I pinch the bridge of my nose. I bite back the temptation to scream at him to leave. I want nothing more but we're in the middle of Nova. The lunch crowd is dispersing but there are still dozens of people enjoying a leisurely meal. My co-workers are here too and even though Tyler left before I arrived, I know he'll be back soon. Darrell told me as much.
"I don't miss you," I say tightly. "I've moved on. My life is different now."
He straightens in his seat, his fingers pulling on the edge of the linen napkin covering his lap. He's wearing jeans and a blue dress shirt, open at the collar. He's tanned, relaxed and as women stream out of the restaurant, they do a double take to soak in a second look at him. I can't blame them. It's what drew me to him in the first place. What they can't see is the selfish heart that beats within him.
"You should come back to Axel." His jaw tenses. "I'm offering you a senior chef position right now."
It's nothing more than bait. He knows that's what I want. He also knows that despite the fact that I only graduated from culinary school a few months ago, that I'm just as skilled as he is. I proved that in spades to him when we were working side-by-side.
"I'm happy here." I tap my foot on the floor as I stand in place. "I'll never work with you again."
"You sound so sure of yourself." His voice is raspy. He turns to look toward the kitchen. "What's keeping you here? Is it Monroe?"
I won't go there with him. I refuse to. We may have shared something for a brief moment of time but that's dead now. If I had any doubt of that, I don't anymore. I feel nothing for him. Any residual longing or regret is gone. "I like it here, Brendon. This is where I belong now."
He rises from his chair, his eyes level with mine. "You don't belong here. You're better than this place."
"No." I shake my head. "You've got it wrong. They appreciate me here."
"If they appreciated you, they would have told you this halibut is over-seasoned." He tosses his napkin onto his virtually untouched plate. "I'll give you carte blanche at Axel. You can choose the menu, cook what you want. I'll see to it that you get what you deserve if you come back to work for me."
"She's not coming back to work for you." A deep voice interrupts from behind me. "You had your chance. You fucked it up."
I turn toward Tyler. His expression is full of challenge, his eyes angry and focused.
"Don't speak for her," Brendon seethes under his breath. "You don't realize who she really is. You've only seen one part of her."
Tyler steps forward but I still him with a hand to his chest. "Don't bother, Chef. He's not worth it."
Brendon ignores Tyler as he brushes past me. "I'll be waiting for you, Den. You give me the word and the job is yours."
CHAPTER 22
"We should talk about the job offer, Cadence." Tyler shoves his hard through his hair. "Ignoring it won't make it go away."
"Actually ignoring it will make it go away, Chef." I cover my face with my hands. "Brendon was being an asshole."
"Trevino is an asshole." He crouches in front of me, his hands resting on the arms of the wooden chair I'm sitting in. We'd come to small office at the back of the restaurant after Brendon left. Tyler's consoling me now in virtually the same spot he fucked me. "Did you know he was going to be here?"
I angle my face toward him as I drop my hands. There's no accusatory note in his tone, but there's something. I don't know how much of my exchange with Brendon he overheard, but whatever it was, he should have known, based on my body language and the vein pulsing in my neck, that I was angered to see my ex-boyfriend.
"I had no idea."
His face softens. "He upset you, didn't he?"
He did. I don't want to feel anything in relation to Brendon but when the front of the house manager walked into the kitchen when I arrived, twenty minutes early for my shift, she announced that there was a special someone waiting for me. I quickly realized those words were Brendon's and not hers.
I was tempted to let him sit alone in the dining room while he picked at the halibut, but cowering in the corner when faced with an ex-lover is not something I'll do.
When I walked up to his table, the smug look of satisfaction on his face was nauseating. Ever since he landed the executive chef position at Axel, his self-image has been skewed. He may be good behind a stove, but it doesn't excuse him from being a decent human being.
"I'm fine." I shrug.
"Was he serious about offering you a senior chef's job?"
If the question wasn't laced so heavily with surprise, I wouldn't be as taken back as I am. "He was serious, yes."
"Just in title though, right?" His eyes pierce into mine. "He wants you to go back to him so he'll give you the title of senior chef. Is that what the offer was about?"
No, the offer was about the fact that Brendon and I would cook for hours each week in the small, cramped kitchen at his apartment. We would pick each of our original recipes apart until we found just the right balance of flavors.
When we were both happy with it, Brendon, a senior chef at the time, would present the dishes to the head chef at Axel. They're rave about the flavors and more often than not, those dishes would make it to the permanent menu.