1
Owen
“Hey, Owen. What are you doing here?” The manager of Saphyre greeted me with surprise as I entered the restaurant. “I didn’t expect you back for another couple of weeks.” He lifted his chin at the young man standing at the host podium, then strolled over to me.
I smiled as I shook his hand. “We wrapped early, and I was anxious to get home.” I’d made a name for myself as a television chef and normally spent half the year in Los Angeles while my show was filmed. But, this restaurant was my true baby, my pride and joy. And, it was in my home town of Atlanta, Georgia. Over the last couple of years, I’d been becoming more and more weary of the travel and the upheaval in my life, never quite being settled.
“Well, welcome back, man. It’s great to see you.”
“Thanks, James. I wanted to see how the renovations are going. By the way, I appreciate all the pictures you sent.” Shortly before I’d left for California, we’d started construction on an expansion to the restaurant. Adding two more offices in the back, a private dining room, and more square footage in the kitchen. I was a hands-on kind of guy and not being around for the project drove me nuts. But, James and I had been friends since I opened the place and knowing me well, he’d kept me updated with emails and photos.
James laughed and slapped me on the back before turning and heading towards the back offices. “Not a problem”—he glanced back with a regretful smile—“I wish I had time to show you around right now, but I have an interview with a potential waitress. The contractor is here though, or you can wait until after my appointment and we can look over the space together.”
My eyes swept over the mostly empty restaurant. It was late morning and the staff was just beginning to set up for the lunch crowd. The ambiance was plush, sultry, with dark woods and rich blues, burgundies, and golds. I was proud of what I’d built. And I was happy as fuck to be home for good.
“Owen?”
I looked up to find James a few steps ahead, looking at me curiously. Chuckling, I closed the gap. “Sorry, lost in my own little world. I’ve got a few things to catch up on in my office, so I’ll wait until you’re done.” We’d resumed walking but at my words, he hesitated.
“Damn. I’m sorry, Owen, but my office is being painted. I’ve got Sienna waiting in yours”—he grinned suddenly—“Andy is here if you want to go harass her.”
I laughed, shaking my head. Andy was my head chef and also happened to be James’s wife. He thought it was absolutely hysterical when Andy and I butted heads. We could both be a little territorial and she hated it when I reminded her that her kitchen was, in fact, my kitchen and she couldn’t kick me out. I trusted her completely, or I wouldn’t have hired her for the job. That didn’t mean I didn’t have suggestions and opinions. I may have owned the place, but I was a chef first and foremost. Sometimes though, I just liked to get her riled up.
“Sure,” I agreed. “Just let me drop my bag in my office.” I followed behind him, my mind and heart settling, finding comfort in a place I considered home. It had been a rough year, and I was ready for the permanent change.
I’d been considering retiring from my TV show for the last couple of seasons, but it wasn’t like I had a wife and kids to come home to, so I kept vacillating in my decision. Being home was bittersweet sometimes. I had a reputation for being a lady’s man but the truth was, I wasn’t a player. I preferred to be in a relationship. And lately, I’d watched almost all my friends meet their soulmates, fall in love, get married, and start a family.
I was over the moon for them, but it brought my solo situation into glaring perspective. However, meeting the right kind of girl in Hollywood was a bit like finding the one clam with the pearl.
Then I’d met Hilary. She was a friend of a friend who had finally worn me down until I agreed to be set up. She was beautiful, tall and willowy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a curvy figure. The problem was, there was no chemistry. Still, we got along and she seemed to want the same things I did. Home, family, stability. So, I kept seeing her in hopes that something would develop and bring the chemistry along with it.
I’d just about convinced myself that I could live without that part (although, I’d never been able to bring myself to sleep with her) and I told her about my plans to cancel my show and return to Atlanta permanently. I was going to ask her to come with me but to my shock, she flew off the fucking handle. She seemed to think a life with me guaranteed fame and fortune, and she was pissed as hell that I was willing to walk away from it.
The sad part was that I felt almost nothing when we split. I wasn’t angry or hurt, I was…relieved. I’d almost made a stupid choice that could have ruined everything. I wanted to be with someone who made my blood boil and my heart burst. I wanted…
Her.
I came to an abrupt halt the moment I stepped into my office, stunned by the woman sitting in front of my desk.
“Sienna, this is Owen, the owner of Saphyre,” James introduced me as he rounded my large, oak desk to take a seat. She wasn’t exactly small, more like dainty, with a delicate bone structure. Her chocolate hair looked like a waterfall of silk, hanging midway down her back. Her profile showed long eyelashes, a cute upturned nose, and full, plump lips. Then she turned her head and I was again struck, frozen in
place as her dark brown eyes met mine. A shock zinged through my body, waking up certain parts of me that had been hibernating as of late. My heart felt like it was on the verge of exploding right out of my chest. And one word pinged around in my head like a pinball. Mine.
“Let’s get started,” James stated, picking up a piece of paper from the desk and perusing it. I sprang into action, walking over to him and snatching it from his hand.
“I’ll take it from here, James. Why don’t you go check on today’s menu with Andy?” My eyes never left Sienna’s as I spoke, I couldn’t seem to look away.
“You’re going to interview her?” James sputtered. I could understand his confusion. I usually hated hiring front of the house staff and left it up to James. There wasn’t time to explain it to him. I needed to be alone with this woman. My woman.
“Yes,” I growled. “Now, get out.” I grabbed his elbow and lifted him from my grey, leather, swivel chair and shoved him towards the door. I waited until I heard the click of the it shutting before dropping into my seat and giving Sienna my most scorching, panty-melting smile.
2
Sienna
Whoa.
Yup. I almost said that aloud, and I couldn’t even blame myself if I’d actually done it. The guy standing in front of me was more than hot enough to warrant such a reaction, even during an interview. The dark jeans and midnight blue Henley he was wearing did all sorts of good things for his long and lean body. Prompting all kinds of really good things in my nether regions. His sandy blond hair looked like it was a month or two overdue for a cut, but the length worked for him. It was tousled as though he’d been running his fingers through it—which only made me want to do the same. And his sparkling green eyes... sigh.
As impossible as it seemed, Owen Walker was even more attractive in person than he was on television. I never watched cooking shows, except for his. I was hopeless in the kitchen, but it wasn’t like I watched him for the food. Although it looked amazing, too, which was a big part of why I’d chosen to apply for the waitressing job at Saphyre. The delicious food brought in a lot of customers, and they were willing to pay a lot to eat there.
From what I’d heard, those customers also tipped well. Very well. Better than Parisi’s, where I’d been working for the last year while I attended Georgia State University. Doing a double major in Biology and Chemistry, while still graduating in four years, meant I was stretching myself thin. I’d been making ends meet, but that was about it. This job would mean I’d be able to work a few less hours and even have some extra spending money. Only I hadn’t expected to meet the famous chef who owned Saphyre, let alone to find myself staring at him after he’d kicked the manager I’d been expecting to interview with out of his office. And if I managed to land the job, I never imagined he’d aim a sexy grin at me the way he was. But there he was; standing in front of me with a glint in his eyes and his lips tilted up, flashing me his pearly whites. It was enough to melt my panties right off my body.
Then his gaze dropped down to a stack of papers on the desk, and he lifted the top one to read it. I had already been nervous since it wasn’t just a stretch for me to move from a family-owned Italian joint to a restaurant with Saphyre’s reputation. It was more like a leap of faith. With how nice James had seemed, I thought I might have an outside chance of convincing him to give me a shot. But with Owen doing the interview and my sex drive deciding this was the perfect time for it to suddenly roar to life? I didn’t see it happening.
“I like the look of your resume, Sienna.”
Then again, maybe I was wrong.
His gaze lifted from the paper and paused for several seconds on my cleavage before moving up to my face.
And maybe about more than just my odds of landing the job. I wasn’t sure what to think about that, but my body seemed to be in favor of it considering the state of my underwear.
“Thank you.” My voice came out breathy, so I cleared my throat and tried to sound more confident. “I know I don’t have any fine dining experience, but I think I’d be a great fit for Saphyre. I’m really good with people, I have a great memory, and my customers always seem to be happy with my service. My tips are pretty much always higher than any of the servers at Parisi’s.”
His brow wrinkled, but I couldn’t figure out what I’d said to warrant the reaction. “Probably because most of your customers are guys,” he mumbled.
My head jerked back in surprise, and I shook it figuring I had heard him wrong. “Pardon me?”
“Our menu is much more complex than what you’re accustomed to.”
I knew that wasn’t anything close to what he’d said, but there wasn’t a way to politely call him out on it. Plus, I was more than a little irritated at the inference that I couldn’t handle this job simply because I’d spent the last year serving pasta and tiramisu. “Yes, but I’ve already spent time memorizing it. From the roasted lamb loin with sautéed sweetbread and artichokes to the macaroons; I’m familiar with all of it.” He looked doubtful, but I was confident that I’d prepared enough for this interview that I could answer almost any question he asked about Saphyre’s menu. Considering all the hours I’d spent watching his show, I’d seen him prepare many of the dishes often enough that I’d already known what was in them. Heck, I could probably describe a lot of them using the exact same phrases he did.
He tilted his head to the side, and his lips tilted up again. Only this smile held a hint of challenge instead of the masculine approval from before. I mentally braced myself, and he started quizzing me. Dish after dish, he ran down the complete menu. As soon as I answered one question, he fired off another.
“Perfect.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands together. The panty melting grin was back again.
My heart raced with excitement. “Does that mean I’ve got the job?”
“No, I don’t want you to waitress for me. I don’t like the idea of you on your feet all night, carrying heavy trays.”
“Umm, what do you think I’ve been doing for the last year?”
“True,” he conceded. “But you didn’t work for me then.”
Say what?
“And I don’t work for you now if you’re not hiring me.” This time it was my brow that wrinkled. “Besides which, don’t you have food runners here? I thought your wait staff doesn’t even carry trays.”
“Sometimes they do.”
“Well then, I could do it sometimes, too. I’m stronger than I look.”
“It wouldn’t be safe for you to lift anything heavy when you’re pregnant.”
Was that why he’d looked at my boobs? Not because he was checking me out, but because he thought I was pregnant? How embarrassing. “But I’m not. I don’t even have a guy in my life,” I blurted out, as though he needed that additional information.
“That’s what you think.”
My head reared back in shock—again. I felt like I’d been dropped into some alternate universe. One where it was normal for a famous chef to interview a lowly waitress and for him to make crazy comments throughout the meeting.
Wait. Maybe that was it. I lifted my gaze and swiveled my head, scanning the room and looking for cameras. “Are you doing some new kind of show? Is that why you’re interviewing me instead of James.” He scowled at me, and I hurried to explain. “Like a mixture between Punk’d and Undercover Boss?”
He set my resume down, rose from his chair, and prowled around his desk until he was standing in front of me. There wasn’t a ton of room for him there because of where my chair was placed, so he was close enough that I swore I could feel the body heat coming off of him. I caught a whiff of his delicious scent, sandalwood and leather with a spicy undertone, and felt light-headed. He leaned down and put a hand on each armrest, caging me in.
“No, Sienna. You aren’t part of a new television show. Nor will you be a part of an old one since I’m done with my cooking show. The reason I’m interviewing you instead of James is because I have another position in mind f
or you.”
All kinds of dirty thoughts slammed into my head, and I struggled to stop myself from squirming in my seat. His green eyes filled with heat, and his nostrils flared. A deep blush filled my cheeks as I wondered if he could smell the dampness from my panties, and I pressed my legs together. He gave me a knowing grin, and his voice was raspy as he continued, “I’m making some big changes in my life, and I think you’re the perfect person to be at my side during them.”
3
Owen
“Um…” Sienna’s brow furrowed adorably. “Are we still talking about a job?”
My grin widened as I thought about my answer. Honesty wasn’t always the best policy, and I figured if I told her she was now mine and I would be getting her in my bed and knocked up as soon as possible, it might send her running. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy the chase, but I wanted to skip that part and go right to the good stuff that came when I caught her. Masking my intentions with a “job” seemed like my best bet.
“Of course. I have an opening that I think would be a much better fit than waitressing.” I stood up and stepped back, fighting every instinct I had to kiss away the wrinkles on her forehead. She was so fucking gorgeous it made my head spin. Even more than that though, her eyes showed an intelligence and wit that I’d seen glimpses of in our short time together.