man—letting anyone take over his kitchen was tantamount to admitting he was beat. A bitter pill for both of them to swallow.
She gave Del her back and appealed to her mentor one last time. “You don’t need him; the two of us are doing fine. He doesn’t know Due South the way we do.”
“So you’ll teach him . Working together, the pair of you are gonna keep this place alive until I’m well enough to kick both your miserable butts into shape.” Bill chuckled, but the sound rattled in his throat like gravel crushed in a blender.
Her inner temperature gauge dropped out of the red-zone. “I won’t work under him.”
Vince’s muffled snicker dropped into the sudden silence, and she froze.
Shoot . That came out wrong. Had the men noticed? Of-freaking-course they had.
Men— such children.
“I’m sure working under me won’t be a problem,” Del said. “Unless you make it one.”
“Oh, go to hell, Hollywood.”
The man had the audacity to flash a grin at her, showing off the cute crooked tooth and all. Jerk .
Lani, one of their servers, pushed through the kitchen doors. “Table three wants his steak cremated and a—” Glancing up from the order pad, she skipped her gaze around the room, her brown eyes widening as they settled on Del.
At nineteen, Lani probably wouldn’t remember Del from when she was a kid, but the resemblance between all three of the Westlake men was unmistakable. Del switched on his mega-watt smile and aimed it at the young Maori woman. Incredibly, their often sullen but hard-working server returned the expression.
He’d won another ally. Super.
“Enough chit-chat.” Bill flicked his fingers at Lani. “We’ve got customers waiting. We’ll sort this shit, and you”—He paused to glower at Del—“out tomorrow. Staff meeting at eight.”
“Shaye, let’s go to my place and talk this through,” said West.
A group roasting by the two brothers and her big sister, all of them insisting Shaye’s objections were unreasonable? Hah . Thanks, but no thanks. She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, hoping it’d flick Del in the eye.
“Let’s not. Let’s see if your brother can even handle a few days on Stewart Island without going stir crazy.”
And with the shreds of her dignity intact—she plain refused to let that man provoke her temper again—Shaye swept out of Due South.
Chapter 3
Well, that went about as smoothly as his first conversation with the feisty brunette. Which was to say, he’d come off like a complete douche—muscling in on Shaye’s territory and stomping all over her dainty feet. Letting her needle him into losing his cool.
Again— attaboy, Del.
He yanked his gaze from the back door and met his father’s speculative stare, the old man’s caterpillar eyebrows almost touching his hairline.
“Eight sharp, not a minute late.” Bill clipped an order to the rack. “Now get out and go see your mother, since this whole damn thing was her crazy idea.”
Crazy idea being the understatement of the century.
With another quick glance around the kitchen, which would almost fit into one of Cosset’s restrooms, Del shrugged. He could point out that at twenty-seven he was too old to be ordered about, least of all by a man who was his father in name only. But frankly, he wanted to get the hell out of this kitchen.
West clapped Del on the shoulder, and he jumped.
“Let’s go. A quick fuss-over by Claire and we’ll head to my place.”
“Aren’t you going after Shaye?” Del asked.
“It’d do more harm than good at this point.” West shook his head. “She needs to work off that head of steam—she’ll be on her way to trash-talk about us to one of her friends. I’ll speak to her in the morning.”
“Great start to our working relationship. What a total fuck up.”
“You’ll feel better after a beer and a good sleep after your long flight.”
Del sighed. His brother had no idea. “I’m whipped, but yeah, I’d better say hi to