Romance Impossible(58)

"From what I hear, he's not that much of a stuffed shirt," Lydia piped up.

"Oh, right," said Tom, his voice growing louder. "He's just eccentric. A nice way of saying filthy rich with a social disorder."

"I don't collect my fingernails," said a voice from the doorway. "If that helps."

We all turned, slowly, and the blood drained from Tom's face.

"When I said I was coming right over, I really did mean 'right over,'" Daniel Thorne said, with a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. "Just wanted to tweak the menu a little bit."

"I'm..." Tom started to say, but Thorne silenced him with a raised hand.

"I've heard much worse," he said. "Let's forget about it and start over. I didn't know you had a celebrity guest."

I realized, belatedly, that he was talking about me.

"Just visiting," I said, stepping forward to shake his hand. "But hopefully I can be of some help."

Thorne looked around the room. "I was working with Chef Andrew," he said. "Is he not in today?"

"We've had some staff changes," I said smoothly, stepping forward and leading Thorne into the back office area. "Chef Andrew has moved on. But I'll be happy to take over where he left off."

"I see." Thorne nodded, slowly, like he was taking his time processing this information. It was funny - I'd seen a thousand pictures of the man, and I had a device he'd invented in my pocket. But I'd never given him much thought before. Not as a person. I'm as guilty of that as the rest of the world, sometimes, I suppose.

He was handsome, if you liked that sort of thing - features that were sharp but almost boyish. I felt like his face would light up if I started talking about Nintendo games. And there was something else, too, under the surface. A low level of discomfort. He was encountering something unexpected, and his programming had to take a moment to adjust. To find a new protocol.

"Jill," I called out, and she came over quickly, holding her face in a very neutral smile. "Would you please start going over my new menu with the staff while I work with Mr. Thorne here?"

She nodded, and left. I forced myself to turn my attention back to the man who was laying out thousands of dollars for our catering services.

"I have to admit," Thorne was saying, "it's...somewhat of a relief that you're here. I wasn't..." He paused, considering his words for a moment. "I wasn't blown away by Chef Andrew's menu."#p#分页标题#e#

"I'm very sorry to hear that," I said. "I'm here to whip this place into shape, if I'm being perfectly honest, Mr. Thorne. I'm sure you heard the news."

"I did indeed." He nodded, that hint of a smile coming back. "My wife is a fan of yours."

His wife - I remembered when all that happened, a few years back. She was a former employee of his, who married him after a hasty courtship among many rumors of gold-digging and his questionable citizenry.

"Please, do tell her to come down and say hello if she'd like," I said.

"She'd be far too nervous," said Thorne. "And anyway, is that really in my best interests, Chef?"

He was still smiling, but fixing me with an unnervingly steady gaze.

I took a risk by laughing. Thankfully, he laughed too, a small soft chuckle that broke the tension.

"Sorry," he said. "That was a bad joke."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Do you have a copy of the menu?"

He produced it from his coat pocket, and we went to work.





***



"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Thorne glanced at me. "You can," he said. "I might tell you to fuck off, though."

Things were going well. I'd expected to lock horns with him, always assuming he was a nerd with a complex and a constant need for macho posturing to remind himself of his value in the world. But my armchair analysis failed me, and I found he was friendly and honest, with a touch of something wicked underneath the surface.

I liked him.

"Fair enough," I said, speaking a little more quietly. We were separate from the rest of the staff, but still close enough that I was mindful. "You married an employee, didn't you?" Don't glance at Jill, don't glance at Jill, DON'T GLANCE AT JILL.

"How'd you know?" he said, dryly. "Lower your voice, there might be some un-contacted tribes in Peru who haven't heard the news."

"All right, all right." I considered my next question carefully. "But did you...I mean, how did you handle the backlash?"

Thorne crossed his arms, still with that slight smile. "I suspect you know at least as much about negative press as I do," he said. "If not more. What are you really asking?"