"Bev," she snapped. "I have to see if you've ruined me or not."
"I haven't ruined you," he assured her quickly. "Please, Alex, put that away and hear me out."
"No. I-" She paused and peered at him narrowly. "You cooked the Trout Amandine. It was perfect."
"Er ... yes ... well ..." Cale frowned, trying to decide how best to handle this. Obviously, he shouldhave taken a moment to think this through before opening his damned mouth. His only thought had been that she loved cooking and he enjoyed business, so why not switch and let him help with managing things rather than the cooking? Cale had thought she'd be pleased to get back to cooking and leave the business issues to him. And he suspected she would be, but starting with "I'm not a chef" probably hadn't been the cleverest way to go. Alex wasn't ready for the "I'm not a chef but a vampire" speech, and he couldn't explain that he wasn't really a chef without explaining how he had then managed to keep from ruining her restaurant's reputation tonight.
Jesus, I'm obviously not on my game tonight, Cale acknowledged, and suspected it was this life-mate business that was at fault. Despite Marguerite's "feeling" and Sam's excitement, and even Bricker's taunts, he really hadn't been prepared to walk in there and discover Alex was indeed his life mate ... and he wasn't handling the situation with his usual aplomb. He needed to turn this around and quickly, or he suspected she'd be tossing him out on his ear at any moment.
Before Cale could quite decide how to save the situation, Alex stopped glaring at him to concentrate on the phone as it was obviously answered on the other end.
"I'm sorry I woke you, Bev," Alex said grimly. "But I need to know what happened at the restaurant tonight."
Cale didn't have to hear the woman's voice to know what she would say. They had made sure that neither she nor the other staff was aware of Marguerite and Leigh's presence in the kitchen. Still, he was relievedas he listened to Bev assure Alex that everything had gone like clockwork and Cale had been a great success. Everyone had raved about his food, the woman told her, and one of the city's most respected food critics had been a diner at one of the tables and had been so pleased he'd revealed himself and promised a very complimentary review in Saturday's food section.
Alex was looking more and more confused as the woman spoke, and when she ended the call, she turned that confused look on Cale. Her expression shifted to grim, however, as she slid the phone back into her pocket. "Was that your idea of a joke? Bev said everything went well tonight. Better than well. What-?"
"Just sit down, Alex," Cale interrupted quietly. "I'll explain everything."
She hesitated, but then settled back where she had been. Cale immediately sat across from her, wondering how the hell he was going to explain this ... and then inspiration struck. "I fear my English isn't as good as I would wish, and I occasionally misspeak when trying to explain things."
He was just congratulating himself on coming up with that when she said dubiously, "It sounded pretty clear to me. I am not a chef is pretty plain."
Cale grimaced. "Yes, well, I meant to say that I am not a chef like you. You said cooking was your first love, while business is not. I am the opposite, I love managing the business end of things and would rather not be cooking." When her eyes narrowed, he added, "Unlike you, I was not following a dream when I got into cooking."
But he was actually following a dream when he'd agreed to be the chef Alex needed tonight, he realized. The dream of getting close to and claiming his life mate. It was a lifelong dream, really. One every immortal had.
"I got into cooking due to family pressure," he said. It wasn't exactly a lie. Sam had gotten him into this, and she was Alex's family. If he were lucky, she would be his family soon as well.
"Ah," Alex murmured, nodding solemnly. "I see. A family restaurant ... pressure from the folks to train as a chef and take over the business ..." She nodded again, apparently sure she had it all figured out. "Cooking isn't in your soul, but your blood."
"Blood certainly has a lot to do with my situation," Cale muttered.
"What was that?" Alex asked.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "The point is I really dislike cooking. I prefer the simple logic of business and would much rather tend that end of things for you and leave you to the cooking."
Alex tilted her head slightly, uncertainty on her face. "I really didn't expect you to spend your entire vacation helping out at the restaurant. I thought-well hoped really-that you would be willing to cook for just a couple of nights until I could find someone to replace Peter."
"I am happy to help for as long as it takes," he assured her. "And as the business manager, I would be pleased to take care of the matter of a replacement for Peter if it is necessary."
"If it's necessary?" she asked with surprise.
Cale hesitated, but then decided it might be pushing his luck to tell her he was hoping for a much more permanent situation with her. Besides, if he did manage to convince her to be his life mate, he didn't know what that might mean for both their lives. He had been feeling the need for a change and would be happy to leave his companies in Europe in the hands of his managers, merely overseeing it from Canada as he helped run her restaurants, but Alex might change her mind about the direction of her life. It wasn't uncommon for new life mates to do so.
Shrugging, he merely said, "I will look into available people for the position and leave the final decision up to you."
She relaxed and nodded slowly. Her expression turned thoughtful, and he was sure she was about to agree, but Alex was a businessperson and apparently had learned some caution when it came to such decisions. It seemed that, as tempting as the idea of returning to cooking must be to her, she wasn't going to leap at the opportunity because she said, "I need to think about this."
"Of course," he murmured.
"And I don't have time for that right now," she added with a glance toward the waiting walls. A little sigh slid from her lips and she moved toward the tray and roller she'd left earlier. "I appreciate the offer, but I won't just let the first handsome face convince me to hand over my business."
"You find me handsome?" Cale asked with a grin, kneeling to open the can of paint for her.
Alex flushed, but rolled her eyes and ignored the question, merely taking the now-open can from him to pour the thick liquid into the tray, as she continued, "I'll need to know your qualifications and what experience you have. I hate to ask for a resume, but it would really help me with the decision."
"I shall give it to you orally while I help you paint," he said solemnly, and Alex set the can down and glanced to him with a frown.