Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,8
what I said after that until we were safely in the hallway. But I was sure none of it was good because she looked at me like I was a cockroach she wanted to smash with her boot.
Yet, she was gorgeous, there was no denying that.
She had both the look and the attitude of an eighties punk rocker.
She had shoulder-length hair that had been bleached almost white on top, with the bottom strands going darker the lower you looked. She had big expressive brown eyes, a cute little nose with a tiny silver stud in the side, and lush, full lips.
That I had kissed.
Kissed, sucked, bit, devoured…
Lips that I had tried to forget.
Now she was staring at me in both shock and anger, eyes snapping, mouth wide open.
It seemed I’d actually made her speechless, which was a hell of a feat from what I remembered of her.
“Thank you, everyone. I’m excited to be a part of the great team here at Bone,” I said, dragging my gaze off of her.
I was not there to eye fuck Isla.
Making sure to make eye contact with each person around the table, I used a reassuring tone. “I know you are running like a well-oiled machine here, so I promise not to come in and change everything up. I want to work with all of you to keep Bone the amazing establishment it is, while kicking it up a notch.”
It was the usual corporate talk. I’d been in the business long enough to know what was expected of me at a meeting like this. Reassure everyone. Make them feel like nothing is going to change.
All while knowing you were about to switch out half of the menu.
No executive chef came in and wanted to serve his predecessor’s food.
Nico and Sid had told me there were two staff chefs when they had come to me with the job offer. They hadn’t given names, but I was familiar with Martin because he’d been on the scene in Brooklyn for years, long before Brooklyn was trending, and I had known he worked at Bone. He was at least ten years older than me and I had thought it was going to be a challenge to win him over because I knew he would be pissed that he was being passed over.
I hadn’t known who the second chef was and I hadn’t bothered to ask because that wasn’t relevant to my decision-making process. Call it what you want, but I had a goal, and the staff surrounding me wasn’t going to prevent me from earning that spot. For a decade I’d been working towards the title of executive chef, so once it was offered from a reputable restaurant, I hadn’t been concerned about details.
Isla rolled her eyes.
Now I wished I had asked.
I would have been better prepared for that icy stare. And my cock’s reaction to it.
There were only two available seats at the table and one was the head spot. I knew better than to sit there. It was a douche move and I wasn’t going to make it.
The other spot was next to Isla. I walked over to it and eased the chair out. She watched me, her nostrils flaring.
“Good to see you again,” I murmured.
“I can’t say the same,” she replied.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” I said. “Maybe we can start over.” That sounded good. Polite. Appropriate. Unlike what I really wanted to say, which was that I wanted to take her out back and finish what we started while she screamed my name.
“And maybe you can choke on an ox tail.”
I laughed, not in the least surprised. I also didn’t doubt that she was just as hot for me as I was for her, even if she didn’t like me. Or that I was her new boss. “At least I know where I stand.”
“Do you two know each other?” Nico said, sitting across from us.
I didn’t think he’d heard our exchange. I nodded. “We have met briefly. Mutual acquaintances.”
“It was just for a few minutes,” Isla said. “I didn’t even know Sean was a chef.”
“Likewise. We were on an elevator together going to the same party.” Then my tongue had been inside her mouth and her body pressed against mine. “That was the extent of our meeting.”
During which I had come to the conclusion she was both infuriating and arousing.
“The elevator stopped running. We were stuck for a couple of minutes,” Isla said. “It was no big deal.”
She sounded remarkably