Bricker hesitated, but then whipped out his phone.
"Who are you calling?" Cale asked with a scowl.
"Mortimer," Bricker answered quietly. "I do have a job, you know. I can't just disappear for the night without checking with him first."
Cale relaxed a bit, relieved that the man was at least willing. This was one hell of a debacle, one he wasn't even sure how he'd landed in, but he was confident that between the two of them they could handle things. He'd do his best at cooking, and Bricker would ensure that the customers thought they were happy. Then, the minute he was away from here, he'd start calling around to find someone else to take his place, or better yet, find someone to take the original chef's place permanently. Alex would think him a hero, and Cale could woo her ... and explain later that he wasn't really a chef and didn't own a restaurant.
He was just relaxing, thinking his problems mostly resolved if he could just get through this night without poisoning anyone, when a gasp from Alex drew his attention. She'd moved to his "station" to look at his Trout Amandine and appeared rather horrified byhis and Bricker's efforts. Cale instinctively tried to slip into her mind to control her, but of course he couldn't. He turned to Bricker in a panic. Fortunately, the man had already noticed. He muttered something into the phone, and then lowered it briefly and slid into Alex's thoughts to steer her away from the dish. He left her standing blank-faced in the center of the kitchen as he turned back to his call.
Cale sighed and then took a moment to glance at the others in the kitchen. None of them seemed to have noticed. The other cooks were all bustling around, getting their dishes together under Bev's eagle eye. He suspected he was the one who was supposed to be overseeing the other cooks, but the sous-chef had taken over the chore without prompting, ensuring that the rest of the kitchen ran smoothly. The woman definitely seemed to know what she was about. Perhaps he should suggest Alex promote Bev to chef de cuisine, and then hire another sous-chef. Surely those were easier to find than a head chef.
"Right." Bricker snapped his phone closed and urged Cale back toward Alex. "Mortimer says it's all right for me to stay tonight, but we're going to have to work something else out for tomorrow."
Cale merely nodded. He had no intention or desire to be doing this two nights in a row anyway. He would find a replacement chef for Alex if he had to call in every favor owed him, he thought grimly, and then turned his attention to Alex as Bricker said, "Everything is in order here, Alex. I will help out and wait tables tonight, and Cale is an excellent chef. Everything will be fine.
You should really just go about whatever it is you need to do and leave things to us without worrying."
Cale wasn't terribly surprised when Alex woodenly agreed and turned to walk into her office. Sighing with relief, he turned to his station and the waiting orders. "So, what's the next order?"
Bricker snorted at the question. "That's your problem, buddy. I'm waiting tables now, remember?"
Cale glanced at him with alarm. "But-"
"Just follow the recipes. If it's something like the Trout Amandine and you don't know what to do, slip into Bev's mind and get the answer," he suggested, heading for the door to the dining room.
Cale opened his mouth to protest again, but both he and Bricker halted as Alex suddenly came out of her office, shifting her purse and a stack of papers from hand to hand as she shrugged on a winter coat.
"Where are you going?" Cale asked with surprise.
"To the new restaurant," she explained hurriedly, heading for the door at the back of the kitchen. "You and Bricker have everything in hand here and there's nothing to worry about, so I need to get back to the new restaurant. They were waiting on the paint when I left and I have to be sure the right color arrived. I'll check back here at closing time. See you then."
Cale gaped after her as she pushed through the back door. A gust of wind rushed into the room, and then the door closed, and she was gone. He stared blankly for a minute, and then turned sharply on Bricker.
"Hmm," the younger man said with a frown. "That's a rather startling development."
"Startling?" Cale ground out with fury. "The only reason I let you convince me to try to cook was to be close to her, and she's not even going to be here."
"Yeah. That's kind of ironic, huh?" Bricker said with a shake of the head. Cale was just winding up to blast the immortal, when Bricker commented, "On the bright side, you don't look as green as you did when we first got here. I take it the smell of food isn't bothering you anymore?"
Cale stiffened and took a moment to check himself. There was no nausea, no distaste for the smells wafting in the air around him. He inhaled a deep breath to be sure, but no, it appeared the scent of food no longer repulsed him. Actually, some of the smells in the room even seemed slightly pleasant, he realized with surprise.
"I told you," Bricker said smugly. He chuckled and turned toward the door to the dining room, adding, "Welcome to the land of the living. Now get cooking."
Alex felt incredibly relaxed for the first time in weeks as she drove from one restaurant to the other. She had a real and very hunky French chef serving up her recipes, Bricker was filling in for the missing waitress, and all was right with her world. She continued to feel happy and worry-free right up until she arrived at the new restaurant and entered to find the painters busily painting the dining area.
The papers Alex was carrying slipped from her fingers, and a curse slid from her lips as she peered in horror at the three lime green walls already done.
While the curse she'd used was one that would have made her mother wince, the painters didn't react to it at all and carried on working.
"Stop," she said finally. "Stop dammit!"
One of the painters shifted on his ladder to dip his roller in more paint, and it was only then Alex noted the earbuds in his ear. Her gaze slid to the other two painters to see that they wore them as well. All three were listening to iPods or some other small MP3 player and hadn't heard her.
Cursing colorfully again, Alex rushed forward to tug at the pant leg of the nearest man. Startled, he nearly tumbled from the ladder but caught himself at the last moment. Ripping the buds from his ears, he scowled at her furiously. His name was Bill, and he was a big burly guy, intimidating as hell ... or he would have been if she weren't in such a temper.
"What the hell are you trying to do? Kill me?" he barked.
"No, but you're killing me," Alex snapped back and waved toward the painted walls. "What is this?"