Part 12 (1/2)

She stood up abruptly. ”Let's go back. I have to get the dining room set up.”

”Why? It's Tuesday. We're closed.”

She seemed to stall out. ”The plumber. The plumber's in my office. He'll need to be paid.”

Nate told himself that pus.h.i.+ng her was not the answer. Patience, on the other hand, might just get him where he wanted to go.

Yeah, and where was that exactly?

The idea that he'd made a destination out of her concerned him. Just like that pit in his stomach, which, in spite of the chicken he'd just eaten and the fact that he wasn't looking at the lake, was still with him.

Nate stared up at her. ”I'm glad you talked to me.”

”I don't know why I did.” She started bouncing from foot to foot as if warming up for the trip down the mountain.

He stood, brushed off his shorts and grabbed the bag. He kept his voice causal. ”We all need a friend at one time or another. You can pay me back in kind sometime.”

He started for the trail and was surprised when she didn't follow. He looked over his shoulder to find her staring at him, a hard light in her eyes.

”I meant what I said, Nate. We aren't going to get close.”

”So we'll just have s.e.x. And I won't ask anymore prying questions.” He smiled, even though getting the stiff-arm from her hurt.

”I'm serious. I don't want anything from you.”

He narrowed his eyes, thinking about their kiss. ”You sure about that?”

”Positive.”

And just what was so d.a.m.n wrong with him, he wondered grimly.

She brushed a piece of hair out of her face. ”I don't want you as a lover or a friend.”

”Oh, that's right. Because you've got so many of both.”

”Just leave me alone.”

Two long strides had him next to her. He was of a mind to point out that relying on others wasn't a capital crime, but she stepped back in alarm, as if he might force himself on her. It was like getting slapped. That she thought he was that kind of man.

Nate lifted his arms, holding his hands away from her.

”You want to be left alone? You got it, lady,” he growled. ”Just give me a five-minute head start so we don't have to walk down together.”

He turned and headed for the footpath, not at all surprised when she did nothing to stop him.

Ah, h.e.l.l. Instead of fighting for her, he should let her go. She wasn't interested in a casual lay and that was all he could offer her because he didn't do relations.h.i.+ps. As for the friends bit? What a load of horse manure that was. As far as he was concerned, they could be lovers or nothing.

Nate dragged a hand through his hair, not real impressed with the way he was thinking about the situation. Lovers or nothing? G.o.d, he sounded like such a guy.

But d.a.m.n it, if he was honest with himself, her rejection hurt. And he wanted to lash out at something.

So maybe he should go for a run when he got back to the house.

Yeah, like to Kentucky and back.

Several days later, Frankie surveyed the dining room from the mahogany hostess stand at the door. It was Friday at eight o'clock and they had fifteen out of twenty tables filled. The surging volleys of talk cut through the cla.s.sical music playing from the stereo.Word about Nate had gotten out around town and the locals were coming to sample the new chef's food. People she hadn't seen except for when she was doing errands in the square were coming back to eat at White Caps. As she looked at all the filled seats, she had to remind herself not to get excited, not to find the lifeline she was looking for in what might only be a one-time tryout for the patrons, not a trend.

But there were plenty of new things for them to try. Nate had completely reinvigorated the menu. It was all nouvelle cuisine now and the words were in French with English translations he'd written out for her. She'd typed the text up on the computer, bought some heavy, creamy paper usually used for resumes and printed out new inserts for the leather bound menu folios they'd been using for twenty years.

As a couple came through the door, Frankie smiled, unsheathed two menus, and led the way across the room. Generally, Joy played hostess because she was better at it. Looked better, too. But Grand-Em wasn't doing well tonight so Frankie was picking up the slack as well as busing tables. The two college girls she'd hired as waitresses were working out well, but if business kept up, they might need even more help.

Although this time she'd try and hire a guy. Because watching Rachel and Theresa drool over Nate was wearing thin and the girls had only been around for a week. G.o.d, the constant giggling and jiggling was driving Frankie nuts.

Although she was not jealous. Or being possessive. Really.

She was on the way back to the hostess stand when a woman reached out and waxed poetic about the chicken she was eating. As the guest insisted her compliments be sent along to the chef, Frankie smiled, nodded and thought that short of slipping Nate a note, she wasn't sure how she was going to do that.

Nate had given her just what she'd asked for. He hadn't looked at her or spoken more than three words to her since he'd left her on the mountain. His inventory reports were on her desk in the morning and he was always busy at the stove whenever she came through the kitchen. When she'd given him his paycheck and tried to thank him for all his hard work, he'd nodded curtly and walked out on her.

Typhoid Mary had gotten more attention from a man.

This was really not what she wanted. They needed to have a good professional relations.h.i.+p and the silent treatment was making work uncomfortable. She also couldn't really understand the total cold shoulder and wondered if maybe she'd hurt his feelings a little. But that seemed like a really arrogant a.s.sumption. Especially considering he had a fan club of nubile twenty-year-olds.

At the end of the night, she went back to her office and added up the business they'd done. Thirty-five meals, plus drinks, plus tips. Over twenty-five hundred dollars. More than they'd brought in over a single night in a long time.

All because of Nate.

She looked up from the receipts. If this continued, she was going to catch up with the mortgage just fine by the end of October. And the timing was great. The meeting with Mike at the bank had been tense, even though he'd a.s.sured her that he wasn't going to foreclose. She figured she'd call him in the morning, share a little good news and take some pressure off of him.

Joy stepped into the doorway, looking worn out. ”Grand-Em's finally asleep.”

Frankie could imagine how her sister had spent the night. Distraction was the only thing that worked when the delusions got really strong and it was hard to come up with games and tricks for hours straight. Grand-Em might be losing her grasp on reality, but her mind was as quick as it always had been.

”How are you holding up?”

”I'm p.o.o.ped. She's still obsessed about finding her ring. She keeps insisting it's in the wall in her old bedroom. We also had more noise than usual downstairs so I think that kept her going, too. We sounded busy.”

”We were.”

”Nate's really wonderful, isn't he? We're so lucky he came by. He's made such a difference.”

Frankie nodded and glanced down at the evidence.

Her sister frowned. ”You don't seem to like him much.”

”He's a good chef.” She kept her eyes fixed on the paper.