'

‘Okay, I take your point.'

‘And while you're at it,' said Jess, ‘you might want to protect your friends' jobs? If you just give up everything, we could all be tossed out on our ears.'

Donna spluttered on her wine.

‘The shop is in my name, I'm sure Ross can't do anything without my say-so,' Andie reassured Donna. ‘But you're right, Jess. I'll make an appointment to see a lawyer.'

‘Can we drink to that? Sign something in chicken blood, perhaps?' Jess suggested hopefully.

Andie held up a whole filleted chicken with a triumphant smile. ‘What do you think?'

‘Perfect,' Jess pronounced. ‘But honestly, Andie, this chicken smell is beginning to make me gag. You don't have to finish all twelve tonight, have another practice run tomorrow.'

‘Of course. Let me just clean all this up, and would you pour me a glass of wine please, Donna? You two better have some good gossip for me, because seriously, I want to talk about something,
anything
else but me!'

‘All right,' said Jess. ‘I've got something. I'm thinking of getting a Brazilian.'

Andie looked up from wrapping the chicken, and Donna turned around from the fridge. ‘What?' they said in unison.

Jess shrugged. ‘They're the new black.'

‘When have you ever been one to slavishly follow the latest trend?' Andie frowned.

‘I'm just sick of guys commenting about it all the time.'

‘What kinds of comments?' asked Donna, as she topped up Jess's glass.

‘Whenever you hook up with a guy these days, as soon as he . . . comes into contact, he has to make some kind of remark.'

‘Like what?' Andie wanted to know.

‘Oh, like . . . so you go natural? Wow, that's old-school, or brave. Or, are you a hippy? Through to, hey, ever thought of tidying up down there?'

Andie was vigorously wiping down the table. ‘That just makes me want to spit!'

‘Me too,' said Donna.

‘I mean, who decided we have to look like little girls? I think it's demeaning.'

‘Some women do it for themselves,' said Jess. ‘I've been asking around. They like the feel of it, that it's all clean and fresh.'

Donna frowned. ‘But isn't the whole reason we have hair got to do with catching bacteria so it doesn't get into the wrong places?'

‘But we don't mind ripping it out from under our arms, now, do we?' said Jess.

‘Look, if you really want to do this for yourself, Jess, go right ahead,' said Andie. ‘But I wish you didn't feel the need to do it to attract men.'

‘You know what they say about beggars and choosers.'

‘You're not a beggar!' Donna exclaimed.

‘In this marketplace I am. Thirtysomething women are passed over all the time for younger models.'

‘God, I'm glad I'm married.'

Andie had finished washing her hands and sat down to join them.

‘Sorry, that was a bit insensitive,' said Donna, with a sheepish look.

‘Why?'

‘Because . . . you know, your marriage has just . . .'

‘Collapsed?'

‘Failed, broken down . . . died in the bum?' Jess added.

Andie smiled. ‘It's okay, Donna.'

‘Well, you're not going to be alone for long,' said Donna.

‘Believe me, the last thing I need is a relationship right now.'

‘Why is that?'

Andie took a sip of her wine. ‘Let's just say I'm not ready to get a Brazilian.'

Andie slipped off her chef's jacket and tossed it into the hamper in the corner of the change room. That was a nice little perk of the job – the jackets were all professionally laundered, returning for the next shift clean, pressed and neatly folded. She was beginning to feel like she belonged now, after nearly two months. Her trial period lasted a couple of weeks, before Tang informed her she had been approved to stay on. Andie was thrilled. She was welcomed as a bonafide member of the crew, she even stayed back regularly for staffy's on Sunday nights; with the restaurant closed for business on Mondays it was the end of their working week and the staff always stayed on for drinks. Tang could not have been lovelier, and had taken her under his wing without making a single comment about her sudden departure, or her equally sudden reappearance. He and Cosmo were the senior sous chefs at Viande and, in reality, Andie worked for them. Dominic Gerou barely even spoke to her, but she had no reason to take that personally. While the staff all seemed to respect him, even hold him in high regard, they told Andie he rarely mixed with them socially – he never joined them for staffy's, even though he supplied the drinks. He had acknowledged Andie on her first night back with a brisk greeting, and had later given a nod of approval after she expertly deboned a chicken as he watched on. She'd hardly had anything to do with him since.

She was way below his radar anyway – still relegated to the ranks of the apprentices in the bread and salad section – but Andie didn't mind. She was finally working in a real kitchen, talking about food, learning about food. And she was learning so much. Bread and salad was not as basic as it sounded, at least not in a kitchen like this. Andie was all over the bread, given it had been a longstanding specialty at The Corner Gourmet. But the vegetables were a whole new world – the variety of salad greens, heirloom carrots ranging from creamy white through yellow to purple, potatoes similarly in every colour, turnips and radishes sliced into wafer-thin discs for garnish, ribbons of celeriac . . . Andie was given plenty of opportunity to observe Tang or Cosmo as they prepped dishes and plated up, using long Japanese tweezers to place the delicate garnishes in their precise positions. Each and every plate, more than two hundred a night, was a miniature work of art. Andie wondered if the diners appreciated the level of care and attention that went into presenting their food, as much as they enjoyed the taste. But she had a feeling it wouldn't have mattered to the chefs anyway, they had their own meticulous standards to meet. Although she wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the pass for some time yet, Andie found it inspirational. She worked hard, trying to take the same care with every task she was given. And she was getting faster all the time, and building muscles in her arms from lifting racks and heavy pans. Her legs ached after every shift, but she fell into bed at night and slept more soundly than she had in a long time. Andie was happy, she didn't need Dominic Gerou's approval, she'd only needed him to give her a job, and he'd already done that.

Though every now and then, she got the feeling she was being watched, and she would look up to find him staring in her direction, from right across the other side of the kitchen. He always quickly turned away, and Andie assumed he was probably just staring into space, or looking at something else entirely.

She picked up her cardigan from her locker and slipped it on over her T-shirt. The evenings were still cool, even though summer was supposed to have officially begun. Andie slung her bag over her shoulder and walked up the corridor, pushing on the metal rail to release the exit door. As the cool night air hit her, she drew her cardigan more closely around her. She started across the carpark when she heard her name called. She turned to see Ross coming towards her.

‘What are you doing here?' she asked him.

‘I wanted to talk to you.'

‘Why didn't you just call?'

‘Because you don't pick up when I call,' he said bluntly, stopping in front of her.

Andie hadn't seen him since the night at the house, and she had only spoken to him that one time. After that low point she had decided not to bother answering his calls any more, and she assumed he'd finally given up.

She crossed her arms. ‘How did you know to find me here?'

‘Brooke told me you were working here again,' he said. ‘And I think it's great, Andie. I'm so proud of you.'

Whoopee. That was supposed to mean something to her? ‘Look, I've had a long night, Ross, and it's cold out here.'

‘Then let's go somewhere we can talk.'

Andie groaned. Better to just get it over with. ‘What do you want, Ross?'

He sighed, pushing his hands down into his pockets. He looked tired, he was beginning to show his age.

‘My lawyer received a letter from your lawyer,' he said.

She nodded. ‘I went to see someone to find out what I have to do —'

‘Find out what you have to do?' he sniped. ‘How about talk to your husband before you go to a lawyer?'

‘Ross,' she sighed, ‘what's your actual problem here? Don't you want to be a free man?'

‘No, where did you get that idea? When did I ever say that?'

‘Oh, so you want to carry on an affair and stay married, is that it?'

‘No, not at all. I want my marriage back, and I'll do whatever it takes.'

Andie looked at him. ‘Are you still seeing her, Ross?'

He hesitated. ‘That's beside the point —'

‘No, it isn't,' she exclaimed. ‘It's the whole point!'

‘Well, if the affair is the whole point, and I end it, then there is no point resorting to lawyers.'

Andie shook her head. ‘I can't deal with this right now,' she said wearily, turning to leave.

‘Wait.' He grabbed her arm. ‘Don't just walk away.'

‘Ross, let go of me.'

‘Andie . . . are you all right?'

They both looked around. Dominic Gerou was taking halting steps towards them.

‘She's fine,' said Ross, releasing her arm. ‘It's none of your concern, mate.'

‘Andie,' Dominic said again, ‘are you all right?'

She couldn't recall him ever saying her name out loud before, she was surprised he remembered it. He stepped into a pool of light, his gaze focused steadily on her, ignoring Ross.

‘Mate, I said —'

‘Ross!' Andie cut him off. ‘Thanks, Chef, I'm okay.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Listen,' said Ross, ‘I don't know who you think you are, but I'm her husband.'

‘This is my boss,' Andie said firmly.

‘It's Dominic out here.'

Andie nodded. ‘Thank you, Dominic. I'll be fine.'

‘Would you like me to walk you to your car?'

‘Oh come on —'

‘Ross, for crying out loud, would you just shut up!' Andie snapped.

He shrank back at that, finally, bowing his head.

Dominic nodded. ‘Looks like you can handle yourself. Goodnight, Andie.'

‘Thanks again.' Her voice trailed after him as he walked away back across the carpark. Great, playing out her own little soap opera in front of the boss outside her place of work. And sounding like a piece of trailer trash in the process. Very professional, Andie, well done.

‘Wanker.'

‘Christ, Ross,' she exclaimed, striding off towards her car. She could hear his footsteps following behind her.

‘Andie, wait,' he said. ‘We still have to talk about this.'

‘I don't have to talk to you, Ross. Especially when you carry on like a complete Neanderthal.'

‘I'm sorry, okay?' he said dramatically, holding his arms out wide. ‘I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.'

She reached her car and turned around. ‘You could try leaving me alone.'

‘So this is how it's going to be?' he said. ‘Communicating through our lawyers, ending everything because of one mistake?'

‘Not this again,' she sighed. ‘Ross, it wasn't one mistake, it was a constant stream of lies with no end in sight. You know, I was actually worried about you that night when you drove off drunk.'

‘See, so you do have feelings for me.'

He was shameless. He was utterly and completely without shame. ‘Don't worry, Ross, any feelings I may have had are rapidly diminishing by the minute.'

He was shaking his head. ‘I really didn't think you were this kind of person, Andie. That you would throw away our whole marriage at the first sign of any trouble.'

‘No, Ross, you were the one who did that.'

‘I don't want to throw away the marriage,' he said. ‘I want to work on it.'

She looked at him. ‘So working on it means going back to that woman when I won't obediently fall straight back into your arms?'

‘Look, it's nothing, it's a fling, it's not going anywhere. I could end it tomorrow.'

‘So end it,' she said. ‘Once and for all.'

‘I will, if you'll say you're coming back.'

‘No, Ross, that's not how it works,' said Andie. ‘You end it, and then you prove to me over time that you're prepared to work on the marriage.'

‘How can I prove that?'

‘Live alone.'

‘I am living alone, I haven't moved in with her.'

‘And how many nights do you spend in the apartment by yourself?'

He didn't have an answer for that.

‘Well, at least you're not lying, that's something.'

‘Andie, I'll do whatever it takes.'

‘It's not enough, Ross. I can't trust you, and I've lost so much respect for you now that there's nothing left.'

He stared at her. ‘So that's it? You're just going to leave it to the lawyers.'

‘I think it's best if we cut our losses and move on.'

He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. ‘So, you're planning to take me to the cleaners, is that it, Andie?'

‘What? No.'

‘Your lawyer is asking for full financial disclosure. He wants complete records of all my investments, my —'

‘Ross, I don't care about any of that,' she stopped him. ‘I don't want anything, except the shop, and that's mine anyway. I'll be getting a share of my father's estate, that's enough for me, as long as you don't expect a cut of it.'

‘Of course I wouldn't expect that,' he said, wounded. ‘I wouldn't take your father's money from you. How could you think I would do that?'

Andie sighed. ‘Well, what do you know, you do have a shred of decency left in you.'

‘I have more than that, Andie. I still love you.'

‘It's too late, Ross.'

He looked down at the ground, shaking his head. ‘I can't believe this is happening.'

Andie took her keys out of her bag and pressed the remote lock. ‘I'll call my lawyer and get him to draw up an agreement that will protect the shop and my inheritance. And I'll withdraw all other claims on you. All right?' She opened the car door.

‘I don't want it to be like this, Andie.'

‘Well, you should have thought about that before . . .'

What was the point in even finishing the sentence? She stepped into the car and closed the door. He stood there, looking forlorn, as she started the car and drove away.