The Secret Ingredient (44 page)

‘I never should have gone out with the boss, I told you.' Andie pointed her finger and shook her head emphatically. ‘Big mistake, and Dominic Gerou does not tolerate mistakes.'

She had turned up on Jess's doorstep that afternoon with an armful of wine bottles and a resolution to get drunk. Jess had nothing against that, per se, but she had never seen Andie like this. She poured glass after glass and guzzled it down, railing against men, and chefs, and skanky women, and even heart attacks. Which was an odd thing to rail against. She hadn't fallen apart even after what Ross had done to her; Jess had waited for it, had even hoped she would so that she could be sure Andie had got him out of her system, but she'd remained strangely composed. Except for that day at the cemetery, and that had all been about Brendan. Because Andie loved her brother, fiercely. So what was all this about? Was she so heartbroken about this Dominic character, or was she finally letting go about everything? Maybe it was a bit of both.

‘If we weren't seeing each other,' Andie went on, slurring her words, ‘he would know nothing about me, he wouldn't know any of what was going on, and he wouldn't have fired me just for spoiling a batch of butter, for fuck's sake. It's only fucking butter! I even said I'd fucking pay for it!'

‘But did he actually fire you?' Jess asked, she was getting confused now. ‘I thought you said he told you just to take a few days —'

‘Same diff,' she muttered. ‘He was just being a coward.'

The whole thing didn't make sense to Jess, but she doubted she was going to get any sense from Andie tonight. She watched her splash more wine into her glass . . . and some onto the table, before she passed her the bottle. Jess poured just a mouthful into her own glass and then took the bottle to the kitchen. Andie wouldn't have realised it was still half full. Jess ran the tap as she tipped the rest out in the sink, and quietly slipped the one remaining bottle out of the fridge, hiding it in a cupboard.

‘What are you doing?' Andie called.

‘Just getting a cloth,' she said, coming back out of the kitchen and proceeding to wipe down the coffee table.

‘Oh, no, was that me?' said Andie. ‘I'm so sorry . . .' She started to sob. Oh God, here she goes. Andie was just not much of a drinker, she hardly ever got this bad; Jess could remember a couple of times when they were students, maybe once or twice afterwards, but not for years and years.

She lowered herself down onto the floor next to Andie and put her arm around her shoulders. ‘Now, come on, no point crying over spilled wine.'

Andie gave a tremulous sigh. ‘Bloody Ross, why did he have to go and get . . . athingy-mia in the first place? As if a twentysomething wants an old man with a heart-starter sticking out of his chest. What was he thinking?'

‘Well, I don't think he planned it.'

‘Why are you defending Ross?'

‘I'm not defending Ross.'

‘And you shouldn't either, because Ross can . . . he can go fuck himself.'

That was the other thing. Andie turned into a gutter-mouth when she'd had too much to drink.

‘Maybe I should get you to bed,' said Jess.

‘Why, I haven't got anything to get up for, I don't even have a lousy job any more.' The tears welled again. ‘Because my boyfriend fired me,' she cried. ‘What sort of a boyfriend does that?'

Jess got to her feet. ‘All right, I'm calling last drinks,' she said, snatching the glass out of Andie's hand. ‘You'll thank me tomorrow.'

Andie didn't argue with her, she just sat in a crumpled heap in the middle of the floor, sobbing quietly, defeated. Eventually Jess coaxed her into the bathroom, seizing the opportunity to quickly set up the sofa bed, in the hope that Andie would pretty much fall into it when she came out again. Which was exactly what she did. Jess got her to drink some water, and then she pulled the covers over her, and sat beside her, stroking her head, until she fell asleep. Jess glanced down at her now, she was out for the count. She didn't envy how Andie was going to feel in the morning. Hopefully she'd sleep the worst of it off. Jess got up off the sofa bed, switched off the light, and took herself off to her room.

Andie opened her eyes and blinked a few times to focus. She was at Jess's, she remembered now. She turned her head to look for the time, and that was when it hit her. Her brain swirled inside her head at the slightest movement, making her nauseous. She closed her eyes, but she wasn't fooling anyone. Oh dear God, what had she done to herself?

She heard a click as the front door lock released, and watched Jess creep in and close it again quietly behind her.

‘Hi,' Andie croaked.

She jumped. ‘Fuck, give me a heart attack, why don't you?'

‘Sorry.'

‘It's okay. How are you feeling?'

‘Don't ask.'

‘I brought you a hangover breakfast,' Jess said, waving a giant paper bag from one of the worst of the takeaway chains. ‘Full of greasy goodness!'

‘God bless you,' said Andie, struggling to sit up, and breaking out in a cold sweat as she did. ‘Oh, I don't know if I'm going to be able to stomach it.'

‘Oh, but you must!' Jess insisted, plonking down beside her.

‘Ugh, please be gentle,' Andie whimpered.

Jess laid out the food picnic-style across the bed. Andie picked up a bacon and egg burger concoction and bit into it gingerly.

‘Here,' said Jess, ‘wash it down with this.' She passed her an orange juice. ‘I'll make you a strong coffee after you get some food into you.'

‘Thanks.' She chewed slowly and eventually swallowed. Okay, that seemed to be staying down. ‘So how bad was I last night?'

‘On a scale of one to ten, around a forty-seven,' said Jess. ‘Lots of swearing, lots of “fucks” in particular. You sounded like me. You said Ross should go fuck himself.'

‘Maybe if he could, he wouldn't keep screwing with everyone else.'

‘Ha, look at that, you made a joke, despite your severe mental incapacity.'

‘Hm. I wonder just how many brain cells I managed to kill off?'

‘That's a myth, you know,' said Jess, chomping into her breakfast burger.

‘Is it?'

She nodded, swallowing. ‘I read it somewhere, I don't remember all the details, but I do remember that much – you cannot kill brain cells. Maybe you can shrink them, or disable them, but you can't kill the buggers.'

Andie sipped her juice. ‘I don't know, I don't even remember much after I got here.'

‘Do you remember what happened before you got here?'

She nodded. ‘Tasha left Ross, so now he's my responsibility.'

‘He really isn't.'

‘He really is,' said Andie. ‘I told you I'm still his wife, legally.'

‘Pffft, and I told
you
you should have put through those divorce papers.'

‘And I told
you
I couldn't,' she insisted. ‘Not for a year.'

‘We could have fudged the date, I would totally have signed off on that.'

‘Well, much as I appreciate that you'd perjure yourself for me, it's too late now,' she said.

Jess looked at her. ‘So what are you going to do?'

‘I'll have to talk to the kids, work out something,' she said. ‘I'm going to have to help out, I don't have the excuse of a job any more. Or a boyfriend. Or a life.'

Jess wiped her hands on a napkin and sat back, drawing her arm around her.

Andie leaned her head on her shoulder. ‘I went against my instincts again and again – give it time, wait until you've been on your own for a while, don't date the boss.' She sighed. ‘Now it's all blown up in my face and I've got no one to blame but myself.'

‘Well, I don't know about that,' said Jess. ‘I kind of egged you on.'

‘It's not your fault. What did you say to me? My body, my responsibility?' Andie lifted her head. ‘It just sucks so much,' she said. ‘I was really starting to get somewhere at work. I haven't seen you to tell you, but I was just put up to main meal prep. It was only a matter of time before I would actually be starting to cook – in a three-hatted restaurant! And now that's all over.'

‘What about Dominic?' Jess asked tentatively.

Andie stared out ahead. ‘I really liked him, I still really like him. But it doesn't matter, I've ruined it for good.'

‘You were blaming it all on him last night.'

‘Oh, he's certainly got issues, but it wasn't his fault. I shouldn't have kept my phone on me, and left the floor to take calls. It's against the rules, and I shouldn't have done it. I put him in a difficult position. And now I've lost him.'

Andie didn't want to admit how much he meant to her, and how she wished he'd fought for her. But he didn't, and that hurt her more than she could say.

Jess rubbed her arm. ‘Just promise me you won't go back to Ross.'

‘What?' Andie turned to look at her. ‘I'm heartbroken, alone, and unemployed . . . but I'm not desperate.'

‘And you're not unemployed. You own a shop, remember?'

‘So I do.'

Jess shifted to face her. ‘I know you're not in the mood to hear it now, but by the time the dust settles, we'll be up and running. I'm working on the menu right now.'

Andie gave her a weak smile. ‘I suppose you could use an extra pair of hands.'

‘Are you kidding?' she said, growing visibly more excited. ‘Do you know how much I would love to do this with you? We haven't worked together, not cooking anyway, in how long?'

‘Long.'

‘Remember we used to say we'd open our own restaurant one day? I know this isn't the same, but maybe it's the next best thing.'

That phrase was still echoing in Andie's head the next day. She had a feeling it was going to become her mantra, or was it motto? Perhaps it would be her eulogy – Andie didn't really get the life she wanted, but she got the next best thing.

Ross had developed his own mantra.

‘This is the first day of the rest of my life,' he said to Andie and Brooke when they brought him home to the apartment. ‘I'm not going to worry any more about what's happened in the past. I've got my life back. This is my second chance, and I'm not going to waste it.'

He'd been spouting platitudes like that since yesterday afternoon, after the doctors had run his device through its paces and given him a clean bill of health. Andie didn't know whether Ross was just delirious from the painkillers or what, but he seemed totally unfazed that his girlfriend had abandoned him and run up a bill of over ten thousand dollars on the same day, at least some of it while he was still under anaesthetic.

Brooke couldn't stay, so Andie was on duty until Matty came to take over this evening. They had worked out a roster between the three of them, and Joanna and Lauren were happy to be on standby. Ross didn't need someone with him 24/7 anyway, he could survive an hour or two at a time by himself. Andie had only one condition, she would not stay overnight. While she didn't have a choice about relaxing her rule never to step foot in the apartment again, she had to draw the line somewhere.

Andie made Ross a cup of tea, and brought it over to him. He had deposited himself in an armchair looking out at the view.

‘Sit with me?' he asked her.

She didn't have much else to do, so she might as well. She had to start planning how to make use of the time while she was here, or else she'd go batty. At the very least, she could use Ross's computer to keep up with the business side of things at the shop. She was prepared to give this two weeks, tops; if Ross still needed help after that, he could hire a nurse.

‘Look at this view,' Ross was saying. ‘I'd stopped noticing it. But you know, coming so close to death, you start to notice everything. It helps you work out what's important in life, Andie.'

She suppressed a yawn. Here he goes again.

‘It's a gift,' he went on. ‘I'll never look at things the same way again. I can't get even the slightest bit interested in work. Tony rang the other day – you remember Tony?'

‘Of course, Ross, you've worked together almost the entire time I've known you.'

He nodded. ‘So anyway, he was reassuring me about my various projects, and clients, and I really didn't care. Someone else is looking after them, and that's all right with me.'

‘Well, that's good,' said Andie. ‘You don't want to be stressing about work. When you're ready to go back, you'll have to find a way to ease into it slowly, maybe even part-time.'

He was shaking his head. ‘I don't know if I'll ever go back, Andie.'

She raised an eyebrow.

‘I was having a talk to the doctor about this. He agreed that my lifestyle might not be compatible with my medical condition, as he put it, that I should think about making some changes. I need to simplify my life.' He paused. ‘I'm thinking about moving to the country.'

‘Really?'

He looked at her. ‘Yes, really.'

‘What would you do in the country, Ross?'

‘Relax, get away from it all, live a simpler life.'

The man who couldn't wait to get out of the relative peace of the Shire for the inner city, who couldn't wait not to have a backyard any more.

‘Come with me, Andie,' Ross said suddenly.

‘Pardon?'

‘I'm serious. We could open up a little restaurant in the Southern Highlands, like we used to talk about. Remember how much we loved the Southern Highlands?'

‘We used to love the Southern Highlands,' she agreed. ‘We also used to love each other.'

‘I still love you,' he said.

She sighed. ‘Ross . . .'

‘And you still love me.'

She shook her head.

‘Admit it, Andie,' he persisted, leaning forward. ‘You rushed to my bedside as soon as you heard what happened. Why else would you do that?'

‘Obligation,' she said bluntly.

‘You don't have to be cruel.'

‘I'm not meaning to be cruel, Ross,' she said. ‘It was obligation, because I do care about you —'

‘See, you can't deny you still have feelings.'

‘I feel
for
you, Ross, there's a difference.'

‘It's enough to start over,' he said. ‘Think about it, Andie. This happened for a reason. You and I weren't even speaking, you were never going to set foot in this apartment again. And here you are. Can't you see this was meant to be?'

She didn't even know how to begin to respond to that. For a long time Andie had taken it for granted that she did still love Ross, on some level. She didn't know what it would feel like not to love him. But she knew now. She couldn't love him any more, this man, so full of swagger, so full of self-confidence that a mere heart attack could never have been the end of him. She was mildly surprised that she had loved him once, but then again, the sheer force of his personality had overwhelmed her. And Andie had been easily overwhelmed, back then.

‘How can you just turn your back on ten years?' he said, reaching over to cover her hand with his.

‘You were the one who turned your back, Ross,' said Andie. ‘You gave up on me long before I gave up on you.'

‘I was never serious about Tasha,' he dismissed. ‘Circumstances conspired to push us together, or else it never would have come to anything, I swear. And look what she turned out to be. I told you, didn't I, that she was unhinged . . .'

Had Andie really fallen for this kind of manipulation in the past? Back then she had called it ‘charm'. More fool her. She slipped her hand out from under his.

‘I'm not blaming you,' he said quickly. ‘I didn't mean it to sound that way. I'm just desperate, Andie. I've come to realise through all this that I love you more than anything —'

‘That's enough, Ross!' she said sharply, cutting him off. She wasn't going to be able to stand this for two weeks. ‘Can't you see that it's too late?'

‘It's never too late, darling.'

Another cliché. ‘Actually, sometimes it is too late, I don't even know why that's a saying.' She turned to look at him. ‘We're in different places now, Ross. I still want to be a chef, I even still want a baby, not that I expect that's ever going to happen. But the point is, I want so many things that aren't compatible with what you want or need in your life. And I certainly don't want to semi-retire in the country.'

‘We don't have to do that,' he insisted. ‘We can do anything you want.'

‘I want to do my own thing. I put my life on hold for you, Ross. I lived your life, not my own.'

‘Andie, I made a mistake. I'm not going to make it again. I'd be mad.'

‘Then you must be mad, because you've already made the same mistake twice. You left Joanna for me, then you left me for Tasha.' She stood up. ‘It's over, Ross. I don't want to talk about it again, and if you do keep talking about it, then I won't come here any more. Is that understood?'