The Secret Ingredient (28 page)

Andie fronted up for work the day after Boxing Day, feeling sad, and sentimental, but also a sense of peace as well. Her perspective had been radically altered, though she had to admit, largely for the better. She knew one thing for certain – a life shaped by regrets was half a life, if that. Her mother had a solid marriage, and children she obviously loved, but she wouldn't allow herself to get much joy out of any of it. Andie's marriage had failed, and she didn't see herself having a baby now, but she just couldn't let those regrets define her forever. She was lucky enough to find herself in her dream career, and she wasn't going to waste a minute of the opportunity. Even though it wasn't the career her mother had envisaged for her, Andie hoped it would still have made her proud.

So she was keen to get out of the house and back to work – though she was not so keen when she remembered she'd have to face Dominic . . . Chef . . . bloody hell, it was just going to be awkward and uncomfortable, or worse.

It had been stupid to have anything to do with her boss outside of work; this job was too important. Andie should have just said a polite no in the first place – better to have risked offending his ego ever so slightly than to have this hanging over her. With anyone else, working at the shelter together would have been a bonding experience, but the best Andie could hope for was that things would be as they were before, and they would have very little to do with each other.

As it turned out, she didn't lay eyes on him the entire first shift back at work, Cosmo and Tang ran both the lunch and dinner services. She wondered if Chef was sick, or had gone away . . . or maybe it was something more serious? He couldn't have left outright without there being some sort of announcement, surely?

When he hadn't appeared by halfway through the shift again the following day, Andie decided to ask Tang at her first opportunity. But she had to get the wording right, she didn't want it to seem like she was asking after Dominic, as such.

‘So you and Cosmo have had a promotion?' she said to Tang when he came by to collect the vegetables for garnish. ‘You're running the place now.'

He smiled at her. ‘It's only temporary. Chef's having a week off.'

There. Mystery solved. For the most part. Was it a holiday? Was he visiting family? Was he unwell? Was it any of her business?

Andie put it out of her mind and got on with her week, relieved she had been given a reprieve for now. The restaurant was open on New Year's Eve, and she was more than happy to spend it working . . . and thus avoid the whole dilemma about what to do on New Year's Eve. It had always been a romantic night for her and Ross. They didn't get invited to many parties in the beginning, as a new couple they didn't really fit in with old groups of friends. So they made it a special night for just the two of them. They had watched the fireworks from a suite overlooking Sydney Harbour, relaxed in a luxurious spa retreat in Byron Bay, they had even flown to New York one year. But even the years they spent at home were special; they had each other, they didn't need to be at a big party with lots of people. Though that was exactly what they had done last year, as it turned out. Ross accepted an invitation to some swanky corporate soirée, and though Andie objected, he said it might be fun for a change. It wasn't, Andie had never been so bored in her life. She kept hinting at Ross to leave and he'd say ‘Soon', but they didn't end up getting home until nearly 3 am. It had been her worst New Year's Eve ever, and she had no intention of topping it this year.

Working was by far the best antidote for whatever emotions threatened to surface on the night, especially as they were flat chat the whole time. They only had one sitting for dinner, serving a special degustation menu which carried the diners through to midnight. Andie was given more responsibility, with some of the regular staff on leave; she even got to actually help assemble the
amuse-bouche
– tiny butter puff pastries topped with a single, perfect scallop poached in white wine with lemon and dill. It was as close to plating up as Andie had ever been, and she couldn't believe the thrill it gave her. She worked on New Year's Day as well; again the restaurant only offered one sitting, at lunch, but it was a huge seafood-based feast this time. Chef was still away, and Andie had put the whole thing to the back of her mind, she was so immersed in her work. So she was startled when he turned up on the second day of January – literally startled, because she bumped right into him as she was carrying a large rack of bread across the kitchen.

‘Hello, Andie,' he said, with a slight bow of his head.

‘Chef,' she nodded. ‘You're back.'

‘I am.'

They stood for a moment longer, in awkward silence, till Andie finally excused herself. ‘I best get on with it.'

‘Of course.' He moved out of her way. ‘Andie,' he called after her.

She looked back.

‘Happy New Year.'

She felt her face go hot. ‘Same to you, Chef.'

At least he didn't seem angry or pissed at her. Maybe all her worrying had been for nothing, and he was going to pretend it had never happened? That suited Andie just fine.

At the end of the shift, she was cleaning her work station after most of the staff had gone for the night. Andie tended to be one of the last to leave; she took her time, she was never in much of a hurry to get back to the house. She heard someone clearing his throat behind her and she looked around. Dominic was standing at the end of the bench, watching her.

‘Oh, you gave me a start,' she said, her heart pounding.

‘Sorry, I didn't mean to.'

‘Is there something you need?'

He hesitated. ‘Could I speak with you for a moment, Andie? I won't hold you up long.'

‘Okay.' What was this about? She had a bad feeling.

‘Do you mind?' he said, indicating the doors to the restaurant. ‘We can talk in there.'

‘Sure.' He walked ahead, and Andie followed him. Bugger, was he going to give her the sack or something? Because he felt awkward around her now? That hardly seemed fair. She hadn't done anything wrong; she had as much right to volunteer at the shelter as he did, and he was the one who had asked her to go for a drink anyway, and he was the one who had started asking personal questions, and making outrageous assumptions. So she had walked out. All right, maybe that was a bit of an overreaction on her part, maybe he hadn't said anything all that outrageous. But she'd taken her leave politely, and he wasn't bloody royalty. How could that be a sackable offence?

It didn't have to be. When you were employed on a contract basis, a boss only had to take a dislike to you, or decide he felt awkward around you, or that he just didn't like the cut of your jib for whatever arbitrary reason, and he was under no obligation to renew your contract the next time around. Right now Chef could say she wasn't working out, and as her contract was up in a couple of months, maybe she should start looking around . . . There was no use fighting it, or she'd never get a job anywhere else. He had all the power, Andie had none. She was best to take it gracefully and hope he'd at least give her a reasonable reference.

She followed him into the main room of the restaurant. The tables were stripped, the chairs stacked on top of them, ready for the cleaners in the morning. She waited as he turned over a couple of chairs and set them down on the floor, then indicated for her to take a seat. Andie felt vaguely nauseous as she stepped forward and sat down.

‘Can I get you a drink, or anything?' he asked.

She looked up at him. ‘Look, Chef, if you're going to fire me, I'd rather you just cut to the chase.'

‘I'm sorry?' he said, as though he wasn't following her. It was clearly an act. ‘I'm not going to fire you.'

‘Yeah, okay, you can't actually fire me,' she said. ‘But you're letting me know you're not going to renew my contract, right? And you're going to suggest I start looking around for alternatives. It's the same difference.' So much for taking it gracefully.

‘Andie, I have no idea what you're talking about,' he said. ‘Your position here is perfectly safe.'

She was instantly relieved, and then instantly confused. ‘Then what's this about?'

He breathed out. ‘May I sit?'

Why was he asking her? She nodded.

He sat down opposite her. Andie would have preferred to have the table between them, some kind of barrier, but he'd placed the chairs at the end of the table, facing each other.

‘What this is about . . .' Dominic began hesitantly. He seemed nervous again, like when he asked her for a drink. And that made Andie nervous.

‘I wanted to apologise,' he said finally, ‘for the other day, after the Christmas lunch. For the things I said.'

She hadn't seen that coming. ‘There's no need to apologise.'

‘Yes there is,' he said. ‘I upset you, not that I meant to, I was only trying to make conversation.' He paused, he seemed to be thinking about what to say next. ‘I'm not very good at this. It's been a long time for me.'

What has? Making conversation?

‘When you showed up at the shelter like that, out of the blue, well, it felt like an opportunity was presenting itself . . .'

What was he talking about?

‘Sometimes you think these things are meant to be, but I don't know. I don't know if I even believe in fate.' He became lost in thought for a moment. ‘But anyhow, I stuffed it up entirely,' he went on. ‘I don't have to tell you that, you were there. I offended you somehow, and that was the last thing I intended. And, so . . . well, I'd like to make it up to you.'

What?

‘You don't have to do that,' Andie said, feeling uneasy.

‘But I want to,' he said quickly. ‘What I mean is, what I'm asking is . . . I'd like to know . . . if you would like to go out . . . sometime?'

Her throat went dry. ‘What?' she croaked. ‘You want to go out . . . with me?'

‘Yes,' he said quietly.

Andie would have been less surprised if he had sacked her. ‘Why?'

‘I'm sorry?'

‘Why do you want to go out with me?'

He looked perplexed. ‘I'm not sure what you're asking.'

‘It's not that difficult,' she said. ‘You don't seem to like me very much. You hardly know me. I don't understand why you want to go out with me. If it's just to make up for upsetting me —'

‘No, it's not just that,' he assured her.

But then he didn't offer anything else.

‘Well, I don't get it,' said Andie, folding her arms.

He stared down at his hands for a moment, clasping and unclasping them. Finally he looked up at her. ‘I'm sorry you think that I don't like you,' he said. ‘I'm sorry if I've given you that impression. I said I'm not very good at this.'

‘That doesn't answer my question,' she muttered.

‘I'm attracted to you,' he said bluntly.

Andie just stared at him.

‘You're a very attractive woman, Andie. I can't be the first man to have told you that.'

She sighed. ‘No, you're not,' she said, her heart sinking. ‘And if you're trying to flatter me, sorry, but it's not going to work.' She got to her feet. ‘I didn't do anything to look like this, it's not an achievement, and it hasn't done me any favours. I seem to “attract” men who want some kind of trophy, and they get bored with me eventually and dump me . . . sometimes they even break my heart.' She swallowed. ‘So if attraction is all you've got, it's not enough. Thanks anyway.'

She started for the door.

‘Andie, wait,' said Dominic. ‘Please.'

She stopped, but she didn't turn around. She felt embarrassed, and self-conscious, and, weirdly, a vague feeling of disappointment.

‘When you first showed up at the restaurant,' he said, ‘I thought you were a pretty face and not much more, it's true. Especially the way you ran out that night. But you surprised me when you came back. And you've kept surprising me ever since, by how hard you work, how determined you've been. I noticed, I know I don't mix much with the staff, but I noticed. And then you turned up at the shelter, and you surprised me again.' He took a breath. ‘I think there's a lot more to you than just a pretty face, and I would like the chance to get to know you better.' There was a long pause. ‘Andie,' he said, ‘please turn around.'

She did as he asked, slowly turning to face him again, though she couldn't actually look at him.

‘Do you remember when you asked me for a second chance?' he went on. ‘You said you weren't prepared the first time. It was the same for me. I wasn't prepared when you turned up at the shelter, and I screwed up. So now I'm asking you for a second chance.'

Andie stood there, trying to breathe normally, while her heart nearly pummelled its way out of her rib cage. He was asking her out on a date? Was this for real?