I lean back in my chair, utterly deflated by this news.
“Are you talking about Henry’s Restaurant Supply in Poughkeepsie?” Alice asks.
Ollie’s eyes widen. “Yeah. Do you know them?”
Alice nods. “Of course. I’ve known Hank for years. I don’t have an account with him, but I’m sure I can get him to hold whatever it is you need. You want me to give him a call?”
Ollie lets out an enormous sigh of relief. “Oh, my God. Yes! Please. That would be amazing.”
My chest fills with an emotion that can only be described as pride as Ollie and Alice huddle together, their attentions focused on Alice’s mobile phone as she makes a call using the speakerphone.
A deep voice, with what sounds like—to my English ears—a thick New York accent, answers on the other end. “Henry’s. What can I do you for?”
“Hank, it’s Alice Lopez. I—”
“Alice! Hey, long time no see, sweetheart. How are things?”
Ollie and I try not to appear too impatient as we wait for Alice and Hank to get through the niceties of a greeting between two seemingly long-lost friends. I also have to work to keep my creeping possessiveness at bay as I listen to the mildly flirtatious tone she uses to butter him up.
Finally, after what seems like an hour but is probably closer to three minutes, Alice mentions Forked and the conversation Hank had with Ollie earlier.
“Do you think you can hold the proofing cabinet for me for a few days? Just until we can get someone out there to pick it up?” she asks, and my insides roar with jealousy as puts on a girlish tone to play up the flirtatiousness.
“I wish I could, sweetheart, but you know the policy. I only do holds on scratch-and-dents for customers with terms. But…” His voice trails off as he seems to consider something. “I guess, for you, I can hold it until closing tonight, but no later than that. And only if you’re the one who picks it up. Does that work for you?”
Alice beams, the joy in her face matching my own excitement. “That’s perfect!” she says, then she turns to me as she seems to remember I’m the one who has to pick up the cabinet if I also want to create an account. “Is that okay with you?”
I nod and the hairs on my arms stand on end as I watch her hash out the particulars with Hank. Alice and I will have to make the long drive to Poughkeepsie together.
“Thank you,” I say as she tucks her phone in her pocket.
She smiles, looking uneasy with my gratitude. “Don’t thank me yet. You still need to fight traffic to get there before closing, which is in…”—she glances at the clock on the wall—“…three and a half hours. It will be tight with traffic, but we should make it in time.”
“I can drive you guys,” Ollie offers enthusiastically. “I have an EZ-Pass for the parkway.”
“No,” I interject, perhaps too abruptly. “I mean, you can’t. I need you to hold down the fort while I’m gone.”
“Are you sure?” Ollie says. “Seems like you might not want to take that kind of risk today.”
“I thought your check engine light came on yesterday,” I reply, blurting the first thought that comes to mind.
Ollie appears confused for a moment, then, “Oh, yeah! I can’t believe I almost forgot about that.” She turns to Alice and lets out a brief snorting chuckle. “Imagine the three of us getting stuck upstate in my clunker.”
“I’ve endured worse,” Alice says with a wry smile, and I can’t figure out if she’s referring to Edward or me. Or both of us.
Regardless, the thought of riding in the rear seat of Ollie’s car while Ollie and Alice sit together up front, bonding over American things, makes me rather uncomfortable.
I can already hear the conversation in my head.
Does it feel dodgy driving on the right side of the road, Ethan?
You’ve really never heard this song before?
Why do they call it cookery school in the UK and culinary school in France?
I also find myself feeling protective of Alice. I brought her into this situation. Whatever you want to call it—a career opportunity or a setup—she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. And I wouldn’t know her if it weren’t for my brother.
Though, I still can’t quite figure out what happened between the two of them. I know what Edward told me and what he told the trade papers. But I can’t stop thinking about what Alice said yesterday.
I may not have done my research on you, but clearly you have been woefully misinformed about me.
Was there more to their breakup than I’ve gathered through my limited sources?
The other reason I don’t want Ollie tagging along is not quite as noble. The thought of Alice becoming closer with Ollie than me awakens that primitive possessiveness inside me.
It doesn’t help that Alice reminds me so much of Priya.
I know this has colored my interactions with Alice thus far. I’ve found myself becoming more frustrated with her than the situation warrants. I can’t help it. She reminds me so much of Priya.
And Priya’s betrayal.
As my mind clambers for a reason not to make this trip with Alice alone, Cristian’s words echo in my mind.
You can hire my daughter as a hostess, but don’t forget she’s a chef. And don’t forget to keep your hands where they belong—on the food. If you find yourself forgetting that, I may find myself making some recommendations about your funding. Are we clear?
Crystal clear, Cristian.
Unfortunately, I’m a man with very particular tastes, and Alice happens to be my favorite flavor.
Chapter 7
ALICE
“I didn’t take you for a truck guy,” I say as Ethan opens the passenger door of an enormous Ford F-350 pickup parked in the underground garage across from the restaurant.
“It belongs to the construction foreman,” he says, sounding slightly offended by my stereotyping of his vehicle preferences.
“Tino? Why are we taking his—Oh, we’re taking this because the cabinet won’t fit in your pretty Lexus.”
He rolls his eyes and pushes the door shut. I resist the urge to watch him through the rear window of the truck’s cab, but when he climbs into the driver’s seat I can’t help myself. He brings a waft of that Eau de Ethan scent into the truck with him, and my eyes become fixated on the muscles in his tattooed forearms as he pulls out of the parking garage.
“What do your tattoos mean?” I ask, partly to break the silence and partly because I’m desperate to know what I’m getting into today.
Is Ethan really different than Edward, or should I be on my guard?
His face breaks into a handsome grin as he merges onto I-95. “That’s a wee bit personal, don’t you think?”
“Just trying to get to know you a little,” I reply, unable to hide the defensiveness in my tone.
“So, you want to get to know me?” he asks.
I suppress a smile. “Isn’t that what strangers usually do when enclosed in a confined space for an extended period of time?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call us strangers.”
“Are you purposely avoiding the question?”