Big Bad Beast
Page 13
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My face does, Dee muttered.
Isnt she great? Shes so nice and sweet. I met her at team practice the other day. Her dad is
Nice Guy Malone.
Fascinating, Dee lied, then slammed her fork into Rics before he could get some of her cake.
Dont you need that hand to work so you can keep cooking?
You wont share?
Not without a fight.
Ric leaned in a bit, the rest of the table having a discussion about something else she couldnt care less about. And dont let this thing with Marcella Malone bother you, Dee. You have more important work to do. I expect you to impress me.
Because thats my life goal, she replied dryly. To impress a Van Holtz.
All the Packs would be better off if that was their lifes goal.
Yall born with that level of arrogance?
Ric grinned, showing perfect, gleaming white teeth. It seems that way. Although my Aunt Irene says she hasnt quite figured out if its an inborn personality trait or a genetic defect. But shes working on it.
Ric walked his guests out of his restaurant. It was a hot, muggy night and he couldnt wait to get home. But he still had to ensure the kitchen was shut down properly, that he knew what was being delivered tomorrow so he could start working on the menu for himself and his Aunt Adelle, who shared executive chef duties with him, and that he dealt with any complaints that may have come up in the evening if they had to do with his crew.
Everything all right? Lock asked him, the pair standing off to the side while the others watched a hyped-up Blayne do backflips in her skates. He could only guess that there was some processed sugar in the honey cake the pastry chef had made. Hed have to check since it was listed on the menu as a sugar-free dessert.
I thought I saw Stein earlier.
Lock turned toward him, eyes blinking wide. Are you sure it was him?
Not really. But it looked like him.
Your fathers going to have a fit if the kids back.
I know.
Are you going to help him?
No.
Ric
Im not. The kid had broken his heart. Ric wasnt about to help him now. Those days were over. The kids on his own, whichaccording to himis the way he likes it.
Stubborn.
Its a flaw Ive learned to live with.
By now Novikov had a wriggling I need to run and be free! Blayne over his shoulder. Anyone need a ride? he asked, heading to what Lock called the mans militarytransport. A vehicle so big, it could get an entire Roman legion in it.
No, thanks. We have our truck.
Okay. See you at the game tomorrow. He started to open the door of his truck, but stopped and faced them. He thought a moment and said, And thank you for dinner. Ric, confused by the sudden bout of politeness, answered, Youre welcome. With a nod, he suddenly slapped Blaynes rear and said, Happy now? I said thank you to your loser friends and Gwen.
Its progress! Now let me go to run free!
Youll be in Connecticut before I can catch you and I have a game tomorrow. He got her into his vehicle and put a seatbelt on her. It appeared to be a standard seatbelt but, for whatever reason, Blayne seemed unable to get it off, giving Novikov time to get around and inside the vehicle before his mate could make a run for it.
Watching her try to wiggle and fight her way out of that seatbelt, Ric stated, I feel like we should be rescuing her.
Really? Gwen asked, slipping her arm around Locks waist. I always feel like I should be rescuing him. Hes gotta go home and deal with a hyped-up Blayne for the next few hours. Ric shook his head. I need to talk to Jean-Louis about his honey cake. Its supposed to be sugar free.
You gonna tell him, hoss? Dee suddenly asked from behind Ric. To be honest, hed thought shed left a while ago.
Lock, appearing caught, shrugged. Dont know what you mean. He grabbed Gwens hand.
Lets go.
Wait. Whats the redneck talking about? Gwen demanded, forced to follow her mate to their truck.
Ric sighed. Okay. Whats going on?
Im only telling you cause I dont want Jean-whatever
Jean-Louis.
Yeah. Him. He makes the best angels food cake Ive ever had and I dont want him fired over something not his fault. But when Novikov wasnt looking, MacRyrie put sugar in Blaynes soothing chamomile tea.
Ric, working hard not to laugh, said, Oh. Thats horrible. Ill talk to Lock about it tomorrow.
What about you re-organizing Novikovs hockey bag while he was in the bathroom? You gonna tell MacRyrie about that, too?
Probably not . . . right away.
She grinned. Yall are so mean to that boy.
You act as if he doesnt deserve it.
I didnt say that, but where I come from, we tolerate our rude ones when they play a sport that well. We put up with Mitch Shaw for the towns football season.
Isnt she great? Shes so nice and sweet. I met her at team practice the other day. Her dad is
Nice Guy Malone.
Fascinating, Dee lied, then slammed her fork into Rics before he could get some of her cake.
Dont you need that hand to work so you can keep cooking?
You wont share?
Not without a fight.
Ric leaned in a bit, the rest of the table having a discussion about something else she couldnt care less about. And dont let this thing with Marcella Malone bother you, Dee. You have more important work to do. I expect you to impress me.
Because thats my life goal, she replied dryly. To impress a Van Holtz.
All the Packs would be better off if that was their lifes goal.
Yall born with that level of arrogance?
Ric grinned, showing perfect, gleaming white teeth. It seems that way. Although my Aunt Irene says she hasnt quite figured out if its an inborn personality trait or a genetic defect. But shes working on it.
Ric walked his guests out of his restaurant. It was a hot, muggy night and he couldnt wait to get home. But he still had to ensure the kitchen was shut down properly, that he knew what was being delivered tomorrow so he could start working on the menu for himself and his Aunt Adelle, who shared executive chef duties with him, and that he dealt with any complaints that may have come up in the evening if they had to do with his crew.
Everything all right? Lock asked him, the pair standing off to the side while the others watched a hyped-up Blayne do backflips in her skates. He could only guess that there was some processed sugar in the honey cake the pastry chef had made. Hed have to check since it was listed on the menu as a sugar-free dessert.
I thought I saw Stein earlier.
Lock turned toward him, eyes blinking wide. Are you sure it was him?
Not really. But it looked like him.
Your fathers going to have a fit if the kids back.
I know.
Are you going to help him?
No.
Ric
Im not. The kid had broken his heart. Ric wasnt about to help him now. Those days were over. The kids on his own, whichaccording to himis the way he likes it.
Stubborn.
Its a flaw Ive learned to live with.
By now Novikov had a wriggling I need to run and be free! Blayne over his shoulder. Anyone need a ride? he asked, heading to what Lock called the mans militarytransport. A vehicle so big, it could get an entire Roman legion in it.
No, thanks. We have our truck.
Okay. See you at the game tomorrow. He started to open the door of his truck, but stopped and faced them. He thought a moment and said, And thank you for dinner. Ric, confused by the sudden bout of politeness, answered, Youre welcome. With a nod, he suddenly slapped Blaynes rear and said, Happy now? I said thank you to your loser friends and Gwen.
Its progress! Now let me go to run free!
Youll be in Connecticut before I can catch you and I have a game tomorrow. He got her into his vehicle and put a seatbelt on her. It appeared to be a standard seatbelt but, for whatever reason, Blayne seemed unable to get it off, giving Novikov time to get around and inside the vehicle before his mate could make a run for it.
Watching her try to wiggle and fight her way out of that seatbelt, Ric stated, I feel like we should be rescuing her.
Really? Gwen asked, slipping her arm around Locks waist. I always feel like I should be rescuing him. Hes gotta go home and deal with a hyped-up Blayne for the next few hours. Ric shook his head. I need to talk to Jean-Louis about his honey cake. Its supposed to be sugar free.
You gonna tell him, hoss? Dee suddenly asked from behind Ric. To be honest, hed thought shed left a while ago.
Lock, appearing caught, shrugged. Dont know what you mean. He grabbed Gwens hand.
Lets go.
Wait. Whats the redneck talking about? Gwen demanded, forced to follow her mate to their truck.
Ric sighed. Okay. Whats going on?
Im only telling you cause I dont want Jean-whatever
Jean-Louis.
Yeah. Him. He makes the best angels food cake Ive ever had and I dont want him fired over something not his fault. But when Novikov wasnt looking, MacRyrie put sugar in Blaynes soothing chamomile tea.
Ric, working hard not to laugh, said, Oh. Thats horrible. Ill talk to Lock about it tomorrow.
What about you re-organizing Novikovs hockey bag while he was in the bathroom? You gonna tell MacRyrie about that, too?
Probably not . . . right away.
She grinned. Yall are so mean to that boy.
You act as if he doesnt deserve it.
I didnt say that, but where I come from, we tolerate our rude ones when they play a sport that well. We put up with Mitch Shaw for the towns football season.
