Page 88 of Long Shot

“Yeah. It is.” I smile as I survey the table. “How was your meal?” I know exactly what table four ordered, and their empty plates seem to attest to satisfied customers.

“Fabulous. Seriously. You really are talented.”

“Thank you.” My heart does warm a bit. He’s an asshole, but he’s a talented and knowledgeable asshole.

“Given what you have to work with.” He gestures.

That doesn’t sit right with me. Sure, this is a small bar and restaurant, but that doesn’t preclude quality.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says.

I smile faintly. “Oh, yeah?”

“We need to talk. Can you take a break and sit with us?”

“I can’t right now. We’re super-busy. I need to get back to the kitchen.”

“We drove all the way down from L.A. to see you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“You’re going to drive all the way down here again tomorrow?”

He lifts a shoulder. “We’ll get a hotel room tonight.”

I shoot a curious glance at his companions—an older, balding man with black-framed glasses and a woman about the same age, with short blond hair and a stick-thin frame. “Well, okay, then. I can meet you somewhere in the morning.”

“We can have breakfast together,” he says. “Is there anywhere decent nearby we can stay?”

“There are a number of hotels close to here.” I name off a couple that are walking distance, a little farther up the beach.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of The Palms,” he says. “We’ll stay there. Meet us at ten.”

“Um, okay. Sure.”

“Great.” He kisses my cheek again and smiles. “See you then, Reese.”

I turn to go back to the kitchen. Cade is standing at the end of the bar, watching me. “Who the fuck is that?” he growls as I pause near him on my way by.

“Graham Sand.”

Cade’s eyes fly open wide. “No way. Chef Superdouche?”

“Yes.”

“The asshole who threw a bottle at you?” He straightens, throwing back his shoulders, and glares at Graham’s table.

I pat his chest. “That was a long time ago.”

“What the hell is he doing here?”

His anger takes me aback. “He, uh, heard that I was working here. He saw Joy Dizon’s review.”

“He came to see you?” His jaw tightens.

“Yes.” I shake my head. “He’s impressed with my cooking. It’s all good.”

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