Kiss The Cook

Chapter 16

Melanie sat at the butcher-block table in the Pampered Palate's kitchen, staring into her empty coffee cup. Another hectic dinner rush was over. All she had to do was turn on the dishwasher and lock up.

She didn't think she had the strength to do it.

Burying her face in her hands, she groaned. What day was it? Thursday? Was it only two days since her world had fallen apart?

It felt like a lifetime.

She'd had no idea she could hurt so bad. Yeah, she knew all about pain, thanks to Todd, but she'd found out that Todd had only been a warm-up to the excruciating agony she would suffer at the hands of Christopher Bishop. Once again she was left with a broken heart.

Only this time her soul was shattered as well.

She didn't bother to look up when she heard Nana scrape out the chair opposite her. At least she had Nana. Nana would never betray her. Nana would always be with her, be on her side. She hadn't told her grandmother about Chris's part in the loan fiasco-only that they weren't getting the money.

"How long are you planning to mope?" Nana asked.

Melanie raised her head and peered across the table through gritty eyes. "I don't know. Why?"

"’Cause I'm gettin' tired of it." Nana's lips thinned with clear annoyance. "When I think of the time you're wasting sitting around with a long face, it makes me mad. I haven't got that kind of time to waste. I'm an old person. Jimmy Cricket, I'm so old I don't even buy green bananas. I've mourned with you for two days, but I'm done. Starting now. I'd suggest you wipe that mopey look off your face and get happy."

Tears filled Melanie's eyes. Get happy? She didn't think she'd ever be happy again.

Damn it, how many times was she going to allow herself to be annihilated before she learned her lesson? Well, never again. She was through with men. All of them. Forever. They were nothing but heartbreaking betrayers. She wondered what the requirements were to become a nun.

"You have to pull yourself together," Nana said in a clipped, no-nonsense tone. "Not getting the bank loan isn't the end of the world. We'll try another bank. And if that doesn't work, we'll figure out something else."

"It's not just the loan, Nana," Melanie said quietly, brushing away a tear with the back of her hand.

"Then I'm confused. What's got you in such a funk if not the loan?"

Melanie shook her head and looked down at her lap.

After a moment of silence Nana asked, "Okay, let me guess. It has to do with your young man."

Melanie's heart pinched. "He's not my young man."

"Does he know that?"

"He does now."

Nana huffed out a breath and made a tsking sound. "So you gave him his walking papers. Why? Two days ago you told me you loved him. And he loved you."

"Things changed."

A look of disbelief entered Nana's eyes. "All right. If you didn't want him, and you let him go, then why aren't you happy? Unless you think you made a mistake."

A wave of weary defeat rolled over Melanie. She simply hurt all over. "I didn't make a mistake, Nana. He betrayed me."

A myriad of emotions flashed over her grandmother's face. Surprise, skepticism, confusion, anger.

"Are you sure, honey?" Nana finally asked, reaching out to squeeze Melanie's hand.

Melanie nodded. "Positive. He admitted it."

Nana whistled softly. "Well, I'll be a son of a gun. If he admitted it, then there's no doubt, but I have to say I'm surprised. And mighty disappointed. I never would have pegged him for a cheater."

"He didn't cheat on me, Nana."

"He didn't? Then what the blue blazes did he do to betray you?"

Melanie took a deep breath and told Nana the whole story. When she finished, she felt better. At least now Nana would commiserate with her. Maybe they'd bake a batch of double fudge brownies when they got home. Yeah. She needed chocolate. Brownies covered with Edy's Grand Gourmet Rocky Road ice cream. Hershey's Kisses on the side. Death by chocolate. Suicide by cellulite.

She needed to languish in a huge dose of her grandmother's love, warmth, and support. But when she looked at Nana, her grandmother's expression made her draw back in surprise.

Nana didn't look loving, warm, or supportive.

Nana looked royally pissed.

"It's a sorry day," Nana said in a disgusted tone, "when a grandmother has to call her own granddaughter a horse's patoot, but that's what you are."

Melanie blinked, stunned. Nana had never spoken to her like this. "Why are you angry? What did I do?"

"Doesn't it strike you as ironic that you dumped Todd, with good reason, because he was a lying, cheating, unethical crumb-bum, and now you've dumped Chris because he's honest, upstanding, and ethical?"

"But… but… he didn't tell me about the other restaurant. Because of him we didn't get the loan."

"Phooey. He didn't tell you the minute he found out because he didn't want you working yourself into a frazzle. That sounds thoughtful to me. We didn't get the loan because we're a new business and another business the bank sees as direct competition is opening across the street. It's a simple case of the bank not wanting to take a risk."

"But the bank only knows about the other eatery because of Chris."

"So? You're going to condemn the guy for doing the right thing? And what makes you so sure one of those other accountant fellas or bankers wouldn't have found out anyway?"

"Technically, Chris didn't have to tell-"

"Maybe from a legal standpoint, but what about his ethical side? You're angry at him for not compromising his principles? Good Lord, Melanie, your last man didn't even have principles."

Melanie was starting to feel about two inches tall. "But I asked him if he had to tell-"

"So it was a gray area," Nana broke in. "Big deal. It obviously wasn't a gray area to him. Clearly it would have compromised his integrity to remain silent. Seems to me that's a man worth having." She looked at Melanie over her bifocals. "And you're a horse's patoot."

"But Nana, he… made love to me, knowing that he was going to place my loan in jeopardy. He didn't tell me. He knew for two weeks and never said a word."

"You make it sound like he knew for two years. No doubt he planned to tell you after the bank made its decision."

"That's what he said."

"And you honestly don't believe him?" Nana blew out a breath. "Honey, he made a mistake. He tried to do the right thing and he screwed up. He can't help screwing things up-he's a male and it comes with the territory. Believe me, if a man like that made love to me, I'd certainly give him the benefit of the doubt. Did you?"

Melanie sat stock-still, realization dawning in her. A sick, queasy feeling settled in her gut. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He'd tried to help her. She'd just been so shocked and disappointed, she'd lashed out.

And lost him.

Clapping her hand to her forehead, she wailed, "Oh, Nana! What have I done?"

Nana hrumpphed. "Now that's better. Shame on you for blaming that sweet boy. Appears you have a lot to make up for."

"I was pretty harsh on him." She recalled their phone conversation and cringed. "He might not forgive me."

"You won't know unless you try. Chances are he's feeling as bad as you. Why don't you call him?"

Before Melanie could answer, the phone rang. It was after closing, but she reached for the instrument, hoping it might be Chris.

"Pampered Palate, Gourmet to Go."

"Is Miss Gibson there, please?" asked a vaguely familiar male voice.

"Speaking. Who's calling?"

"This is Vince Peters from Guardian Savings and Loan. I'm glad I caught you before you left for the evening."

The loan officer. The one who'd turned down her loan. Not exactly her favorite guy, but Melanie suppressed an urge to hang up on him.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Peters?"

"I'm calling with good news, Miss Gibson. In light of the additional information provided to me by Waxman, Barnes, Wiffle, and Hodge, and after carefully reevaluating your application, we've decided to approve your loan."

Melanie felt her jaw drop open and her eyes pop wide. They probably made a boing sound.

"I beg your pardon? I thought the additional information caused you to turn down the loan."

Mr. Peters chuckled. "I mean the additional additional information. The loan has been approved."

Melanie was glad she was sitting. Otherwise she would have fallen down with an unladylike splat.

"What information is that?" she asked in a weak voice.

"Why, the information about the dozens of private catering jobs you have scheduled over the next twelve months. I must say, Miss Gibson, when Mr. Waxman faxed me these job orders, it changed the entire complexion of your loan application. Obviously, the Pampered Palate is doing very well and growing fast in the private catering arena. Under those circumstances, Guardian Savings and Loan is happy to assist you. If you'll stop by the bank tomorrow morning, we'll sign the necessary papers. Is that satisfactory?"

Melanie jarred herself out of her stupor. "Yes, Mr. Peters. That's fine."

"Excellent. See you tomorrow. Good-bye."

"’Bye." Melanie slowly replaced the receiver.

Apparently she looked as dazed as she felt because Nana said, "By the look on your face, I'm guessing that was Ed McMahon telling you you're a Publisher's Clearing House winner."

Melanie blew out a long, slow, calming breath. "Even better. That was Mr. Peters from the bank. My loan was approved."

Nana's eyes bugged out. "I thought you said-"

"I did. But he changed his mind." She jumped up and twirled around. "He changed his mind!"

Nana scratched her head and frowned. "That's great, honey. But did he say why?"

Melanie stopped spinning. "He said something about the dozens of catering jobs we have scheduled for the next twelve months."

"What catering jobs?"

Melanie came back to earth with a thump. Good grief, if this was some kind of mistake and Mr. Peters was going to take away the loan, she was going to scream.

"I don't know," Melanie said, "but I'm calling Glenn Waxman. He's the one who told the bank about them."

She dialed Glenn's number, hoping he'd be working late so she wouldn't have to wait until morning for the answers she wanted.

"Glenn Waxman," came a masculine voice.

"Glenn, Melanie Gibson here. I just heard from Mr. Peters at the bank. He said my loan was approved."

"Hey! Congratulations. I'm happy for you."

"He said he changed his mind based on additional information you gave him. Something about future catering jobs?"

"Well, yes. I simply told him about them and faxed him copies of the work orders."

As much as she wanted to remain silent, take her loan, and slink away, Melanie couldn't. Even if it meant losing the loan, she couldn't accept it under false pretenses.

"Glenn, I have to be honest with you. I have no idea what you're talking about. What catering jobs?"

She heard him shuffling papers around. "Let me see," he said. "There's the anniversary party for Mr. Walter Rich and his wife the first weekend in September, a birthday party for Mrs. Lorna Bishop the second weekend in September, a baby shower-"

"Did you say Lorna Bishop?"

"Yes. That's Chris's mother. There're twenty-seven orders in all. Chris faxed them to me from LA this morning."

Once again, Melanie gave thanks that she was sitting. What on earth had Chris done? Guilt hit her like a brick to the back of the head. Good grief. Clearly he felt so bad that she'd lost the loan, he'd made up some elaborate story about her having catering jobs lined up.

She felt awful. Horrible. He'd compromised himself to save her. She loved him for it, but she couldn't let him do it.

"Glenn, there's been a mistake. I know nothing-"

"There's no mistake, Melanie. I spoke to half the people on these job orders-hell, I know half the people on these orders. In fact, I am one. You're booked up the first Saturday in December for my daughter's sweet sixteen. These are legitimate catering jobs. You should start receiving deposit checks within the next couple of days. If you stop by the office tomorrow morning, I'll give you my copies."

"Uh, okay. I'll be there."

"Great. See ya then. 'Bye."

"’Bye." Melanie hung up and stared at Nana. "You're not going to believe this," she said.

"Sure I will. I'm a gullible old lady. I'll believe anything."

Melanie repeated her conversation with Glenn.

"Well," said Nana, a smug look on her face. "How do you like that? Your Chris is not only a hunk, he's a hero, too. Swooped right in and saved his damsel in distress. What do you say about that?"

"Say? What can I possibly say? That I'm a dope and completely misjudged the most wonderful man I've ever met?"

"That's a pretty good start," Nana said with brutal frankness.

"Do you think he'll forgive me?"

Nana thought for a few seconds, then answered, "Seems to me a man who would go to all the trouble of booking two-dozen catering gigs is a man truly in love. I'd say chances are he'll forgive you." A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Of course, if he's as smart as I think he is, he'll make you suffer a bit first, so you'd better be prepared."

A shiver of anticipation zinged through Melanie at the thought of "suffering" at Chris's hands. "Hmmm. Yeah. Got any suggestions?"

"The best defense is always-"

"A great offense?"

"That's right. And take it from someone who's been around the block a few times, a woman's best offense is sexy lingerie. Those sweatpants you wear to bed don't qualify."

A plan-a fiendish plan-took root in Melanie's mind. "I have an idea, Nana."

"I knew you would, honey."

"Wanna help?"

"Does it involve hog-tyin' that handsome sucker?"

Melanie chuckled. "Something like that."

"Count me in, babe. Count me in."