Burn (Heat #1)(10)



She nods. "I'm going to wait for her before I order. I don't want to get tipsy too fast tonight."

I was hoping for the opposite. I'm ready to head home already. I was out late last night at Tyler's VIP event and when I did get home, I fell fast asleep but it was short and sweet.

Sophia had woken me shortly after she got up around seven to talk to me about a design conference she was spending her day off at. It's Saturday. I work the dinner service only which means I'm typically in bed until at least ten.

Even if I had wanted to go back to bed after she left for the conference, I couldn't. I was up, cooking breakfast for myself by then.

"I'm going to head outside to see if I can find her." She hops off the bar stool onto her cute pink strappy heels. "Will you wait right here for me?"

"You should wait here too." My eyes narrow as I see Maribel approaching. "She's here and she's not alone."

"That's Tyler Monroe, isn't it, Cadence? Maribel brought us Tyler Monroe."

***

"The offer of a drink is still on the table, Cadence." Tyler taps his fingers on the edge of the bar. "I can order for you. They make a mean vodka gimlet here."

"You've been here before?" I ask with a wave of my hand at the bartender as he approaches. He turns quickly on his heel. "I'm not drinking tonight, Chef."

"Tyler," he reminds me as he takes a large swallow of imported beer. "I've been here a few times."

"Maribel," I say her name before I realize that I don't know how to broach the subject.

He cocks his head, his eyes locking on mine. "You're wondering why I'm here with Maribel, is that it?"

It's not that I think there's anything going on between the two of them. Maribel is married, happily married. Her husband works shifts and tonight, he's on which means she wanted to blow off some steam. I doubt like hell she would risk her marriage of twenty-five years to hook up with her boss.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight."

He takes another drink from the bottle of beer, looking at me while he does. "Maribel mentioned she was meeting you and a friend before she left work tonight. I asked where she was headed. She told me the name of this place and since I wanted a beer, I told her I'd stop by her apartment once she was ready so we could share a taxi."

"They serve that beer at the restaurant," I point out.

He smirks, his eyebrow rising. "I'm aware."

"I should find Maribel and Sophia." I look at the crowded dance floor. "It was good to see you, Chef."

"Don't go, Cadence." His hand settles on my knee. "Stick around and talk to me. There's something I've been meaning to say to you."





CHAPTER 10


"You were right about the drink," I say, smiling. "I may have to order a vodka gimlet the next time I'm out."

"I wouldn't order one at Club Aeon." He motions for the bartender to bring him another beer. "If you come back here, do it. Otherwise pass."

I nod, wanting to appear grateful for the insider tip. I've already thanked him for the drink which he ordered shortly after he asked me to stay and talk. Sophia and Maribel popped by briefly on their way to the ladies' room. They were flushed from dancing, both grinning as they thanked me for introducing them.

"I'm going to be honest, Cadence," he says my name the way he always does. It's seductive, alluring, the lilt a touch too sensual for strangers.

"It's the best policy," I joke. "Honest about what?"

"It's f*cked up that you're the woman who was with Trevino." He shrugs. "I can't stand the guy. You were seriously hooking up with him for a year?"

I've never been embarrassed about my relationship with Brendon. He may come across as an * to anyone who watches him cook, but he wasn't always that way.

He was good to me at the beginning of our relationship although his immaturity was wearing. When he started to view every other chef, including me, as a competitor, I knew it was over.

"We dated for almost ten months," I admit.

He shakes his head tipping back the bottle of beer, bringing it to his mouth. "I don't get what someone like you would see in a guy like that. He's all talk. I worked with him. He got under my skin."

Defending Brendon's honor isn't on my to-do list so I'm not going there. He's more than capable of standing up for himself. I ignore the statements, knowing that even if I wanted to convince Chef Monroe that there is a good guy somewhere inside my ex, it would be futile. How anyone views him at this point isn't my concern. We're done. My reputation is the only one on my radar.

"Did you work at Axel?" The soft words escape my lips, barely noticeable when mixed with the pounding pulse of the music.

"Axel Boston," he clarifies. "Your ex-boyfriend was brought in to help. He was such an arrogant prick. Wouldn't listen to a thing I said."

As delightful as this conversation is, and as buzzy as I'm feeling from the vodka in the expensive cocktail Tyler bought me, my bed is calling my name in sweet tones that promise of dreams where no one insults a man I f*cked for months. He may have been a prick, but he was my prick back then. I don't want to regret the time, and emotions, I invested in him more than I already do by hearing stories of what a horrible person he was.

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