Roxanne Claire: Barefoot by the Sea

“Have both.”

Could she do that? A powerful longing twisted through her whole body. Was that longing for him or just her usual maternal aching?

She sat up, an idea occurring. “Isn’t that against the Casa Blanca employee rules?”

Lacey laughed. “I’ll check the handbook I haven’t had time to create yet. Look, even if I had one, the property owner who fell into bed with her architect would be a hypocrite if she made a rule against fraternization.”

Tessa dropped her head back. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“Sure you could. You damn near did it the other night.”

“I mean work with him. I’ll make a complete fool of myself.”

Lacey laughed. “Could be fun.”

“Fun for you and Joss and Zoe, maybe. Anyway, he seems to have no problem turning me down. It’s one thing to lust after a coworker, but it’s another to lust alone after a coworker.”

“I don’t think he’ll hold out for long.”

Lacey made it sound like fun and games, but the reality of the situation wasn’t fun, and getting pregnant wasn’t a game, despite her playful musings about seashells.

“I told him I wanted a sperm donor. What’s he going to think when he finds out I’m cooking up my eggs and some stranger’s sperm in a test tube to be carried in another woman’s belly?” She let out a soft groan. “Oh, God, when I spell it out like that, it sounds so horrible, doesn’t it?”

“Horrible?” Lacey was up and had her arm around Tessa in an instant, the move as natural as her next breath. “Honey, you want a baby and you’re moving heaven and earth to get it. You have to separate the two things. There is nothing horrible about wanting a baby and doing what you can to get one. That’s quite understandable. At the same time you met a man who makes your heart skip and your toes curl and the entire lower half of your body wake up and want to play. That’s understandable, too.”

Tessa relaxed into a grin. “You do know how it feels.”

“I do, and it’s awesome.”

“With the right guy,” Tessa shot back. “Not a long-haired…”

Lacey raised a brow.

“Okay, tattooed…”

And she smiled.

Tessa had to laugh. “He does have a lot in common with your husband.”

“Listen to me,” Lacey said softly. “I know that feeling, but I also know how it feels to hold your child. All I’m trying to say is there’s no law that you can’t try to have your baby and date the new chef. They aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Except that dating and babies generally did have something to do with each other. Then Lacey’s words hit her brain. The new chef. “You’ve already hired him.”

“I want to, assuming his references check out and he passes the physical.” Lacey gave a bad Groucho Marx eyebrow wag. “Which of course would give you all the info you need to know about his potential for all the jobs available at Casa Blanca…including sperm donor.”

Oh, brother. “You’re not listening, Lace. He couldn’t have run away faster. He’s not—”

“Hey, are you in there?”

“Come on in, Joss,” Lacey called. “Tessa’s here, too.”

“Did you see who is in the kitchen?” Jocelyn practically leaped into the room. “Scorpion Man!”

Tessa dropped her head into her hands. “Could this get any worse?”

“I already texted Zoe and told her,” Jocelyn added.

“In other words, yes, it can get worse.” Tessa threw her hands up in surrender. “Look, if you hire him, Lacey, you all have to stop acting like we’re in middle school and I have a crush. I have to work with the guy, plus he’s not my type, and he couldn’t have been less interested in me in the bar the other night.”

“He turned down your request to father a child,” Jocelyn said. “Prior to that, he was majorly interested.”

“Interested in getting laid.”

“Semantics,” Zoe said, stepping through the open door and giving Tessa a once-over. “Ugh. Couldn’t you have lost the boots and filthy shirt for his interview?”

“I didn’t know he…” She waved her hand to shut them all up. “Listen, this is crazy. He’s just a guy.”

Zoe choked. “And Godiva’s just a chocolate. Didn’t you tell him you worked here?”

Tessa frowned, replaying their conversation. “I think I told him I was the gardener at a resort.”

“There’s only one resort on Mimosa Key,” Jocelyn said, obviously picking up Zoe’s train of thought. “I bet he’s here on purpose. Trying to pick up where he stupidly left off.”

Tessa silently cursed the little butterfly of hope that pirouetted around her chest, remembering the wink.

“He said he heard about the job from Charity,” Lacey said, verbally swiping at the butterfly. “Who’s trying to tell every island visitor that we’re going out of business.”

They shared a quick moment of silence, the possibility so unspeakable that no one could really say a word.

“That is so not going to happen.” Tessa slapped her hands on her legs to stand. “If he’s a great chef, available, affordable, and his references check out, let’s hire him.”

Nobody responded as they looked at each other, surprised by her change of heart.

“Guys,” Tessa whispered. “Do you really think I would let my pride or insecurities stand in the way of Casa Blanca’s success? Of course I’m going to work with him. I’ll do whatever I have to even if it means I have to be right next to him all day…and night.”

Lacey smiled, reached for her. “Thank you.”

“That’s really unselfish of you,” Joss added, circling her arm around Tessa’s waist.

Zoe grinned. “Way to take one for the team, kiddo.”

Tessa pointed at her. “Don’t you have a balloon you have to fly?”

Lacey’s cell phone rang and she grabbed it, reading a text. “Front desk says there’s someone here to see me about a group booking. You handle the new hire, Tess.”

“Me?”

Lacey nodded. “Finish the interview, seal the deal, and call his references for me.”

“You might have to interview him over dinner,” Jocelyn suggested.

“And overnight,” Zoe added. “You know, for the good of the resort.”

Tessa held out her hand. “Twenty dollars says you have lipstick and comb, Zoe. Hand them over.”

“Twenty dollars says you do it with him before Thanksgiving.”

Tessa laughed. Maybe she would. Until then, all bets were off.

What the hell was he thinking? That flirting with her would get him the job? From the look he got, winking was only going to get him kicked out on his ass, jobless.

Time for a new strategy. What he had to do was cook his balls off and get the job the old-fashioned way. If he didn’t find work quickly, he’d have to move on. Those were the rules he’d agreed to when Henry let him go to North America. He had to get a job, find a place to live, keep his nose clean, and watch the damn clock tick his life and hope away.

Oh, and not let anyone in the world know where or what or who he was, except John Brown, an American-born, self-taught cook.

When he walked back into the kitchen, the young kid who’d been working the line and giving him an evil eye the whole time Ian had cooked was cleaning away any trace of Ian’s work.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked as the boy—he couldn’t be a day over twenty—swiped a cloth over the stainless prep top.

“Oh, I thought you were gone.”

“You threw away the eggs Benedict?” Ian choked. “Nobody tasted them.”

“I did. Good stuff, but I got this covered, man, so thanks for coming in.”

How many damn obstacles did he have to face in one interview? Ire shot through Ian as he stared down this new enemy, all too aware that Tessa would come barreling through the door any second to end the interview.