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What exactly she was sorry for was of no interest to him because he was already heading for the kitchen, pushing the pain away with every step.
“So am I.”
Twenty-Eight
Jack leaned against the counter in DeLuca’s kitchen and rested his eyelids. Better that than watch Cara tallying the votes. Better that than watch Lili drawing ever-decreasing circles on the weathered countertop he had admired so much three nights ago. Had it only been three nights? Near the burners, Tony exuded enough negative vibes that there was a fair to middling chance their respective energy fields would clash and detonate. He hadn’t said a word so far but Il Duce was primed to go ballistic. Jack wouldn’t have blamed him one bit.
His muscles ached. His bones felt like they’d been squeezed through a pasta roller. His nerves were blunted to the point of numbness. Jules was going to have a baby, and for some fucked up reason, she’d decided he had to know this very minute instead of waiting for him to get to London tomorrow. And Lili had pushed a shiv between his ribs, suddenly and without warning.
Cara had begged him to finish the service (for the customers, Jack) and until Laurent stilled Jack’s arm while he was plating the desserts, he had assumed it was all going without a hitch. Spaced out, he had created a pyramid of gelato scoops so high, that if toppled, it could have leveled Moscow.
Cara smoothed out the ballots and raised her ice blues to Jack. “Forty-three in favor of Chef Kilroy. Sixty-two for Chef DeLuca. Jack, it’s your call. We can do a little creative editing with the reaction shots—” She snuck a glance at her father who wore an expression like a smacked arse. Quality reaction shots there. “—and declare you the winner. You do have final edit.”
“Or final say on whether an episode airs at all,” Jack said.
Cara’s mouth registered a pained patience, like he was being the difficult one here. This family didn’t just take the cake, they ransacked the entire bloody bakery.
“Of course, if that’s how you want to play it,” his producer said, but he’d worked with her long enough to recognize the skitter in her voice when something bothered her. She was scared. The success of the show, her job, and the future of her family’s restaurant were all on the line here. No pressure.
Lili rubbed her collarbone in that way she had when she got distressed. Her gaze met his, willing him to understand. To accept that her family had good reasons for what they did. Tough, he had already run out of fucks to give.
“Is my sister all right?” he bit out.
Lili nodded and hugged herself, possibly protecting herself from the chill he projected. “Mom came by and picked her up. She’s probably asleep by now.” The heat and humidity of the kitchen had expanded her hair and painted a sheen of perspiration on her face. Looking at her was like staring into the sun.
He still wanted her, all of her, and he hated himself for that.
Anger solidified into a hot, raging mass beneath his breastbone. Someone had taken advantage of his sister and the woman before him had tried to take advantage of him. He had worked in this business long enough that he shouldn’t have been surprised when users latched onto him for personal gain. His ex only wanted the blistering flash of their grease fire celebrity pairing. His sister only sought him out when she was up a creek, paddle AWOL. His father… Christ, John Sullivan only emerged from his whiskey-sodden haze when the barrel ran dry. And now Lili and a murder of scheming DeLucas, not satisfied with the free publicity they were already getting, had determined that humiliating the notorious chef would make a nice notch on the marketing campaign bedpost.
Tony stepped away from the stove. Nuclear fission imminent.
“I knew this was trouble from the beginning,” he said, his gaze passing over Jack. “We did not need the publicity. We did not need this show.”
Tony had finally elected to grace them with his two million lire. Good thing Jack clenched his fists right then, otherwise he might have started a slow, sarcastic clap.
Lili’s expression resolved to panic. “Dad, there’s already been a ton of publicity.” Sure has, sweetheart, and how much of it was crafted by la famiglia and co.?
“Everyone knows the episode was taping here. If it doesn’t air, there’ll be questions, rumors about what happened. It would be a PR nightmare. We need the show, but Jack should win the challenge, of course.”
“Brava for coming up with a solution that lets me save face, love,” he murmured. Hurt she had no right to blemished her face, making him angrier.
Tony’s color had darkened to aubergine. “You are not in a position to make decisions, Liliana. I do not know what has got into you lately. This would never have happened when your mother was in charge, if you had been keeping your eye on the staff instead of otherwise distracted.”
That was a more colorful version of what Jack had said an hour ago. The discomfort on her face deepened to a pain that seared his soul.
Toughen up, Kilroy. He refused to care if she came apart.
Cara chimed in. “Dad, she fired Gina the minute she found out what happened.”
Jack’s head snapped back so hard a nerve in his neck pinched. “You did?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lili said dully, eyes on the floor. All the spirit had left her body at Tony’s reprimand.
Cara squeezed her sister’s arm. “Lili did what she could to contain it but that won’t stop me from murdering the poisonous dwarf when I see her next. Now, I think we can all agree that it’s been a very unusual evening.” She delivered a pointed look at Jack. Apparently he should accept a portion of the blame because his sister had elected to put in a show-stopping arrival. “Jack, babe, it’s down to you.”
Her usual cajolery was not going to fly. “Cara, don’t think you can produce your way out of this. You dumped me into this situation and neglected to mention your family’s financial problems, or how desperate you all are to get your fifteen minutes.” He left out the gem about how she had set him up to service her sister like he was a prize stud horse. Tony already had the shotgun; Jack wasn’t going to offer to load it.
“Jack, the show was in a fix,” Cara said, still with that easy soothe no different from Lili. This woman was skating close to the drop. “We needed another location stat.”
