Page 107 of One Sweet Lie
“Can you give this to whoever hired you and have them call me, please?”
She nodded, and I returned to my car.
I tried Harlow’s number again, hoping the ‘wrong number’ message was just a fluke, but the robotic voice served me the same words.
FIFTY-THREE
PIERCE
Can you come to my office?
I need to talk to you.
Jerry
On my way.
“Good afternoon.” He shut the door. “What do you need?”
“A favor.” I motioned for him to have a seat.
“I’m all ears.”
“Do you keep in contact with any of your old coworkers?”
“That’s against your staff policy.”
“I’m aware, but do you do it?” I clicked my pen. “Like Max, Sean, or Avery? You all were great friends before they eventually retired, so I’m just wondering if you still keep in touch.”
“I occasionally comment on their social media accounts and send them letters, but they know what comes with this job.” He eyed me suspiciously. “As the longest member of your staff, I follow all your rules to the letter.”
Of course.“Thank you very much. That’s all I wanted to know.”
He walked to the door, and then he looked over his shoulder.
“Mr. Dawson?”
“Yes?”
“Miss Hawthorne is subletting her apartment to earn extra money,” he said. “She’s working part-time at The French Laundry’s kitchen.”
“Who said anything about Harlow?”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
FIFTY-FOUR
HARLOW
“Ineed chocolate truffles and tarts for table seven!” “Malt brownies and cream brûlée!” “Baumkuchen for our favorite regulars on the balcony!” “Go, go, go!”
Flames hissed on the ranges at Hudson Kitchen, soothing my mind as I prepared a custom cake.
The daily feel of sugar sifting through my fingers was enough to make me stop thinking about Pierce. But once the lights were out and the kitchen was silent, when were all sent away, memories of him flooded my mind.
Even though he sent a woman to take back the storefront, my heart refused to let him go.
“Beautiful work, Chef Harlow.” Chef Grant dipped his finger into a chocolate bowl. “I’ve yet to witness you making anything less than stellar.”