Samson wondered where her head was, not because he was concerned about whether Bill had succeeded in making up ground but how she was feeling about Bill’s weak explanation.
“You okay?”
She nodded, looking distracted like she had since they’d picked her up that evening.
“This is me you’re talking to, chiquita. What’s the matter?” He squeezed her gently, and she smiled up at him, those warm brown eyes of her showing their usual sparkle. “Do you think he had a point?”
With a smirk, she said, “I think in his mind he did think that would somehow justify what he’d said. He was an idiot if he listened to anything his father told him about women and hysterectomies, and if I’d had a husband who looked at any part of my body with disgust, especially a scar that I couldn’t help having, I wouldn’t want to have sex with him either. What is with all the ignorant men in this town? Have none of them heard of the Internet? Hormone replacement? Robotic surgery?”
Samson much preferred the flush of irritation and frustration in her cheeks over her introspective quiet.
“None of them listen. Not a fucking one.”
He didn’t know whether to cheer her on or worry at the spark of temper and, given his own track record, decided less was more. Just let her talk. But hoping to make her smile, he said, “So what you’re saying is Ivan and I have competition?”
“No!” she said and then burst into laughter, the first he’d seen all evening. “Hell no. It’s just been an eventful day, smarty-pants. You’d struggle, too.”
“I hope for Bill’s sake he doesn’t show up here tonight.”
She mumbled to herself, as if promising retribution, and then said, “And then there’s Hermione’s cordial visit to process.”
“Oh, baby, you gotta know that gal is a little nuts. She fancies herself a food celebrity, and she enjoys putting on airs. She showed up at your place because she’s threatened by ‘the competition’ for Ivan. That’s all.”
“It’s not so much the way she treated me that pisses me off. It’s the fact she showed up at my place of business and treated me like an interloper. I would never in a million years have done such a thing. Do you think maybe she has feelings for Ivan?”
Samson took a few seconds to mull her question over. “I’ve not spent as much time around her as Ivan, obviously. When he went to work for her and I found out from friends how”—Bitchy—“mercurial she can be, I asked him what she was like. He seemed to think she was great to work for, but she didn’t like it when other restaurateurs asked for him after eating in the restaurant, as if she was afraid he might jump ship for a better offer.”
“Well, she looked around my place as if she’d walked into a dump.”
“From what he said, and the way she acted today, I’d say she has a possessive streak.” He thought of Cassie’s words to Jillian at the club and smiled. “Not that possessiveness is all bad. I think, with Hermione, everything is taken to extreme. Let him handle her, if and when he gives her notice he’s leaving.” He already knew that was Ivan’s intention but thought it best to let Ivan be the one to speak on the issue.
Back at the table, they continued the conversation, and Cassie turned to Ivan and said, “What about the contract she mentioned?”
Ivan smirked. “It’s yearly, and up for renewal—or not—at the beginning of March. Not that far off. She overheard me talking with a friend on the phone about you and your place, and I guess she thought a pre-emptive strike was in order. I’ve known her for a few years so I could spot the embellishments in her version of the story right away. I’ve always viewed the contract as a formality because I’ve been happy at Hermione—up until today, anyway. I draw the line at her insinuating she knows me intimately. I would never have sex with a boss.”
Cassie chuckled as she beckoned him closer. “So I guess that means I won’t get to boss you around my kitchen?”
Ivan gave her a quick kiss. “I’d make an exception for you, baby. You can boss me anywhere you want to.”
She pecked him back with a “Rowr,” and then turned her attention to Samson. “Speaking of bossy types…”
“Yes?” Samson said, arching his brow and drawing out the single syllable.
“I wondered if you were planning on ever showing your dominating side again.”
Samson chuckled. “I’ve been attempting to give you time to get used to us first. The Domination and everything else can take a backseat for a while.”