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“Fuck him instead, apparently.” Grant laughed.
“You’re an asshole. Have I ever told you that?”
“Once or twice.” He was quiet for a moment. “So does this mean you’renotgetting divorced?”
I ran my fingers through my hair and scratched the back of my neck. “I don’t know what it means.” My phone beeped, indicating an incoming call. I glanced at the screen. It was the restaurant. “Hey, Grant, I gotta go. Work stuff.”
“No problem, friend. I’d tell you to have fun, but it sounds like you already are.”
I rolled my eyes and ended the call, switching to pick up the one from Hidden Cove. “This is Oliver.”
“Chef, hi. I’m so sorry to bother you at home.” It was Cara, her words tumbling out in a rush, her voice trembling as if she were on the verge of tears. “Jeremiah said you weren’t to be bothered but I didn’t know what else to do. He said you’d really want to hear from him and insisted on getting your number. He was very persistent.”
“Cara, slow down. Who was persistent?” My brow furrowed in confusion. Was it a reporter?
“Mr. Newton. He said—”
Realization hit me and Cara’s voice faded into the background for a moment. Cam didn’t have any way to call me directly. I had his number written down when he’d given it to me, but I’d called him from the restaurant, and I hadn’t saved it in my cell or given him my personal number. “Cara, it’s okay. I actually have his number already. I’ll give him a call now.”
“You’re sure? I know you don’t typically interact with guests on your personal time.”
Cara was right. We’d had some incredibly insistent guests in the past and when Shane was around, he’d had no issue giving out my personal cell number and encouraging them to call me at all hours. When he’d left, it was one of the changes I’d implemented immediately. There was to be absolutely no contact between guests and the staff on their personal time. No wonder she’d been afraid of how I’d react.
“I’m sure. I’ll handle it, okay?”
“Yes, Chef.” She read off the number and a moment later, I hung up and texted Cam.
Oliver: This is Oliver. I hear my husband is terrorizing my staff.
I included a winking emoji with my text to let him know I wasn’t mad and hit send. His reply was nearly instant.
Cam: Well if you weren’t so hard to get in touch with, I wouldn’t have had to terrorize your staff, husband.
Warmth settled over me as I read his text. I stared at the screen for a moment, deciding how to respond. Before I had a chance to say anything, Cam’s next text came in.
Cam: I thought we had a date tonight?
Oliver: I know you had dinner, but have you had dessert? I can make something for you. Here’s my address.
Cam: A hot chef making me dessert in his home? Yes please. Do you think I’ll get lucky after?
Oliver: I’d say you can count on it.
Cam: Can’t wait. See you soon.
True to his word, Cam arrived about a half hour later, grinning as I answered the door. He looked incredible, wearing tight black jeans and a two-toned gray button-down that was nicely fitted to his lean body. I noticed the shiny gold band on his left ring finger and it both warmed me and sent a bolt of possessive lust through me. I exhaled sharply, feeling woefully inadequate in my soft blue jeans and band t-shirt. At least I had my ring on, too.
“Wow, you look…” I shook my head, no words coming to me.
He raised his eyebrows, his grin turning into a smirk. “Oh yeah?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” We stood like that for a moment before I realized I was being stupid. “Come on in.” Tenderloin appeared in the entryway, meowing and purring up a storm as she weaved between my feet. “Please ignore her. She’s only here because she’s hoping you’ll give her some attention. The minute you do, she’ll bite you and run away.”
Cam laughed. “What’s her name?”
I shut the door as he entered and led the way to the kitchen. “Tenderloin.”
His soft laugh flooded my body with heat. “Of course it is.”
