Buchanan: Delicious Part 9

Penny considered the question. "Good point. Then I'll talk to Reid. I'm sure one of his former girlfriends was an interior decorator."

"a.s.suming he remembers which one."

"Another good point. You're on a roll this morning."

He sipped his coffee. "You're feisty. When did that happen?"

"A hundred and forty-seven days ago. There was a report on the news."

"I missed that."

"I guess it's hiding with your memo about being a G.o.d."

He grinned and she smiled in return. Even as she wanted to lean in and continue the banter, she knew it was far better to keep things completely businesslike between them. Her former relationship with Cal had started with fun conversation and had gotten more dangerous by the minute. Although she felt completely immune now, she didn't want to take any chances. Not when it was surprisingly easy to be around him.

"You've been out of the business a while," she said. "How does it feel to be back?"

"Good. Familiar. I didn't think I'd missed it, but there's something about running a restaurant. Everything's changing, with no hour the same, let alone a day. Time is always the enemy. The next crisis is just around the corner."

"Sounds like you've missed it."

"Maybe I have."

"I hope you remember enough to keep this half up and running."

"Your faith in me is overwhelming."

Cal watched Penny lean back as if separating herself from him. He could read her mind as clearly as if she'd spoken.

He hadn't had faith in her.

The statement wasn't true, but he knew she wouldn't believe him. His attempts to protect her from Gloria had only widened the chasm in their rapidly unraveling marriage.

Ancient history, he told himself. Better to forget it.

She reached into a battered backpack and pulled out a folder. "Here are some sample menus. I've marked the items I want to serve at the big preopening party. The question marks are in place where I'm not sure what will be available that particular day. Inventory changes quickly and my fish people can't promise the more exotic selections until the day of the party."

He took the sheets of paper. "The infamous fish people."

She smiled. "Sometimes they dress in costume."

"I'd like to see that."

She laughed.

The sound washed over him in a wave of unexpected heat. He felt it sink into him, warming him, arousing him.

Whoa. Not going there. He didn't believe in do-overs, not in personal relationships, anyway. He and Penny were simply co-workers, nothing more.

But even as he told himself to back off, s.e.xual energy poured through him, making him aware of the humor in her eyes and the way her skin seemed almost luminous.

He told himself that the former was at his expense and the latter was simply the result of d.a.m.n good lighting in the restaurant. But even he didn't believe it.

"Are you even listening?" she asked.

"Yeah. Fish specials depend on the whim of the fish people."

"No. I was saying that I'll be building my specials slowly. I won't want to dump a bunch of new items on the menu at once. I also have a few things in mind for new signature dishes. Once we're established, I'll offer them as specials and if they take off, I'll put them on the menu. I've also been working on a seasonal menu. Certain fish is available at certain times of the year. I can build around that. The same with produce."

"Berries in the summer, squash in the fall," he said.

She sighed. "I'd like to think I'm more imaginative than that, but yes. That's the idea."

He looked over the menu. There were the basics-steamed and grilled fish, soups, salads, sides.

He'd had her garlic smashed potatoes before and his mouth watered at the memory. She put in a secret ingredient that she'd never shared, even with him.

He flipped to the list of specials. "Corn cakes?" he asked. "I thought we were specializing in Northwest cuisine. Isn't that Southwestern?"

"That depends on how they're prepared."

He shrugged, then shook his head. "Fish and chips? Do we really want to do that here? We're going for an upscale experience, not cheap fast food on the pier."

Her eyes narrowed. "Do I look annoyed?" she asked. "Because you're really p.i.s.sing me off here. Did you or did you not want a special menu?"

"Yes, but-"

"Did you or did you not hire me to make the dining experience special?"

"Yes, but-"

"Perhaps you'd like to give me a chance to do my job before you start complaining."

"Penny," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I get final say on the menu. That's in the contract."

He could practically hear her teeth grinding.

"Fine. Mark everything you consider questionable. Then be back here in two days. We'll have a tasting. At that point, you will sample the foods you object to. I will be in the kitchen where you can crawl to me and beg my forgiveness, after which you'll never, ever question my menu selections again."

He chuckled. "I won't be crawling and I will question as I see fit, but the tasting session sounds fine." He pulled out his Palm Pilot. "What time?"

"Three."

"Fine. Of course if I'm not impressed, I'll be calling the shots on the menu," he told her.

"Only if h.e.l.l has frozen over."

"I hear it's getting cold down there."