Page 155 of The Nanny and the Hothead
Ralph settled himself beside her. “Is he all right?”
Tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t cried since she’d left Mitch. But seeing Ralph opened the flood gates. These last three days, she’d been a ghost. She hadn’t answered any of her friends’ calls or texts. She’d floated through the city, taking pictures, lost in her photography. It was her one escape. The way to quell the ache in her chest. She inhaled an audible breath as Ralph retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket.
“Here,” he said gently, passing it to her.
“I didn’t think people carried these around anymore,” she replied, patting away the tears on her cheeks.
Ralph offered her a warm smile. “I’ve been around a while. Old habits die hard.”
“They do,” she agreed, tears trailing down her cheeks as she pictured the last time she’d seen Mitch. With his hardened facade and searing gaze, he’d reverted to the angry, volatile hothead.
“What happened?” Ralph asked.
“I messed up,” she began, resting the handkerchief on her lap. She took the key between her fingers. “I kept something from Mitch that I shouldn’t have. I should have been upfront with him, and I wasn’t. And then he found out.”
“I take it, he didn’t find out from you,” the man added.
Mitch’s face flashed in her mind. She’d known something was wrong the second she’d stepped foot in the kitchen. “Yeah, that’s how it happened. I tried to apologize. I wanted to make it right, but he called me a liar. He said I betrayed him.” It was as if she were chewing nails as she spoke.
Of course, she was mad at herself. From the moment she’d been accepted to the London workshop, she’d tried to figure out a way to both share the information and soften the blow. But every time she’d even come close to bringing it up, a little voice inside of her head held her back. She didn’t want to make waves and jeopardize the happiness she’d found. She’d wanted to be loved for so very long. She’d dreamed of the white knight, gifting her with affection and grand gestures of adoration. She wanted it all—her Mr. Cheesy Forever.
And she’d had it—or at least she thought she’d had it.
He’d professed his love for her.
This man—this famous chef—wanted her. He worshipped her body every night and could make her head spin with one look. She’d fall asleep wrapped in his arms and wake to his kisses.
But whatever they had, it wasn’t enough for him.
She could have thrown her camera into the creek and swore she’d never leave him, and it wouldn’t have mattered. A realization dawned as she’d stared into his blazing eyes. If it wasn’t this workshop, it would be something else. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust himself. He couldn’t see forgiveness as a way forward. To him, it was a weakness. It was easier to cling to the pain than to reach out for salvation.
“I’ve known Mitch since he was seventeen—since his days of hot-wiring cars. Did he tell you about his grandfather?” Ralph asked, bringing her back.
She released the key. “He mentioned that his parents died when he was very young and that his grandfather took him in. But he said they weren’t close. He died a little after Mitch turned eighteen. I got the message that once Mitch was an adult, he was on his own.”
Ralph sat back and exhaled a slow breath. “That’s the bare-bones version of it. But there’s more.”
She sat quietly, watching the man as he stilled, seemingly lost in thought.
“I knew Mitch’s grandfather—Bruce was his name. I knew Mitch’s grandmother, too. They had a tumultuous relationship. She ran off with another man, but Mitch never knew her.”
Charlotte swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I had no idea.”
Ralph stared ahead. “Mitch doesn’t know about that. But when she left Bruce, the man was never the same. He’d closed himself off. By the time Mitch came to live with him, he was a surly husk of a man—bitter until the end. Don’t get me wrong. He gave Mitch a roof over his head and three meals a day. He had a meager pension. They got by. But the man had hardened his heart and had no love to give. That type of homelife isn’t easy.”
Charlotte nodded. She knew that better than anyone.
“When Bruce got sick, Mitch needed to help make ends meet, and that’s where he ran into trouble with the law. But there was something about him. He was this hardened, sullen teenager, and then he stepped into Louise’s kitchen, and he transformed. The kid pulled you in. His work ethic was second to none. His enthusiasm was pure electricity. The whole kitchen came alive when he cooked.”
Charlotte brushed a tear from her cheek. “Yeah, I can agree with you there. Watching him cook is mesmerizing.”
Mitch Elliott had been the perfect subject to photograph. And it wasn’t only that he might as well be named the world’s hottest chef. The man was passionate, enthusiastic, and focused in a maddeningly sexy way that had her ready to ride him like a food truck groupie once the clock struck nine, and they were sure Oscar had fallen asleep. The attraction had been there from the beginning—that breathtaking, all-encompassing thrill. Even when she’d hated the guy, she couldn’t deny the visceral reaction his presence evoked in her.
“So, you can see how Holly and Seth became enamored with him. It’s a shame what happened to them.”
“What happened to Seth?” she asked. She thought he was living the good life at a resort in Florida.
Ralph leaned forward. “He got into a motorcycle accident last year. We had no idea. We hadn’t heard from him in ages. He called Louise last week. I guess Mitch’s publisher wanted him to sign some contracts, and it got him thinking about his past. He’s fallen on hard times.”
