HungryforMore




The best kitchen, the best ingredients, and the best recipes are nothing without inspiration.

—JAMES LACHANCE, The Meal of a Lifetime

Chapter 18


Roni popped another pill in her mouth. What a night this was going to be. It was her first day back at Les Fleurs since the con had begun, and everything felt different—more sinister, as if everyone had a dark secret like the one she was harboring. She was even nervous around Stu. What if Amy had told everyone about the voice? What if Stu asked her who his One True Love was? She was so nervous, she kept forgetting his wife’s name. Karen? Carol?
She sank onto a stack of lettuce crates near the door of the walk-in and tried to breathe. She had come straight to Les Fleurs without even seeing Troy, and that made her nervous, too. She should have waited one more day so that she could see him after school and before work. But she was so anxious to get this over with, she couldn’t wait.

Amy, I hear the voice; it’s coming to me. Your One True Love’s name is . . . Aaron? No. That wasn’t it. Axel?

Her hands were going to shake right off her arms. She wasn’t going to be able to pull this off.
“Hi, Roni.” James stood at the door to the walk-in, his arms crossed in front of him. “Welcome back.”
James was shocked by how uptight and wrung out his waitress seemed. Roni nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw him. Was Amy right? Was James that terrifying to his staff? His server was trembling at just the sight of him. She must think he was going to fire her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her hands. She looked like she had palsy. “You okay?”
Roni put her shaking hands behind her back. “Fine. Sorry for splitting. Sorry—”
“No problem. Your job’s waiting for you. You always have a place here.” How was she going to wait tables with those hands?
She brought her hands in front of her and clenched them, gripping her right hand with her left, but it didn’t help the shaking. “Thanks . . . er . . . I gotta go.”
He’d known Roni for years. He’d never seen her like this. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Was she this afraid of Amy? What if she knew something about Amy that he didn’t? Something he should know, before he lost his heart completely. “You know if you ever need anything, you can ask me?”
“Right. Sure.”
Poor thing was a mess. He felt terrible. “Hey, have you talked to Troy about Amy Burns?”
Roni turned completely white. “Not yet. I just got back today. Troy was already at school. I came straight here.”
James wondered how she knew who Amy was if she hadn’t spoken to Troy. He pushed aside his doubts; they must have talked by phone over the five days she was gone. “You sure you’re okay?” She looked like she was going to throw up. It must be Amy she was afraid of, not him. No way was he this scary.
“Fine,” she practically whispered. “Where is she?” She looked behind James like a trapped animal suspecting an ambush.
“Why don’t you take the night off?” he suggested.
“No. I’m good.”
She wasn’t even close to good. “You know Amy’s been staying with Troy?”
“I know.”
Something wasn’t right here. “Roni, is there something you want to tell me?”
All at once, a change came over Roni’s face. She looked at him like he had just told her the answer to a test she was sure she would fail. Some of her color came back. She stood and came to him. Then, to his surprise, she reached out and touched his arm with a shaking hand. She’d never touched him before, but her touch was as he expected it to be, light and hesitant, like a bird. She closed her eyes.
“Roni? You sure you’re okay?”
“Gladys Roman,” Roni said. Her hand was shaking a little less now.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. It’s the name that I hear when I touch you. I think Amy might know what it means. I think that’s why she’s waiting for me. To help me with these names that come to me. It’s awful, James.”
Roni looked a lot better now. But what the hell was she talking about? “I didn’t understand a word you just said.”
“That’s okay, James.” She was smiling now, and her hands were vibrating less. “Never mind. Forget it. I just need to talk to this Amy Burns. But, James, thank you for taking care of Troy. And for letting me come back to work. I have to go.” And with that, his timid waitress bolted past him and out of the walk-in.
Amy pushed into the darkened dining room of Les Fleurs two hours later. James had called her at Troy’s to tell her that Roni had come back and that he had to talk to Amy about something Roni had said. Something that made no sense at all. Something about a voice.
Amy had almost not come. But if James had learned something about Roni, she needed to know what it was, and the impossible man wouldn’t tell her over the phone. His news could help her get Maddie back. She just had to keep her mind on that.

What if Roni told James that she heard my name when she touched him?

The possibility opened before her, and she slammed it shut like a door. Do not look into that room. It is forbidden.
But what if . . . ?
James was sitting at the bar, nursing a Coke.
“A little early to be hitting the hard stuff.” Amy looked around, but the room was empty except for James. No Roni in sight. Relief ran through her that she wouldn’t have to deal with Roni just yet, and she chided herself for being such a wuss.
Then the relief vanished as she watched James. Something was on his mind; she could see it in his clenched jaw.
She imagined the conversation unfolding: Amy, Roni told me that she hears your name when she touches me. Why?

Oh, James, it’s because we’re meant to be together. Soul mates.


I knew that even before Roni told me . . . .
Amy ducked under the bar and poured herself a cranberry juice. She resisted the urge to add a splash of vodka in deference to the long day ahead, then added the vodka, anyway. A drop more. Oops. Oh, well. Despite leaving Troy’s apartment as clean as it had probably ever been, despite the positive vibe she had felt from the boy, she was feeling queasier than ever about Roni’s return. After the channeling, she had realized Roni wasn’t the one she had to convince of her worthiness; Maddie was. And Maddie was a tougher nut to crack, since she’d known Amy her whole life.
And now James was looking so serious.
James fixed her with his green-and-caramel eyes. “Something odd happened this morning. In the walk-in. Tell me what it means.” He told her about Roni touching him and telling him the name Gladys Roman.
At the words Gladys Roman , Amy felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She threw back her drink and poured another shot, this time straight vodka. How could I have been so wrong about James, thinking he was my soul mate?
God, she was stupid to hope that he had summoned her to Les Fleurs to tell her that she was his soul mate.

Marry me, Amy. We are destined to be together!


Yes, James. I love you, too!

Ugh!
Was she really that far gone to imagine such a sappy, impossible ending?
Face the facts: James was nothing. Another man in a long string of men who meant nothing. She looked at him closely. So intense and honest and strong and loyal and . . . nothing.
She reached again for the vodka.
He ducked under the bar.
Amy’s breath hitched at his abrupt nearness. Didn’t angels wear white? Chefs really ought to wear black. The luxurious broadness of his shoulders, the leanness of his waist. This chef really ought to wear nothing at all.
“Tell me what it means, Amy. Who is Gladys Roman?” He backed her against the bar. “Why did you almost fall over when I told you that name? Why do you look so upset now? Like I’ve just washed you down and wrung you out? What the hell is going on here?”
“It’s Gypsy business. You wouldn’t understand.” Having him so near was bliss. She wanted to fall into him. How could she have been so wrong?

Unless Roni is lying .
But why would she lie? Amy’s mind churned through the possibilities. If you were conning someone, you had to want something from them. But Roni already had everything that Amy had to give. Could Maddie be conning her? Telling Roni the wrong name? Was a spirit even capable of lying?
James was watching the emotion play over her face, his eyes narrowed with concern. “What do you want from Roni? Tell me. That poor woman is scared shitless of you.”
“She’s not scared of me. She’s scared of . . . forget it.” She had to pull herself together. James wasn’t her One True Love; that was good. It meant she could stay near him. Wasn’t that what she wanted? After all, he had apologized for being an ass. Now that True Love was out of the picture, they could be buddies again.
Buddies with benefits.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that Roni was lying. Why?
“All right. We’ll play it your way.” He stared at her, and she could see him fighting for control of his frustration. “I need your help.” His voice had gone hard.
“Get in line, buddy. Anyway, Roni’s your gal. I’m gone from the restaurant biz.”
“Roni can’t help with the”—he paused—“menu.” The slightest hint of a blush rose under his olive skin. “I need a whole new menu to blow Scottie Jones away. Amy, he thinks if we could make a whole menu as good as the new dishes we already created together, we could get a third star.” His voice was strained. Like he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask her any of this.
Momentary confusion cleared into crystal-clear understanding. Women inspire his food. He wants to be inspired by me.

Hot mindless uncommitted sex. That was the favor he wanted?
A pang of hurt shot through her, but she shook it away. This was no time to be getting sentimental. She wasn’t his soul mate, which meant that he wasn’t hers. Amy had never seen the Fates be cruel enough to do that to anyone. They could be together—enjoy each other—no strings attached.
And he did say “us” and “we,” as if they were in it together. Partners.
This was what she had wanted—to have James and Maddie both. So why did she feel like slapping him across his gorgeous face? Like punching him in the gut so hard he staggered backward, because she felt she was staggering backward now, into an abyss?

How could I have been so wrong about James?

And yet, she could see the next few weeks as if he had laid a map before her, drawn with careful lines. Place to stay. Hot sex with this beautiful, tender man. Access to Roni. It was a win-win situation. What more could she ask for?
A tiny voice in the back of her head whispered, Love.
She threw back the vodka and repoured.
“Whoa. Easy there.” He took the vodka bottle from her. “Need a few drops tonight for the paying customers.”
She grabbed back the bottle.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he said.
Her vodka sloshed over the side of the glass. “Later.” Never.
He grabbed the glass before she did and poured it down the drain. Then he fixed her with his gaze. He moved so close, he whispered in her ear, “Okay. Forget Roni and Gladys Roman, whoever the hell she is. I don’t give a damn about them. You know we have something together. You think you’re using me and I’m using you, but it’s more, and we both know it. That’s what’s got you so rattled.”
The way her body responded to him was so unfair. Why did she feel so drawn to him if he wasn’t her One True Love?

Roni is lying. Amy knew it to the core of her being. But why? It didn’t make sense. Maybe her instincts were wrong.
“You and me have something, Amy.”
“You and me are just a means to an end, James. Let’s make that perfectly clear before we take this any further.”
“Really?” He didn’t look amused. “Is that how it is?”
Not really. But she could figure that out later. “Yes. Look, James, first, I’m a Gypsy. I don’t stay put with anyone.” No matter how beautiful and dark and sexy they are. “ Second, you freaked me out when you got all psycho over Scottie Jones. I’m not going there again. I haven’t forgiven you. Third . . .”
He waited, arms crossed across his gorgeous chest, the beginning of a smile playing around his burgundy lips.

How could he not be the one?


Third, I need to meet Roni and make sure she’s telling the truth, because if she isn’t, all bets are off. “Third, there is no third. Now. But I’ll think of a third later and let you know. So until then, just hot sex and nothing more.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” He pulled her close, thrusting his thigh between her legs. “Even if you’re lying. I know you care a little bit about me.”
The move was so bold and unexpected; her body against his turned her to liquid heat. “This time I’m not lying.” She swallowed hard.
“So this is just a roommate arrangement for you?” He pushed his thigh a little closer, spreading her legs, his anger making him even sexier, more dangerous.
She lifted her face to his. Kiss me. “Why should I trust you as anything more? You and your restaurant . . .” she murmured, but she was losing herself in the feel of him, the smell of him, the power of him.
He kissed her, hard and yet somehow tenderly. “Be a part of it.” His leg pushed harder, pressing her just there, just perfectly. She melted into him.
“You, me, and Les Fleurs? A threesome?” She tried not to gasp.
“Well, if you count in Stu and Dan and—”
She pressed her lips against his to shut him up and felt his smile. And that thigh down below. Oh, that nicely placed thigh. She closed her eyes. She could stay near Roni and get Maddie back and help him out. Naked. And not get involved. Definitely not fall. For. Him. And. His. Thigh.
His hand moved down her back.
He kissed her, deeply, while pressing his leg closer.
Him.
He crushed her against the bar.

Now .
If Gladys showed up, Amy would lock her in the walk-in and never let her out.
She ran her hands through his hair and down his back. The apron strings would need the slightest tug to come undone. C’mon Captain James, let’s you and me put up the full sails and let this baby fly.
His hand stopped hers just as she was about to release the strings.
“I’ve got a place in the Bourse, top floor. Go. Take the day off in honor of Roni’s return. In honor of our new arrangement. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” His lips brushed over hers, and the warmth of his skin brushed away the cold. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. Such a beautiful man. Such a sexy man. His rough cheek rubbed her smooth one, and she tried to memorize the sensation.
Tonight wouldn’t be soon enough. She pulled his hips into her so that his thigh nestled just right.
He murmured, “Later,” but his rhythm said, “Now.”
She tried to focus her thoughts away from the way his leg moved between hers. She didn’t know what the Bourse was, but a building with a name sure sounded good.
Footsteps passed through the dining room, getting faster as they went. Right. Public place. She could wait. James deserved her full attention. The footsteps retreated, and he moved his leg against her, in and out, pressing just so, and she sighed with the ecstasy of it.
“This is crazy,” she murmured. Nothing wrong with crazy. Especially when it felt so good. She’d get rational later. Maybe.
They stood together, holding each other. He murmured into her neck, “Nothing’s moved like the lobster salad and those scallops since we opened our doors. All artists have muses. Picasso had Françoise Gilot . . .” James seemed to have lost his train of thought somewhere around her left earlobe.
“Popeye had Olive Oyl,” she prodded him on.
He bit her ear. “Exactly.”
“A muse. I like that.” Musedom was responsible. It was serious. It was perfect, really. Almost as perfect as his leg, moving in and out, pressing, probing, promising more good things to come. They could help each other.

How could anything that felt this good be bad?

“But, Amy,” he said. “If you tell me you’ll do this, you have to stay. You can’t bolt on me in the middle. Do you promise?”
“Yes.” She was surprised that she meant it. She didn’t want to bolt.
“The whole menu.”
“I said yes, James, and I meant it. I won’t go.”
“Good. Then we’re partners.”
Roni left the dining room quickly, before James and Amy could see her. She looked at her hands. For the first time since she’d returned, they weren’t shaking.
Maybe, just maybe, this was all going to work out after all.