A Dash of Love. Liz Isaacson

now she knew. She knew she’d insulted him last night, spilled coffee on him this morning, and tried to instruct him about the hours of the restaurant where he’d cooked for five years.

      Pure panic poured through her expression. A healthy blush colored her face, and Paul ducked his head so she wouldn’t have to experience any more humiliation than necessary.

      Holly grabbed the flap of his jacket and examined his shirt. He glanced down too, realizing he’d have to work the next twelve hours in a damp, coffee-stained shirt.

      “For God’s sake, Paul, can’t you wear a clean shirt to work?” Holly gave him a dirty look and entered the restaurant, leaving Paul standing on the sidewalk with the reason for his predicament.

      He looked at Nikki, and she stared back, clearly upset and not knowing what to do about any of it. It had been a long time since he’d been out with a woman, but something stirred within him, and he wondered if she might be worth the trouble of an unintended insult and a stained shirt.

      She finally drew a deep breath and followed Holly. Paul waved at nothing, sighed, and had no choice but to get to work, coffee stains, beautiful women, and all.

Chapter Six

      Nikki had never been so mortified. Even when Ryan had ended their relationship on Valentine’s Day and abandoned her to walk home alone. Even when she’d babbled about the encounter to the Silent Supervisor. Even when she’d been caught eavesdropping on a very private conversation.

      No, none of those came close to telling the executive chef of a five-star restaurant—who surely had a culinary degree—that he needed to be replaced.

      You didn’t know it was him, she told herself as she followed Holly through the restaurant. But that didn’t matter. She shouldn’t have said anything, and once again, her tongue had gotten her in trouble.

      The scent of coffee and cologne followed her, the smell belonging to Paul and infusing every breath she took. She wished he wasn’t quite so good looking. Didn’t smell quite so delicious. Didn’t work here as the executive chef.

      Holly opened the door to her office, and all of Nikki’s problems about Paul disappeared. She’d never seen anything like this. The restaurant, with its custom furniture and low lighting, was without a single fork out of place. Holly’s office was the antithesis of that.

      A wall supported three filing cabinets, and on top of those sat more filing boxes in green and blue. Several metal shelving units held more boxes, and Nikki saw another cabinet and a tall stand of lockers—which she really hoped didn’t contain paper of any kind—beside Holly’s desk.

      It was an absolute mess. And shining in the middle of all of it stood a black bookshelf with several gold trophies.

      “Well, here we are.” Holly paused at her desk and set her purse down. “Uh, you can put your things over there.”

      “Okay.” Nikki moved behind her and hung her purse on a hook.

      “And, uh, oh. Before we start, I need for you to pick up my dry cleaning.” Holly handed her a pick-up slip.

      Nikki just stared at it. “Oh, uh—”

      “And when you get back, I’ll have a couple of other errands for you to run.”

      This wasn’t exactly what Nikki had expected, but then again, she hadn’t known what to expect. “Okay, sure. Absolutely.” She glanced at the dry cleaning slip. “Whatever you need.” She re-zipped her coat, as she’d apparently be wearing it for a while longer.

      After she’d walked the three blocks to the dry cleaner and the three blocks back to the restaurant, Nikki lamented her choice of footwear. Holly promptly sent her to the bank, the post office, and finally, to take her car through the car wash.

      It was still raining, so Nikki really didn’t know what the point of washing the car was. But Holly wanted it done, so Nikki did it.

      Finally, Holly taught her how to get on the computer, where the files were, and gave her a few folders with papers to input. Nikki was used to working long hours on her feet but quickly learned that hours behind a desk came with its own set of problems.

      Just before the restaurant opened, she stood and worked the kinks out of her shoulders and neck. She had not properly carbo-loaded or caffeinated for this day. She went out to the restaurant and poured herself a cup of coffee.

      She’d no sooner taken one sip and turned when Paul approached, wearing a black chef’s coat and a black-and-white striped apron around his trim waist. Her heart pumped out an extra beat.

      “Whoa. Danger! Lady with a coffee coming through.” He held up both hands and gave her a winning smile that showed off his white teeth.

      Instant foolishness filled her. “Do you want some?”

      “Yeah, as long as it’s in a cup and not down my shirt.” He gestured to his chest, and Nikki had no choice but to notice how tall he was, how broad his shoulders spanned, and how snugly his clothes fit.

      “Right.” Nikki turned to pour him a cup of coffee, telling herself he was off-limits. Number one, she’d insulted him right to his face. Number two, Angela had said Holly didn’t allow her employees to date. Still, she remembered that he’d gotten bad news last night, and he’d still been kind to her in the same moment she was insulting him. She glanced over her shoulder. “How come you didn’t tell me who you were last night?”

      “Somehow, I doubt that would have stopped you from speaking your mind.” He wore a playful smile when she turned.

      “You’re probably right.” If she was going to work with this man, they needed to get along. It seemed like he’d already forgiven her for the slight against his food, and she smiled at him. “But at least I wouldn’t have put my foot in my mouth.”

      Paul didn’t seem annoyed today, though he had been last night. He’d tried to hide it, but Nikki had noticed. He took a deep breath as his smile faded. “Truth is, you were right about the cassoulet. It was bland.”

      Nikki was about to protest when Holly stepped right between them. She looked at Paul, her stone-faced mask in place. “Nikki, come with me.”

      It was impossible to know if she was in trouble or not. Or maybe she’d gotten Paul in hot water again. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be out of the kitchen this close to opening time. Maybe this coffee wasn’t free.