Lissa- Sugar and Spice 1.6 - Final Read Free

Black Pearl closed.
    She’d been surprised, but not shocked. Restaurants had a half-life of maybe twenty months, plus or minus, even the ones that people raved about. A place was hot one minute, not just cold but dead the next. So, no, she hadn’t been shocked by The Black Pearl’s closing.
    She’d been shocked that the owner had given neither her nor the staff any warning.
    Lissa took a deep breath.
    Right about then, she’d met Raoul.
    Jesus. Raoul. Hadn’t she learned anything about names back in the days of Jefferson Beauregard the Third?
    But Raoul was different.
    He was—surprise, surprise—an actor, but with a difference. Good-looking? Yes. Sexy? Sure. He was also well-educated. And rich. Mega rich. They met at a party, he took her for drinks afterward and they talked. And talked. And talked. He was interested in her opinions. In the places she’d traveled as a kid, places he had also lived.
    That night was followed by others. They went to dinner. They went to a movie premiere. He held her hand, kissed her goodnight.
    And that was it. No moves. No sex. He respected her. She could tell.
    He was giving her time to get to know him.
    It was the best six weeks she’d spent since moving to the West Coast.
    One night, sitting in her living room having coffee after a quiet meal she’d prepared, Raoul told her that he’d been dreaming of something for a long time.
    Lissa’s heartbeat had quickened.
    He’d reached for her hand.
    “You won’t laugh?”
    She’d assured him that she wouldn’t.
    He’d drawn a deep breath.
    “I want to open a restaurant.”
    She remembered blinking. And saying something really brilliant like, “Huh?”
    “A restaurant,” he’d said. “The best in Los Angeles. The best in Southern California.” He’d brought her hand to his lips, just as he had that first night. “And I want you to be my executive chef.”
    She’d almost fainted at those words.
    Sure, she’d been a sous chef at The Black Pearl . She’d been the sous chef; her responsibilities had been enormous, but executive chef…
    It would make her career.
    She’d be responsible for absolutely everything that happened in the kitchen, from purchases to creating dishes and planning menus. She’d be able to put her stamp on things.
    People would know her name.
    It was the opportunity she’d dreamed of. Tough to come by, especially for a woman, a twentysomething, good-looking woman in a town bursting at the seams with good-looking women.
    Even Lissa’s agent had been worried about her looks and yes, you needed an agent if you wanted to hit the top.
    “Are you serious about a career in the kitchen?” Marcia had asked. “You’re sure you won’t give up cooking if some producer offers you an acting role?”
    It had been an honest question. Ninety-nine percent of the female population between the ages of nine and ninety were in La La Land because they wanted to become stars.
    “I’m a chef,” Lissa had said. “That’s what I studied to be and what I intend to be.”
    Now, thanks to Raoul, the dream she’d had since she’d baked a batch of pretty decent cookies at age seven had been about to come true.
    He would not be her lover, he would be her partner. Well, more or less her partner. She wouldn’t have any ownership in the restaurant—he was going to call it Raoul’s —but together, they would create something grand.
    Raoul asked for her input in the design of the kitchen and dining room; he shared his long-term plans for the place. In return, she shared what she knew about the best suppliers of fish, of meat, of produce. She shared with him the much-coveted names of artisans who baked breads to die for, crafted chocolates to kill for, made cheeses to send your taste buds to heaven. She contacted kitchen and wait staff that she knew, from experience, would be excellent workers. She gave him a list of influential people who’d been regular patrons at The Black Pearl so he could invite them to their big