Page 72 of Kitchen Boss


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I almost feel sorry for him.

As for how I feel about myself, I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out what just happened.

One moment someone was saying I killed Trisha and the next he was saying it was all a lie. So I’m not responsible for Trisha’s death?

“Hey.” Gina pats my shoulder. “Keep that head up. Everything’s alright now.”

I give her a smile. “Thank you.”

I have a feeling that if not for her, someone would be dragging me to jail right now.

“Thank you, Gina,” my mother echoes. “I owe you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I owed you. And now, that debt is paid.”

My mother gives her a hug.

“Congratulations.”

I turn my head and see Jackson standing in front of me. Is it okay for me to face him now?

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and look away. “What for? I didn’t win anything.”

“But now the charge against you has been dismissed,” he says. “Not that I ever thought it wouldn’t be.”

The corners of my lips turn up into a soft smile. “Thank you for all those things you said. For trying to convince everyone that I would never do a thing to hurt Trisha.”

“They weren’t the only ones I was trying to convince.”

I lift my head and meet his gaze. The warmth in his eyes takes my breath away.

“I don’t understand.” I shake my head. “I thought we broke up. I pushed you away. I – ”

“Do you really think you can get rid of me so easily?” Jackson asks me as he places a hand on my cheek. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

I blush.

“Besides, you might have broken up with me, but my feelings for you haven’t changed.”

My eyes grow wide as the warmth on my face spreads to my chest. My heart does somersaults. Jackson… still loves me?

I place my hand over his and press his palm against my cheek as I put all the warmth in me into a smile.

He takes my hand. “Shall we get out of here and grab something to eat? You look like you could use some food, and I happen to know this great restaurant in Milwaukee.”

Chapter 20

Jackson

“This is good.”

I watch Cathy as she gobbles up her second serving of risotto with wild mushrooms, tomatoes and bits of venison braised in red wine.

She looks like she hasn’t eaten in a month. Well, I suppose it has been about a month since she had that nightmare and started getting restless and acting distant. Thankfully, that seems over now. Or so I hope.

“You should serve something like this at the restaurant,” Cathy recommends.

“You mean steal my friend’s recipe? No, thank you.” I take a sip of wine.

She eats a few more spoonfuls, then sets down her spoon. “How is the restaurant? Are there still a lot of customers?”

“Of course,” I answer. “The lines are still long during lunch and dinner.”

Cathy’s face turns serious. “I’m sorry I left so suddenly.”

“It’s fine. You couldn’t help it. You had a case you had to deal with.”

Her eyebrows crease. “But I left even before…”

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “Everything at the restaurant is going as well as can be, though of course not as well as when you’re around.”

She snorts as she picks up her spoon. “I’m sure everything’s perfect. What could possibly go wrong with Ken there?”

I shrug. “I burned a piece of salmon. And a piece of steak.”

Cathy’s eyes grow wide. “You did not.”

“I did.” I take another sip of the wine before setting it down. “Well, not for the customers, just for me, but yeah. That wouldn’t have happened if you were around.”

I meant it as a compliment, but Cathy’s frown lets me know she takes it differently.

“I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “My point is that I need you there. The restaurant needs you, and I think even Ken needs you there.”

“She must be mad at me for disappearing like that.”

“No.” I recall the last conversation I had with her. “She’s worried about you. She wants you back as soon as possible.”

Cathy wipes the corner of her mouth with the table napkin. “Then I’ll be sure to make things up to her when I get back.”

“You do that.”

I should thank her, too. If not for Ken’s advice, I wouldn’t be here now.

Cathy takes a sip of water. “How’s Maisie?”

“Ken brings her to and from daycare and the Hendersons watch her at night,” I answer. “She misses you terribly, though. She keeps that bracelet you gave her above her pillow.”

“Trisha’s bracelet,” Cathy mumbles.

“And she’s been asking about you all the time. See, you’ve already made a home in her heart. In both our hearts.”

Cathy says nothing, though I think she’s also recalling that argument we had before she left. I hope she doesn’t think the same way now.

I reach for her hand. “Cathy…”

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