Part 4 (2/2)

”You forget that I know you. You'll be online picking up G.o.d knows what from Germany and France and sucking down twenty grand before I blink.”

She turned away so he wouldn't see her smile. ”I'd never do that.”

”Oh, right. This from a woman who asked for a set of knives for her wedding present.”

She spun back to face him, more than ready to take him on. ”Cal-”

He cut her off with a quick shake of his head. ”Sorry. I won't bring up our marriage again.”

”Good.”

News of her relations.h.i.+p, or former relations.h.i.+p, with Cal Buchanan would be common knowledge to the kitchen staff within fifteen minutes of opening. Kitchens didn't have secrets. But that didn't mean she wanted it shoved in their faces. Or hers.

Seeing Cal, talking to him, was strange. She wasn't sure what she felt. Not angry. Awkward maybe. Sad. Things had been good once. But he hadn't cared. He'd...

Okay, maybe she was a little angry. It had been three years. Who would have guessed there would be so much unfinished emotion?

At least she wasn't going to have to deal with him on a regular basis.

”I'll get you a list,” she said. ”I'll take an inventory after we're done.”

”Okay.” He looked at her. ”Try not to scream.”

”About what?”

”There are contracts in place.”

She knew he didn't mean with employees, which only left food and services.

”Not my problem,” she told him.

”It is, because you have to deal with them.”

So typical, she thought. Cal was management. He might intellectually understand what it took to get dinner out for two or three hundred, but he didn't feel it in his soul.

”I'm not working with c.r.a.p,” she said.

”Can they screw up before you a.s.sume it's c.r.a.p?”

”If the food had been good quality, the restaurant wouldn't be shut down,” she told him. ”So there was something wrong, and I'm guessing it was the food. I have my own people I like to deal with.”

”We have contracts.”

”No, you have contracts.”

”You're getting a cut now, Penny. You're part of us.”

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