The Secret Ingredient (26 page)

She glanced at his drink, a long glass of soda and something. ‘So, vodka drinker?'

‘I'm sorry?'

‘I'm guessing it's vodka in that soda,' she explained. ‘It doesn't agree with me so much these days, I tend to stick to wine. But vodka and I had some very good times together, back in my twenties —'

‘It's just a club soda,' he said, his expression clouding over.

‘Oh, you're not having a drink?' she stammered.

‘I am, it just doesn't have any alcohol in it,' he said. ‘I have to drive home.'

Andie wondered if her face had gone red; she decided it must have, because his next question was, ‘Are you driving?'

She swallowed. ‘Yes, but I'll only have this one.'

Yeesh, he looked so . . . disapproving.

‘We could go for coffee, if you'd rather?' she offered.

‘No, we're here now,' he said. ‘I'm sure you won't be over the limit after one glass of wine.'

It sounded like he was trying to reassure himself. At least she had an excuse now to call it a night after one drink. Captain Temperance here would obviously be more than okay with that.

‘So . . .' she said, desperately searching for something to say to lighten the mood. And fill in the silence. Why did the man ask her for a drink when he didn't want to drink, and he didn't even seem to have much to say? Why did everything about this have to be weird and uncomfortable?

‘How are you enjoying working at the restaurant?' Dominic asked.

‘Very much.' Andie was relieved. Work should be a safe topic. ‘Everyone's so nice, and helpful.'

He nodded. ‘You're doing well, Tang and Cosmo both have good things to say about you.'

‘Oh, that's nice.'

Couldn't she think of another word than ‘nice'? Hold on, what was that he just said? They reported to him about her? He was interested?

‘They're both such great guys,' said Andie.

Great guys? She sounded like a teenage girl. They were her superiors, her mentors, they were professionals, not ‘great guys'. Well, they were great guys, but . . . Why wasn't he saying anything? Because he thought she was a twit probably. God, this was some kind of endurance test. Andie took another gulp of her wine. Keep talking about work, say something intelligent, or at least sensible . . . even fawning would do.

‘I haven't had a chance to thank you,' she said.

‘That isn't necessary,' said Dominic. ‘I was only concerned you were all right, that he wasn't bothering you.'

What was he talking about? ‘No one's bothering me,' she assured him. ‘Like I said, everyone's been great.'

‘Oh . . .' He looked slightly thrown. ‘What were you thanking me for?'

‘For the second chance,' she explained. ‘For giving me another trial.'

‘Of course,' he nodded.

‘What did you think I was talking about?'

He shrugged. ‘Nothing, it doesn't matter.' He picked up his glass and took a drink. ‘It's none of my business anyway.'

Then it hit Andie. He thought she was referring to the scene in the carpark with Ross.

‘Oh, of course, I do want to thank you for that as well,' she said. ‘You know, what happened, that night, with my husband . . . my ex-husband.'

‘It isn't necessary, really,' he said, staring down at the table again.

This strain between them was such a . . . a
strain
. Andie didn't think she could take much more of this. She decided to be more upfront.

‘No,' she said firmly, ‘I think it is necessary. I should apologise for bringing my private life to work like that.'

He met her gaze then. ‘You didn't bring it, it seemed to me it came looking for you.'

‘Hm,' she nodded. ‘Ross, my ex, well, he's not my ex yet . . .'

‘Oh?'

‘Only a matter of time,' she dismissed. ‘It's in the hands of the lawyers as we speak. Well, probably not as we speak, it is Christmas Day after all.'

She smiled, but he didn't. She probably shouldn't make jokes about a pending divorce. Another faux pas. Andie wondered if he was keeping count.

‘Anyway,' she went on, ‘the thing is, Ross showed up that night because he was upset I'd been to a lawyer. He'd been hoping it wouldn't come to that.'

‘It's really none of my business,' said Dominic.

Fine.

‘So you're the one ending it?' he asked.

And now it was his business.

‘In a manner of speaking,' said Andie. ‘I'm ending it because he had an affair. Is still having an affair, as far as I know.'

He looked faintly embarrassed. Too much information for him? God, she had no idea what to do with this conversation.

‘I'm sorry,' he said finally.

‘What for?' Andie wasn't following him.

He hesitated. ‘Well . . . for your loss, I suppose,' he said. ‘I'm not sure how to put it.'

‘Oh, thanks.'

‘Were you happy?' he asked.

‘I thought we were.'

‘No, I asked if
you
were happy.'

She looked at him. ‘Sure. I thought we'd be together forever.'

‘So you have no idea why he decided to have an affair?'

She shrugged. ‘Why does any man?'

‘Or woman. I don't think it's gender-exclusive.'

‘Still, I think men may have the jump on it, statistically,' Andie said wryly.

‘Not any more. Statistically, women are catching up.'

What? Did he make a study of this?

‘So you really don't know why your husband had an affair?' said Dominic, returning to his original question.

‘No, I don't,' she said tightly. She didn't like his tone. ‘What are you implying?'

He looked abashed. ‘Nothing, it's none of my business.'

No, it wasn't.

‘Only, I was wondering what you think about the theory that an affair is only likely to happen in a marriage that's already troubled?'

She glared at him. ‘What exactly are you trying to say?'

‘Nothing, really,' he said. ‘I didn't mean anything by it.'

‘You think it was my fault somehow?'

‘No —'

‘Look, you can say whatever you like to me at work where you're the boss,' said Andie, flustered. ‘But I don't think you have the right to ask me out for a drink and then . . . insult me.'

‘That wasn't my intention, I assure you,' he said.

She felt like sculling the rest of her wine, but she wouldn't give him any more ammunition against her. So she took a sedate sip and pushed her glass aside, standing up.

‘I have to go, thanks for the drink,' she said, picking up her bag and heading for the exit. She felt rattled, and embarrassed. Why would he jump to the conclusion that there was something wrong with her marriage? And why did that bother her?

He caught up to her at the door and held it open as she strode out past him.

‘Andie, wait,' he said, stepping out onto the footpath.

She turned around, but fixed her gaze down the street, away from him. He didn't say anything, so after a while Andie stole a glance at him. He was just standing there looking bewildered.

‘Look, I really do have to go,' she said.

He stirred. ‘Can I walk you to your car?'

‘No, I'll be fine.' She could not figure him out. ‘Thanks again for the drink.' She turned on her heel and started down the street, in the opposite direction they had come from. She'd have to retrace her steps later, but that was preferable to spending any more time in his company. What an arrogant, opinionated prig he'd turned out to be . . . wait, he'd always been.

When she finally made it back to her car, Andie took out her phone and texted Jess to see where she was. She didn't want to go home to the empty house and sit there stewing about this, which she knew she would. She was hoping things might have wrapped up for Jess and they could meet for a drink.

Her phone eventually beeped in response, and she picked it up off the passenger seat to read the message.

Still @ mums! Come rescue me!

Jess had apparently been drinking since late morning, so she was in no state to drive herself home, and she had Buckley's of getting a cab, deep in suburban Concord on Christmas Day. It was looking like she was going to have to stay the night, so Andie's message came at the right time. Jess gave her strict instructions not to enter the premises, as she may never make it out again. Andie was worried that might seem rude, but Jess reassured her that no one would even notice, that she should just prank her phone when she arrived, and Jess would come out.

‘So how was your day?' asked Andie as they drove away down the street.

‘Oh, the usual, too much food, way too much Christmas cheer. I'm all familied out,' she groaned, throwing her head back. ‘Who invented families, honestly? We should all be born in pods, like in that movie . . . with that guy . . . oh, you know the one, he has absolutely no expression, his face is a blank.'

‘
The Matrix
,' said Andie.

‘Yeah, but what's his name again?'

‘Keanu Reeves.'

‘That's it.' She seemed relieved. ‘So what were we talking about?'

Andie glanced at her with a smile. ‘I have no idea.'

Jess smiled back. ‘So, tell me, how did it go at the shelter?'

‘It was great, really,' she said. ‘I'm so glad I did it, thanks for giving me the push.'

‘Pleasure,' she slurred.

‘A funny thing happened, though.'

‘Oh?'

‘Guess who showed up there today?'

‘Not Ross!' Jess exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.

‘No,' Andie scoffed. ‘As if Ross would set foot in a place like that. No, it was my boss, Dominic Gerou.'

‘Seriously?'

Andie nodded.

‘What was he doing there? Not looking for a feed, I hope?'

That made her laugh. ‘No, he was volunteering as well. Apparently he's been doing it for years.'

‘Hm . . . small world,' Jess murmured sleepily.

Andie was beginning to wonder if she'd have company tonight after all. ‘Where do you want to go, Jess?'

‘Oh, just home,' she said. ‘I have all those leftovers Mum gave me. We'll be all set.'

Andie couldn't get much out of Jess for the rest of the drive back to her flat, she dozed most of the way. Maybe she would have to go home by herself after all, it was no less depressing an option than bunking down at Jess's place if she was only going to crash as soon as they got there. But Andie couldn't help feeling disappointed. She wanted to talk to Jess about what happened today. She knew exactly what she'd say – that Dominic was an arrogant wanker and she should just ignore him – but Andie needed to hear her say it. Fortunately, Jess seemed to get a second wind from the car to her flat, and once inside she buzzed around the tiny kitchen, putting out leftovers and opening wine.

‘So, you know how I was telling you that my boss was there today?' Andie began.

‘Yep.'

‘Well, he asked me out for a drink afterwards.'

Jess turned to look at her. ‘He asked you out? And you didn't go?'

‘No, I did go.'

‘Then how are you here now?'

‘We only had one drink. I didn't even finish mine,' said Andie.

‘Why, what happened?'

‘He's just so arrogant,' she said, feeling her hackles rise again.

‘He's a chef,' Jess shrugged, like that was a given.

‘He asked me out for a drink, and then all he did was lecture me.'

‘About your job?'

‘No, no, that's all fine.' Though how she was going to face him at work again, she had no idea. ‘We got to talking about my marriage break-up . . . breakdown . . . ups and downs.'

Jess frowned as she passed Andie a glass of wine. ‘What on earth made you go into that murky territory?'

‘I was thanking him for the way he stepped in when Ross showed up at work that night.'

‘What the hell?' Jess looked shocked.

‘Didn't I tell you about that?'

‘Tell me about what?'

‘It's not a big deal,' Andie dismissed. ‘It was a few weeks ago now. Ross waited in the carpark after work to talk to me, because I hadn't been answering his calls. Anyway, Dominic happened to come out of the restaurant just as Ross was getting a little . . . worked up.'

‘What was he doing?' Jess's voice rose along with her heightened imagination.

‘Nothing, honestly. I thought I told you all this?'

‘No,' she said airily, ‘you never tell me anything any more.'

Andie ignored that. ‘Back to today . . .'

‘So you're really not going to tell me what happened with Ross?'

‘It's not important. In fact, I haven't even seen him since then —' It was true, she realised as she said it. He'd finally got the hint and backed off – for good, Andie hoped. ‘It's all in the hands of the lawyers now.'