Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,109

friend. "And you’re not?"

The rest of the staff had drifted away to their other duties. Tom, his mind already on other things, began looking over the list of the night’s specials. Emma’s homemade gnocchi was one of them, and Tom looked forward to sampling some of it himself.

"We’ll miss you later," Jen said.

Tom startled. So involved in the specials, Tom hadn’t noticed the tall blonde next to him until he felt her breath on his cheek.

She pouted. "The night shift isn’t the same with Frank."

Frank Philips was the night manager. A short, balding man with a wife and six children, he was both personable and efficient. Still, he wasn’t exactly Jen’s type.

"You’ll manage," he told her.

She ran her fingers lightly over his arm. "Where will you be tonight? You hardly ever leave the restaurant on Thursday nights."

Tom shrugged off her grasp. "I have a meeting. Now, Jen, if you don’t mind.…"

"Sure. Lots of work to do. We know, Tom."

Wendi giggled. "What a slave driver. Don’t get out the whips and chains, Tom."

"Wait until after work," Jen added, and the pair finally left him alone.

Watching the two women undulate away from him, Tom, for the first time, found their harmless flirtation annoying. Though he appreciated a beautiful face and body as much as any man, he emphatically did not date employees. Even if that had not been one of his personal rules, Jen and Wendi were too predacious even for him. He preferred to do the pursuing.

Not that it had done much good with Lila.

"I should’ve kissed her," he mumbled grimly.

But he hadn’t kissed her. For some reason, he’d lost his nerve. Staring at her up tilted face, her lovely eyes closed and those perfect lips just ripe and waiting for his mouth to close on hers.… All at once, all he could think about was how much he liked her. She was smart and funny and sexier than any woman he’d been out with in a long time. He wanted to kiss her, sure, but not just standing on the sidewalk. When he kissed Lila Lazin, he wanted it to be in a place and circumstance where a kiss did not have to end the evening.

"‘lo, boss," Emma chirped from behind him. Tomato sauce smeared her chin and flour smudged her cheek. Tom could imagine Michel’s Gallic shudder at the appearance of Emma’s white top, which was spotted with more sauce. "Mike said I was supposed to come and talk to you about the tomato sauce."

Thankful to have his thoughts torn away from the intriguing and annoying Lila Lazin, Tom frowned at the young woman in front of him as sternly as he could. It was a hard effect to master, especially since Emma’s green eyes twinkled so merrily. She grinned at him, her freckled nose squinching.

"Too spicy, Emma. You know what I’ve said in the past about spicy sauce."

"Ah, c’mon, boss." Emma threw up her hands. "Don’t you know spice is the variety of life? Or something like that anyway."

Tom sighed, but smiled at Emma. "Do you do this just to get on Michel’s nerves or mine?"

Emma squeezed him around the waist affectionately. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. "Both. It’s my mission in life to keep you men on your toes. Besides, adding more sugar would ruin that sauce. How can you put a sweet tomato sauce over my homemade gnocchi? It’d be a sin. A culinary sin."

"Just remember, Emma, you’re the sous-chef. Michel is your boss."

"I can get around that," Emma retorted saucily.

"I bet you can."

With just a smile, Emma could have Michel not knowing whether he was slicing or dicing. Tom had seen it more than once. Though they’d never so much as gone on a date, Emma was clearly certain of the chef’s romantic inclinations toward her. It was equally obvious to any who knew them that Michel would never admit to such an attraction.

"Boss?

"Hmmm?" Tom turned back to the specials list.

Thursday nights were Italian night at The Foxfire, with several pasta dishes in addition to Emma’s gnocchi featured. Completely involved with perusing the menu, Tom didn’t notice Emma’s silence until he turned to find her staring at him, bemusement clear upon her freckled face.

"Who is she?" Emma’s merry green eyes glinted knowingly.

"Who is who?"

"The bit of fluff who’s got you so riled. I could tell something’s been on your mind all day. All week, too. You haven’t been out of the house except to come to work, and I’ve actually been