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Flavor of the Month
“A restaurant owner who would like to place an order,” he answered, grinning.
“Oh. Just a minute.”
Was it him, or did she sound disappointed?
“Sugar ’n’ Spice.”
Ah, Reilly. “Good morning. How are you and your underpants doing this morning, Ms. Reilly?”
“Oh, God.” He heard the squeak of door hinges and guessed she’d ducked into the kitchen of the shop. “I can’t believe you’re calling me here.”
“Where would you have me call you?”
“Nowhere. Ever again. Just let me die in peace without remembering what happened last night.”
Ben carried the phone to the end of the bar. “Don’t you mean what didn’t happen?”
“That, too.” He heard her swallow hard. “Look, is there something specific you wanted?”
“Why?”
“Why? Well, because…because, I have a long line of people waiting for service and my niece Tina is giving me the evil eye.”
“The evil eye?”
“It’s a Greek thing. Oh, never mind.”
“Actually, there is a reason I’m calling.”
A pause. “And?”
“And what?”
“And the reason is?”
“I’d like to repeat yesterday.”
“Repeat yesterday as in…”
“As in…everything.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“I thought you’d already agreed to supply desserts for the restaurant until I could find a replacement pastry chef.”
“Oh, that. Of course. My word is my bond.”
Ben’s grin widened. His own personal motto.
“And you’ll be finishing up at midnight?”
“No.”
The grin left his face. “What time will you be finishing, then?”
“Around six.”
“Good then, I’ll—”
“You’ll nothing. I’m going out.”
Ben knew a heartbeat of hesitation along with an unhealthy helping of jealousy. “Do I know him?”
“Her.”
Ben’s brows rose.
“Well, that sounded good, didn’t it?” She laughed. “Her as in my fifteen-year-old niece, Efi. We have a longstanding date for a night in front of the television tonight. Just us, some popcorn and a stack of DVDs.”
“I could cater for you.”
“No!”
“Didn’t like the food?”
He heard a gusty sigh. “The food was great, Ben. Thanks for bringing it. It’s just…”
He sat down on a stool on the other side of the bar, reminding him of how she’d looked sitting on a similar stool in her kitchen, blindfolded and oh so hot for him. “It’s just…what?”
Another sigh. “It’s just that I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to see each other…personally again.”
“Again? As in never again?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not acceptable.”
She didn’t say anything and for a moment he was afraid she’d hung up.
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