Cole said nothing. His face had gone blank, no emotion.
“You want to say anything about this?” she invited.
“No.” Nothing more. It was like talking to a brick wall.
She sighed and clicked off the phone, putting it in her purse. She leaned across the table, talking in a low voice so the other diners wouldn’t hear. “What in the world are you doing working on an oyster farm?” she asked. “You won the world’s most prestigious sustainable technology award and then just disappeared off the face of the earth?”
Just then, River approached their table wearing an apprehensive expression. “Uh, folks, there’s been an incident in the kitchen.” He cleared his throat nervously.
Georgia and Cole both looked up. “What kind of an incident?” Cole asked. He sounded relieved to be off the conversational hook.
“Um.” The young man glanced back toward the kitchen and lowered his voice. “Our new cook, uh, well. She just chopped the top of her finger off slicing scallops.”
Cole winced and Georgia sucked in a breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw three people rush out the back of the restaurant into the parking lot. One of them was wearing chef’s whites and cradling her hand while the other two supportedher. Georgia recognized the server with the knitted garb as she helped the injured chef into a car, then jumped into the driver’s seat, and sped off. They left behind a small, distraught-looking dark-haired woman who watched them go.
“I’m really sorry, folks, but your meal is not going to be able to be served,” River said. “We don’t think we can get another chef in today. We apologize for the inconvenience. All drinks you were served are on us.” He turned to go.
“Wait a minute,” Cole called, flashing Georgia the briefest hint of a smirk. River paused. Georgia didn’t like the look of that smile. Oh no, surely, he wasn’t going to...
“This is your lucky day, pal. Because this lovely woman right here is a professional chef in Paris,” Cole told him.
Georgia shot him a dirty look just as River asked, “Really?”
“Yes, it’s true,” Cole said helpfully. “And she’s got a heart of gold. Loves to volunteer her time to help others in need.”
“Just a minute, let me go get Myra,” River said and he loped off, looking hopeful.
Georgia rounded on Cole. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.
He shrugged with faux innocence. “Helping you out. You said you needed to get your spark back. What better way to do it than to help this local restaurant out of their difficulty?” He took a slow sip of water. “After all, one good turn deserves another, isn’t that how that saying goes?” He gave her an arch look.
And just when she was starting to warm up to him...
“You are intolerable,” Georgia murmured hotly. But there was no backing out now. Here came River with the small, harried-looking woman from the parking lot. The woman gave a tired smile when she saw Cole, and he raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, Myra.”
Then she saw Georgia, and her face lit up like she’d just glimpsed her salvation. “River tells me you’re a trained chef?” she asked tentatively.
“In Paris,” Cole supplied helpfully. “Her restaurant has a Michelin star.”
“Two stars,” Georgia corrected, “but I’m only a sous-chef.” No one acknowledged either correction.
“Oh, thank goodness.” The woman let out a huge sigh of relief. “I’m Myra Yoon.” She stuck out her hand. She was a lean, petite woman who looked to be in her early forties, with an earthy vibe, the kind of person who undoubtedly wore natural deodorant and composted. “Can you, do you think... could you step in for us, just for today?” Myra gave her a pleading look, then rushed to explain. “I know it’s a lot to ask and you’re probably on vacation and I totally understand if you can’t, but we’re booked solid for lunch and dinner and we can’t really afford to lose a day of customers.” She trailed off, looking so hopeful... and tired.
Georgia softened. In Myra’s eyes, Georgia recognized a kindred spirit, a woman passionate about food, trying to make a go of it in an industry heavily biased toward men. Women in the restaurant industry were a sisterhood. They had a responsibility to lift one another up, Georgia firmly believed. She owed it to Myra to help her if she could.
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Don’t expect much,” she warned with a sigh, standing and pushing her chair back. “I’m not very experienced with these ingredients, and cooking in a completely new kitchen is a tall order.”
Not to mention that she couldn’t actually taste any of the ingredients or dishes. She looked around at the other tables, at the family with tweens and all the middle-aged ladies in the Korean tour group. Now the entire restaurant would be waitingfor her to whip up a culinary miracle. Her stomach did a flip. What if she failed? What if she made another salty mousse sort of mistake?
Myra heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to us. I’m not a chef, but I know my way around the kitchen. I’ve been helping out while we look for a sous-chef anyway, so I can sort of guide you through the recipes. And I think that together River and I can handle serving all the tables today. I’m fluent in Korean, so I can take this tour group, and River can handle the rest of the lunch reservations. If we work together, I think we might be able to manage this.” She cast an anxious look in Georgia’s direction.
“Okay then, let’s get going,” Georgia responded graciously. As she followed Myra toward the kitchen, she turned and flipped Cole the middle finger. He smiled grimly and called out, “Have fun, honey. I’ll come back to pick you up at closing.”
Georgia pivoted and surveyed the room. “Excuse me,” she said loudly. Every eye swiveled to her. The Korean tour group ladies fell silent. The tweens looked up from whatever they were doing on their smartphones. “If you’re thinking that the handsome gentleman at the table right over there by the window looks familiar, the answer is yes. He is that famous and very sexy actor fromThe Vampire Diaries. And he loves meeting fans, so today only, he’s going to be taking selfies with anyone who wants to. Don’t be shy, just go ahead and approach him.” She pointed to Cole, shooting him a big, bright, evil smile.
Immediately, both the tweens started snapping pictures of Cole from across the room while a few of the middle-aged Korean ladies reached for their selfie sticks and pushed back their chairs. The balding man in the fisherman’s sweater kept eating clams, watching the commotion with interest.
Cole shot her a look of pure loathing as he jumped to his feetand practically bolted from the restaurant. Feeling marginally victorious, Georgia resolutely put all thoughts of Dr.Cabot Cole Montgomery, mysterious vanishing brilliant scientist / current oysterman / all-around pain in the ass from her mind and followed Myra into the kitchen. She had bigger fish to fry. It was time to make some magic. And she was absolutely terrified.
