The Allure of Dean Harper (The Allure #2)(22)

“Zoe, the manager I told you about from my first night at Provisions. She’s super awesome.”

Josephine nodded.

“And then this guy named Hunter who gave off major creeper vibes the entire meeting.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“He was just so smarmy, like a New Jersey car salesman or something. He was covered in sweat when he got there and his suit barely fit over his beer belly. He gave me this flirty smile when I introduced myself to him, completely ignoring the big fat wedding ring on his left hand.”

“Oh, gross.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, but then he asked if I wanted to get lunch with him, alone, after the meeting.”

Her eyes widened. “What?!”

“I know.”

“What’d you say?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Dean called him back into the office before I could respond.”

The customers in front of us finished ordering and we moved up to the front of the line.

“Hi, is this your first time to Uptown Crêperie?” asked the chipper cashier behind the cash register.

“Yes, but I’m not new to crêpes. I’d like a smores crêpe, a truffled caprese crêpe, and one of the apple cinnamon crème br?lée crêpes.”

“Lily!” Josephine laughed. “That’s enough food for an army.”

“What? I’m going to review it all for my blog. I swear!”

“Uh huh. I use that same logic when I want to splurge on a Rebecca Minkoff purse.”

I swiped my card and signed the receipt, already excited to take photos of the crêpes for my next blog post. I hadn’t done a review of a crêperie in New York yet.

“Are we at least going to share those?” Josephine asked.

I glanced over at her with narrowed eyes. “Jo, I love you. I really do, but if you touch my crêpes, I’m gonna have to stab you with my fork.”





Chapter Seventeen


Lily





I consider myself a decent person. I never steal candy from the bulk bins at the grocery store, I always bus my table at restaurants where it’s clear that you’re meant to, and I always let old people have my seat on the subway when it’s full. (Okay maybe I just got elbowed out of my seat by a gruff grandma in the Bronx, but I’m counting it.) All of those good deeds didn’t help the fact that I was about to become a murderer.

It was inevitable.

“You’re not listening to me!” I said. “Here are all the reasons that the restaurant should have a Spanish name.”

Dean wiped his hand down his face, clearly tired of arguing with me. We were back in his office, all five team members crammed into a space that seemed to be getting smaller by the minute.

Julian fidgeted in his seat, angling his body ever so slightly away from where I stood. Zoe leaned against the doorframe, watching Dean and I go at it with a little smile across her lips. Hunter hadn’t spoken in the last fifteen minutes; he was too busy scrolling through his phone. The little trackball on his Blackberry made a ticking sound every time his finger scrolled over it and I was five seconds away from grabbing his phone and throwing it across the room.

“Lily. Do you know why my restaurants are successful?” Dean asked, leaning forward across his desk.

I rolled my eyes and threw my hands up in the air. “I would say dumb luck, but I have a feeling it’s probably thanks to Zoe.”

“Knucks,” said Zoe, holding out her fist for me to pound.

He ignored my sarcasm. “It’s because I control every single detail, from the menu prices down to the nails they use during construction.”

I arched a brow. “That style of leadership only works when you’re infallible, and last time I checked, you’re not a god. You have to be able to recognize when other people just know better than you.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, his brows furrowing in disbelief. Had anyone ever talked to him the way I did? How could they not?

“No one likes a tyrant! Especially one who is so stuck in his ways that he doesn’t even realize a good idea when it’s right in front of him.”

He rubbed his hand over his mouth, probably trying to keep the curse words from spilling out. I was being harsh, unprofessional, and rude. Unfortunately, it was the only way I could get a word in edgewise with him. He’d blow right over me if I didn’t speak up.

“Let’s reiterate the roles really quickly,” Dean said, pointing to me. “You are here to help me with the food, drinks, and ambiance. End of story.” He pointed to himself. “I will handle every other detail of the restaurant, including the name.”

I crossed my arms, feeling my face flush with anger.

Sorry Mom.

You raised a murderer.

My eyes glanced over his desk for a sharp instrument to stick in his black-hole-of-a-heart, but there was nothing, save for an expensive pen clutched in his fist.

“You know what I think we need?” Zoe asked, pushing off the doorframe and circling back behind Dean’s desk. Her head barely came up to his shoulders, but he still looked down in fear of what she was about to say. “Some team bonding.”

Hunter grunted and Julian laughed. I stood in silence, waiting for Dean’s reaction.