Read Online The Baby Truce by Jeannie Watt - Free Book Online Page B

didn’t sound all that convinced, either.
    â€œWhat if it affects the business?” Justin asked, taking the spatula back. “The two of you hammering?”
    Reggie forced herself to relax her fingers, release the death grip she had on the counter on either side of herhips. “The second the business is affected, he’s out.” She couldn’t afford to let business be hurt in any way. Not when Tremont Catering had to provide for both her and her child.
    â€œSo he’ll probably be here for what? One day? Maybe two?” Justin muttered, tapping his palm again. Eden sent him a warning glare and he tossed the spatula into the sink.
    â€œWhat will he do?” Eden asked. “I mean, a chef of his caliber—”
    â€œPrep work.”
    Justin’s eyebrows rose. “Does he know that?”
    â€œI told him.”
    â€œBut does he believe you?” her brother asked reasonably.
    â€œIf he doesn’t now, he soon will.”
    â€œAnd this won’t affect business,” he said. “Somehow I don’t see Tom happily doing prep work. I do see disaster, though.”
    Reggie shrugged. “There may be a few blips the first day or two, but after that, either he’ll leave or we’ll settle in.”
    Justin glanced up at the clock. He was on a close deadline, as always. “If there’s trouble, I’m bouncing his ass outta here and you guys will have to work this out in another venue. Like I said, I want you to come to an agreement, but…”
    This has failure written all over it. He didn’t need to say it out loud.
    â€œEden?” Reggie asked.
    â€œI’m okay with it.”
    â€œI can’t believe I’m saying this,” Reggie said, not certain she even meant it, “but…thanks.”
    Â 
    I T HAD TAKEN T OM TWO WEEKS TO tie up loose ends, sublet his apartment to a friend of a friend and fly back to Reno, during which time he kept hoping for that magical phone call from Pete telling him a great job offer had come in and all was forgiven. No need for penance.
    Didn’t happen.
    Even if it had, he still had a situation with Reggie, but he couldn’t help feeling he’d be in a better position to deal with it if he was employed instead of floundering. Floundering was not his normal state of being and he hated it. A lot.
    There was one car in the parking lot when Tom arrived at the Tremont Catering kitchen the morning after flying in, and although the interior lights were off, the front door was unlocked. He let himself in.
    Reggie had said to show up at eight-thirty, but, still being on eastern standard time, and eaten alive by nerves, he’d been up early and couldn’t see hanging around the hotel for hours. He wanted to check out the Tremont kitchen, see where he’d be working.
    The instant he stepped into the front reception area, with its cool green walls, bright artwork and granite counter, his stomach knotted. An alien cooking environment for sure. No front of house. No brigade.
    He hadn’t let himself dwell over the past two weeks on what he was getting himself into, because if he had, he would have spent most of his waking hours raging at the fates. And lately anger didn’t feel cathartic. Insteadit made him feel as if he was wasting one hell of a lot of energy and accomplishing nothing. Probably because he was.
    He was going to be a dad and didn’t know the first thing about fatherhood.
    All he could do at this point was focus on the game. On what he was good at—cooking. Running a kitchen.
    Behind the reception counter was a metal door, propped open with a rubber wedge. Tom walked around the counter and stepped through.
    â€œHello?”
    The kitchen was larger than he’d expected—larger than many he’d worked in—and well designed, with lots of counter space, a walk-in, decent stoves, double convection ovens. In fact, it was almost exactly the kitchen Tom and