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But the fantasy of it and the actualdoingit… Was he ready to leave his home country? To leave his half sister? His mates? His restaurant? Even for only a year or so while establishing the new restaurant?
And was Los Angelesreallyready for his version of Australian cuisine? Not a single American he spoke to over there knew what ‘Buckley’s chance’ meant. And don’t get him started on the abomination they called a Bloomin’ Onion.
“So,” Kara’s voice dragged him back to the car, “whydidyou ask for the American’s phone number?”
He looked at her, just as she arched a pierced eyebrow at him.
“It’s not like you need to hit on strange women you meet in the airport,” she pointed out, returning her attention to the busy street. “If you want to find a woman you only have to give Nora a call. She’s got a whole string of them lined up ready, remember.”
He groaned at the producer’s name.
Kara snorted. “I should warn you, she did come into the restaurant yesterday. Asking when you were coming back.”
“Can she not take a hint?”
“I suspect when she looks at you, all she can see is record-breaking ratings. And from what I understand people in TV land aren’t used to being told no.” Kara flicked him a look. “But that doesn’t answer my question. What’s the deal with asking for the American woman’s phone number?”
“She seemed…nice.”
It was the truth. She had. In the short time they’d interacted, the woman who’d rescued his passport had seemed shy but friendly. And damn, she was gorgeous. But it had been something in her eyes that caught his attention more than her looks. He sensed a fragile strength to her, which he knew made no bloody sense. Something couldn’t be fragile and strong at the same time, and yet something about the American made him think of those two contrasting states.
He didn’t do relationships. It was easier not to. But something about her had made him wonder…
“Nice?” Kara snorted. “You really using the word nice? I’m not sure that’s actually a compliment these days.”
Angus rolled his eyes. “Okay, something abouthermade something inmefeel good.”
She shot him a lewd look. “I bet.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Santos.”
She laughed.
“Something in my gut,” he clarified, scanning the footpath again. “I just…wanted to talk to her a bit more.”
“Your gut?”
“Don’t knock my gut. My gut employed you when I had five other apprentice chefs with better experience and references to choose from.”
“I applaud your gut then. Thank you, Angus’s gut.”
He chuckled.
She changed lanes, indicated, flipped off the person behind her, and frowned. “So what did happen? Whydidn’tyou get her number?”
“You called,” he pointed out. “And she seemed to…I don’t know, freak out a little when I said your name.”
“Why?”
Angus shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she thought I was an unfaithful jerk? Maybe she thought I was taking a call from my girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?” Kara burst out laughing. “Oh God, you aresonot my type.”
“I know.”
“I mean, you’re too tall for starters.”
“Okay. True, I guess.” At six foot five, he was too tall for a lot of people.
