Page 87 of Long Shot

I frown at him. “What? Why? We’re in serious weeds here.”

Since that review at Joy Dizon’s blog, we’ve been crazy busy, every night.

Tony shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a problem.” He grins. “Probably just wants to pay his compliments to the chef.”

“Ha. Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Table four.”

I finish the dish I’m making with a topping of shaved cabbage, wipe my hands on a towel, and head out front. I’m probably all shiny and red-faced. I smooth back my hair and walk toward table four, where three people are dining. My footsteps slow as I approach, though.

Graham.

My former boss. My former lover.

I haven’t seen him in years, other than on TV. I haven’t seen him since the day he threw a beer bottle at me. He’s now a famous reality TV star, legendary for yelling and insulting and crushing people vying for the top spot in the television kitchen. He’s turned his temper into a TV ratings asset.

As I near the table, I sense the electric atmosphere in the room. Conquistadors is buzzing; probably a lot of guests have recognized Graham. My eyes shift around and yeah . . . everyone is scrutinizing him, whispering, smiling excitedly.

He’s still devastatingly handsome, his dark hair just tipped with silver at his temples, his thick eyebrows and deep-set eyes giving him an intense, broody look. A layer of stubble darkens his strong jaw, and his sculpted lips form an imposing line.

He looks up at me as I stop next to the table and his eyebrows rise. “Reese.”

“Graham. Hi.”

He stands and sets his hands on my shoulders, pulling me into an embrace, kissing my cheek. “Lovely to see you.” He draws back and smiles. “You’re as gorgeous as ever.”

I smile tightly. “Thank you.” I cock my head and move away from his hands. “Lovely to see you, too. What brings you here?”

“You.” His eyes crinkle up attractively. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Yeah, I was attracted to him, back as a young prep cook in his kitchen. He knows he’s good-looking. “I heard you’re working here now.”

“Ah. Let me guess. Joy Dizon’s review.”

“Yes. It was definitely glowing.” His eyebrows slope down over his nose. “This doesn’t seem quite . . . you, though.”

I lift my chin. “What does that mean?”

“Darling. You were the Rising Star. You had such a bright future. What happened?”

I stare at him. “You didn’t hear about Nova?”

He frowns. “Nova? Oh . . . in New York. Right. I hear they’re closing down.”

“What? Really?” I haven’t heard that. But then I’ve deliberately shut myself off from all news about the industry, especially in New York.

“Yeah.”

“But you heard about the shooting there . . . yes?”

“Yeah. Saw it in the news. That was fucked up. You were lucky.”

“Lucky. Well. I didn’t feel very lucky. But thanks for your concern.”

“Reese.” He shakes his head. “I was concerned about you.”

“Oh. Okay.” I never heard from him, but I’m not going to call him on that. I heard from a lot of people, but after a while I stopped responding to emails and messages, so it’s possible he tried to contact me.

“This place is cute.”

---