Hungry for More

CHAPTER 13



Amy pushed through the front door of Les Fleurs at four thirty-seven, the exact same moment James pushed through the kitchen door into the dining room. John-John was behind him, carrying samples of the night’s specials. Dan and Stu were already waiting at the huge back table with other servers. They had just finished the giant preservice staff meal, but you wouldn’t know it by the way everyone stared hungrily at the newly brought food. The busers and runners, who were standing around the bar being lectured by Elliot, all descended on the table like animals drawn by the smell.

“Late,” James said to Amy as the plates were placed on the table.

Sexy, Amy thought, watching James in action. The contrast between his bleached chef’s whites and his dark olive skin made her want him more than ever. Why was this man always in clothes?

The reverence of his staff vibrated around the room, all eyes on James and his food. The man towered above everyone, not just because of his height, but because of his intensity and focus. He was the star of his own show.


Amy missed that feeling. She was a nobody runner. Or was she? At least she had something with James. But what?

A heat of a blush crept up her neck, betraying her unease. She couldn’t get a read on how James was feeling about last night, but to her dismay, she cared. Deeply. She willed away the tension in her stomach. He was fun. He was sexy. He told me no. He held me tight.

The amazing smells wafting off the night’s special dishes swirled around her. She hadn’t eaten since the ketchup and crackers that morning, and her hunger made her feel even edgier than she already felt at the memory of his hands on her hips. His mouth on hers.

Elliot ran through the special guests and large parties expected that night; then James reviewed the appetizer specials. Amy didn’t hear a word of it. What if she could speak to Maddie tonight? What if Maddie spoke in sentences, words other than names? It would be freakish, like hearing a baby sing opera. Maybe this whole thing was a terrible idea. What if Maddie said something Amy didn’t want to hear? What if she said James wasn’t her One True Love and Amy could have him, no strings attached?

What if she said James was her One True Love and she had to give up her power forever if she wanted to have him?

“We’re doing the Josie again,” James said. His lips tried not to quirk into a smile as his eyes met Amy’s.

“Awesome,” Dan said. “Josie’s huge. I can barely walk it across the floor without getting molested.”

“I think it’ll be even better today,” James said. “I have some new ideas about making the sauce a little smokier, more complex.” His eyes were smokier, more complex.

He likes me, too.

“And, the entrée special is divers scallops,” James said. He pointed to a plate on the center of the table. Elliot passed it, everyone spearing a scallop greedily. “Pan-seared with wild mushrooms, Belgian endives on the side, braised with fish stock, butter, vermouth, and sugar.”

Stu chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Hey, you get laid last night, man? ’Cause this is good!”

Dan ate carefully. “Oh, yes. It’s been a while, Chef. Spill. Who’s the babe?”

James met Amy’s eyes. The entire staff turned to her, and she felt herself go hot with embarrassment.

But Dan misunderstood her blush. “Oh. Hey. Sorry, Ames. Just. Nothing. We forgot there was a woman present,” Dan sputtered. He was bright red.

The staff seemed to come around to Dan’s misunderstanding that they were embarrassing Amy by talking about sex, and they all hemmed and hawed and looked away.

But Dan went on. “Aw, hell, if she works here, she ought to know that James names all his dishes after women. He gets his inspiration from, well—”

“F*cking?” Amy asked sweetly. She was thrilled that she had inspired another dish—without f*cking. Almost thrilled enough to forget her unease at not knowing what was going on behind James’s inscrutable expression. “I’d like to hear about James’s lay, too.” She reached in and took a scallop with her fingers. She leaned her head back and dropped the morsel into her mouth. The flesh melted on her tongue as the flavors exploded one by one. James watched her. “She must have been very, very good, James.”

“It’s all right there. Soft, trembling flesh. Amazingly fresh. Almost raw.”

“What’s the code name, Chef?” Stu asked. “Lulu? Betty? Who is she? Do we know her?”

“My little secret. Let’s call her”—he hesitated—“Fiona.”

Amy felt her body heat down to her toes. Fiona was her second favorite p-ssycat. She snatched the last scallop just before a buser got it. The man shot her the evil eye. But Amy didn’t care. The scallop was so luxurious, so sensuous. Her whole body went hot with desire. Was this what sex was like for a man?

Was this what sex would be like with James? She wanted to find out; Maddie could go to hell.

Amy fell into a chair at that unexpected thought. Did she want James more than Maddie? Oh, she had to watch herself. He was just a man. Maddie was her life, her power, her world.

Elliot took over. He ran through most of the server sections for the night, then turned to Amy. “Ready for your own table tonight? Number eight. And run for Stuey and Danno. And bus with Troy.”

Elliot met James’s eye, and Amy knew that James had given her the table. A thrill ran through her, chased by apprehension.

“You’ll get it,” Stu said, catching her uncertainty. “It took Danno here at least a week to learn what a reduction was.”

“Yeah. No sweat,” Dan added. “What’s a reduction again?”

Stu swatted him and James looked appalled.

I’m not going to be here another week, Amy thought. I’ve got to grab Maddie and go. And yet, she still wanted to know what a reduction was. She wanted to get it right.

What if for once in her life she could get something right besides conning people?

“Okay, kids, back to work,” James said. “Let’s get this room ready.” James rose and Amy tried not to watch the length of him uncurl from the chair. Lovely. “Sell the hell out of Fiona tonight. I got a deal on scallops, but they won’t keep.”

“Not a long-term relationship, huh?” Dan asked.

“We’ll see,” James said. He looked right at Amy. “I hope so, but you know how some dishes are. They come and go on a whim.”



“If I just sleep with him once, to get him out of my system, is that so bad?” Amy asked her imaginary Oprah. They were at the barista station near the kitchen door, checking the glassware for spots.

“That makes no sense at all, hon. But, then, you’ve never been one to follow reason; why start now?”

“Because this is serious. I can’t love this man. Oh, don’t give me that look, Oprah. You’d never give up your power for a man.”

Oprah clamped her lips shut. They were silent for a while. But just as Oprah was about to respond, Stu walked into the space Oprah was occupying, and the imaginary host disintegrated into nothing.



“You okay?” he asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Amy was back at the restaurant. “I think I’m allergic to scallops.”

Stu shook his head. “On the contrary. I believe scallops suit you to a T. Congratulations are in order. An entrée so fast is a record, Fiona.”

Amy clamped her teeth together to keep her mouth from flying open in surprise.

Stu must have misunderstood her rigid jaw, because he patted her hand sympathetically. “Jamesey didn’t spill. But I’m no dummy. I notice these things. That’s what happens when you’re happily married for twenty years with a kid about to go into college. You watch other people. They’re way more interesting. My life is stable and dull.”

“It was a one-night stand. Not even,” Amy said. A pang of curiosity shot through her at the thought of stable and dull. Stu might have been the happiest-looking man she’d ever seen. Except for James, last night.

Last night. James holding her. She had felt so totally . . . stable.

And it had felt good. Was that what it felt like to be normal? It was like a secret no one had ever let on to her about: being held was better than sex.

No way. She was losing it. Completely losing it.

“He’s downstairs in the walk-in,” Stu said. “If you want to keep it going.”

“Did he put you up to this?” I hope so. Amy wasn’t sure what to make of Stu. With his bald head and paunchy middle, he looked like the kind of nice, beer-drinking, everybody’s-best-friend captain of the bowling team.


“A happy chef makes happy diners, and happy diners leave good tips.”

“So I should f*ck the chef in the fridge so we make more money? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Take one for the team, so to speak,” Stu said.

Stu had a little more edge than he showed in his soft, blue eyes.

Don’t sleep with James for yourself; do it for everyone else. Now, there was an excellent rationalization she could latch on to.

Stu went on, “I’m also saying that James is a good guy, and we all depend on him. And I could be wrong, but I think you might be good for him. Let me tell you something about James that you might have noticed: He never leaves this place. Comes at the break of dawn. Leaves after midnight. It’s good for us; we make a killing. But it’s not normal. A man needs more than that kind of life.”

Amy didn’t want to think about what James needed. She was here to get what she needed. And yet, she couldn’t shake the idea of James needing her. It felt so warm and right. “Does everyone know everything about everyone in this place?”

“Yup.” Stu smiled at her. “Red thong first day here,” he added, winking at her, in case she needed proof.

“I’m gonna kill James—”

“Nah. Denny was down there for cannelloni beans, and he caught the show. Let me tell you, the kitchen boys have been way happier than usual to schlep to the walk-in. It’s six-to-one today on green. When are you changing?”

“Bet a hundred on yellow. We’ll split the winnings.”

“Sixty-forty.”

“Hey, it’s my butt in the underwear.”

“But it’s my ass if I get caught cheating.”

“Ten minutes from now, in the walk-in.” Amy was anxious to get Stu on her side. They sat for a few minutes, inspecting the glasses. “So where is Roni?” Amy asked as casually as she could.

“That I don’t know.” He met her eyes. His face was creased with worry, like a dad.

Good, Roni didn’t share Gypsy business with the staff. That was excellent news, since nothing else seemed to be a secret around this place.

More good news was that Stu had a soft spot. That might come in handy later. He’s smart but soft. Family man—a big weakness where kids and wives are concerned. Stu was one of those rare men who truly seemed to love his wife and kid.

Amy imagined what that might be like, living with people you loved and who loved you back. Staying put, in one place, building a home. Stu was like an alien from another planet that she had never even wanted to visit. Until she met James. “Troy said she disappears a lot.”

“Not a lot. Once since I’ve been here. But this time is weird.”

“Why?” Amy strained to hear every detail. Maybe there’d be a clue. Something she could use to find Roni.

Stu stood up, smoothed back his nonexistent hair, then stroked his graying goatee. “Because this time there’s a beautiful gypsy named Amy chasing her. And Amy seems kind of dangerous. You know what I mean? Shows up out of nowhere. Lies to the busboy and gets into his apartment. Gets the boss in her bed and inspires an entrée before we even learn her name.” He held up a hand to stop her from responding. “I like you and so does James. Which means whatever you’re up to, I don’t want to know. I just want this restaurant to keep filling the seats so that I can send my kid to college and keep my beautiful wife the happiest woman in the world.”

“Got it.” Amy felt kind of sorry for the guy, wanting so little.

But she sure didn’t feel sorry for his wife. Amy imagined what her life would be like if James felt that way about her.

Then she caught herself. What was wrong with her? She didn’t need a man. She needed Maddie. Fast.





The first bite must contain the promise of the entire meal.

—JAMES LACHANCE, The Meal of a Lifetime