“In about six weeks,” Liz said. “Until then I’m your resident shrink.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Katy glanced at her watch. It was nearly four-thirty. She was looking forward to her five o’clock swim tonight. Luke would be coming over for dinner this evening, as usual, and she intended to try out another recipe on him and his dog. She needed to wash a lot of spinach leaves for her latest pesto creation.
She hurried downstairs.
The sight of Justine’s drawn face was a shock. Katy frowned in concern as she walked into the living room.
“Justine, are you all right?”
“Calm yourself.” Justine smiled wearily. “There is nothing physically wrong with me. Sit down, Katy. I want to talk to you.”
Katy sat. “What’s the problem?”
“My grandson, of course. When I think about it, he has been the problem one way or another for some time now. Some days I wish I had never taken the risk of turning Gilchrist, Inc. over to him. Other days I tell myself he is the only hope this company and this family have. But today is one of the days when I think I may have made a grave mistake.”
Katy relaxed a little. Justine was always grumbling about Luke. It meant nothing. “What’s he done to upset you now?”
“He intends to ask you to marry him.”
Katy opened her mouth, found no words, and closed it. She waited a couple of seconds and tried it again. “He what?”
“You heard me. He apparently plans to ask you to marry him.”
“I don’t believe it.” Katy surged to her feet. She felt shell-shocked and giddy. A part of her was soaring free with happiness. But another, more realistic part was sure there was some terrible mistake. Somewhere another shoe was about to drop.
“It’s true, all right,” Justine said. “The question is, how do you feel about it?”
“I’m not sure,” Katy admitted.
Justine’s eyes turned bleak. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid of that. I knew you wouldn’t have become so intimately involved with him if you didn’t love him. Have you told him?”
“No.”
“My advice is that you refrain from doing so. Katy, he’s different from you. You’re honest, straightforward, and open. But Luke is...well, very deep.”
“I know that. He’s a Gilchrist.” Katy turned to face Justine. “You’re trying to warn me that he may be pursuing some objective of his own, right? That even if he asks me to marry him, he may not be serious about it?”
“We must face reality, Katy. My grandson is still an unknown quantity to all of us. We knew at the beginning that his motive for assuming control of Gilchrist might be vengeance.”
“How would marrying me fit into any revenge plan he might have concocted?” Katy asked.
“It is entirely conceivable that his agenda is to destroy the company and, as a final act of vengeance, restage the humiliating debacle that took place thirty-seven years ago. Only this time it would be you, not your mother, who was left at the altar.”
Katy was stunned. “You can’t be serious. Luke would never do that to me. He doesn’t hate me.”
“Of course he doesn’t hate you.” Justine shook her head sadly. “It’s me he would be trying to humiliate and crush. And I think he has guessed that leaving you at the altar would hurt me more than anyone could possibly realize. Luke is very, very clever. He knows the truth.”
“What truth?”
Justine stared at her. “I believe Luke realizes that although I have tried to pretend otherwise, there is nothing I would like better than to see you married to him.”
Katy sat down again. Hard. “You want me to marry him?”
“I was not merely indebted to your grandfather for all the help he gave me during my early years in the restaurant business. God help me, I was in love with him.”
“Justine, I had no idea.”
“Neither did he. Or if he did, he was too kind to say anything.” Justine sighed. “He was happily married to your grandmother. I knew I could never give him the sunshine and joy that she gave him. So I called myself a friend of the family and pretended that was enough. Some friend. In the end I was no friend at all.”
“That’s not true, Justine. You were my friend when I needed one.”
“Thank you, Katy. That means a lot to me. Thirty-seven years ago I thought I would be content if I could unite the families through the marriage of my son and your mother. I wanted that marriage to take place with all my heart. It was almost as important to me as Gilchrist, Inc.”
“Almost.” Katy smiled wryly. “But not quite?”
“No. Not quite. The company meant everything to me. It was my children’s and grandchildren’s inheritance. The future of the family was tied up with the restaurants. I had no right to surrender that future unless I knew for certain I would be surrendering it to family.”
“And as much as you loved my grandfather, the Quinnells were not family.”
“No. And I lost my chance to make them family when my eldest son ran off with his little slut of a secretary.”
“You mean when he ran off with Luke’s mother,” Katy corrected her firmly.
“Whatever. But I have never completely forgotten my dream of uniting the families. For a while I rather hoped that you and Darren might get together.”
Katy smiled. “Not a chance. Darren and I could never be anything more than friends.
“I soon realized that. But I did not give up. When I learned Luke was widowed it occurred to me that one day there might still be a chance to bring the Quinnells and the Gilchrists together through marriage?”
“Justine, you are unbelievable. Devious, clever, and dangerous.”
“Desperate, my dear. Not dangerous. But now that my fondest wish appears to have come true, I realize I am very much afraid.”
“Because you think Luke has guessed your secret and has deliberately set out to build up your hopes and then bring them crashing down.”
“Just as his father did. And, being Luke, he will no doubt bring Gilchrist, Inc. down along with all my other secret dreams.”
Katy smiled slowly. “You know what your problem is, Justine?”
“What?”
“You’re too much of a Gilchrist. You’re always looking for the dark, melodramatic side to everything. You’ve got to have more faith in your own family.”
“I know this family far better than you do,” Justine muttered. “I assure you there is a great risk that we are all doomed if you agree to marry Luke.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Are you sure I can’t help?” Katy lounged against the counter in Luke’s kitchen and surveyed the chaotic scene. She was impressed.
Plates, pans, wire whisks and long-handled spoons lay everywhere. There was a massive pile of freshly washed, still-dripping spinach in a bowl. The makings for a vinaigrette dressing were set out nearby. Water was boiling on the stove for pasta. A round of sourdough bread waited on the cutting board. Judging from the amount of egg white in one bowl, Luke was going to attempt a soufflé.
“No, thanks.” Luke’s fierce features were set in lines of deep concentration as he minced capers, olives, parsley, and anchovies. “Everything’s under control.”
“I didn’t know you enjoyed cooking,” Katy said.
“What did you expect? I was raised in the restaurant business.” He swore softly as an olive skittered out from under the knife. It rolled off the cutting board and onto the floor. Zeke ambled forward to eat it.
“This is a real treat for me,” Katy continued. She hid a smile as another olive rolled off onto the floor. Zeke quickly devoured the evidence. “I can’t remember the last time someone cooked a meal for me. Matt’s idea of cooking is to stick a frozen pizza in the oven.”
&
nbsp; “Kids,” Luke said indulgently. “Victims of the fast food mentality. You gotta feel sorry for ‘em. Wonder who’s going to do the cooking for the next generation.”
Katy grinned. “Maybe everyone will eat out more often. That’ll be good for Gilchrist, Inc. and Pesto Presto.”
“Good point. Damn.” Luke dropped the knife and went to the stove.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. The water’s already boiling. I’m not ready to cook the pasta.”
“So turn the water off. Luke, I had a long talk with Justine today.”
“Yeah? So did I.” Luke switched off the pasta water and picked up a notebook that was lying on the counter. He frowned over it intently.
“She seemed somewhat upset.”
“She’s always upset. It’s in the blood.”
Katy blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Forget it. Hand me that pan, will you?”
Katy picked up the skillet and gave it to him. She watched as Luke put it on the stove and coated the bottom with olive oil. A great deal of olive oil, she noticed.
“The thing is, Luke, she doesn’t seem to feel she can trust you completely. She wants to believe you’re going to save Gilchrist, but a part of her is still afraid you’re only here to take revenge.”
“That’s her problem.” Luke went back to the notebook, scowling darkly. His scowl deepened as he glanced back over his shoulder at the oil in the skillet.
“Have you told her that you’ve solved the problems at Gilchrist Gourmet?”
“No. I didn’t get around to it. When I saw her yesterday she wanted to talk about another matter.” Luke dumped the minced capers, olives, and anchovies into the skillet.
“So what it boils down to is that you never gave her a logical explanation for what was wrong in the case of the two restaurants that were losing money, and she has no idea you’ve stopped the sabotage of Gilchrist Gourmet.”
“Computer problems, remember?”
“I don’t think she bought that.”
“Too bad. There is no logical explanation for what was happening at the two restaurants except the truth. You said I couldn’t tell her that her granddaughter was skimming cash to pay off a blackmailer, so that was that.”
“Of course you couldn’t tell her about Eden. But what about the troubles at Gilchrist Gourmet?”
“As far as Gilchrist Gourmet is concerned, I just haven’t had a chance to tell her about Stanfield’s sabotage.” Luke eyed the vinaigrette fixings as if they were components for a batch of nuclear fuel. He gingerly picked up the whisk. “Would you mind if we discussed this some other time? I’m kind of busy at the moment.”
“No, but I think this explains why Justine is worried about your intentions toward Gilchrist, Inc. Luke, if you would just try to communicate with her and let her know that you’re not out for revenge, it would relieve a lot of her anxiety.”
“Who says I’m not out for revenge?” He held a bottle of olive oil in one hand and tried to drip the oil into the lemon mixture. He was whisking madly with his right hand. Oil and lemon juice spattered the countertop. “You know something? I’d like to throttle a certain chef right now.”
Katy smiled. “I know you’re not out for revenge, Luke.”
“Is that right?” He shot her a surly glance. “How do you know that?”
“Because of what you did for Eden and Darren, among other things.”
“Don’t bet on it. Saving Eden’s and Darren’s rears might have been part of a much larger plan. Hell, I might be plotting to bring all of Gilchrist crashing down.”
“Come on, Luke. Stop making a joke out of it.”
“No joke. I’m serious. Even if I told Justine the truth, she probably wouldn’t believe me. It’s possible the only reason I pulled my cousins’ bacon out of the fire was to buy myself time to carry out my own schemes.” Luke broke off abruptly. He inhaled sharply. “Damn.”
He leapt for the stove and yanked the skillet off the burner. The smell of singed capers, olives, and anchovies rose from the pan. Luke glared at the smoking mixture.
Zeke watched hopefully as Luke carried the skillet over to the sink.
“It’s too hot for you, Zeke,” Katy said softly. “Give it a chance to cool.”
Luke set about mincing more capers and olives with an ominous expression. Katy decided not to try to continue the conversation. She sipped a glass of wine in silence and watched Luke grow increasingly darker of brow.
He made repeated trips back to the notebook, muttering softly. Katy winced when he began whipping egg whites for the soufflé. Disaster loomed, she was sure, but she dared not say anything. For some reason Luke was trying to pretend he was a master chef.
By the time they sat down at the table Luke’s jaw was rigid. His eyes were very green as he passed the salad to Katy.
“Wonderful,” Katy murmured as she helped herself. She noticed the dressing had not adhered to the leaves. Luke had forgotten to dry the spinach after washing it.
Luke took a bite and swore. “It’s watery.”
“Just a bit damp. Wonderful flavors in the dressing.”
Luke tentatively tasted the main dish. His face darkened. “The pasta’s mushy.”
“Nonsense. It’s terrific.” Katy munched enthusiastically on the soggy pasta.
“Don’t bother trying to lie about it,” Luke growled. “It’s mushy.”
“Perhaps it was boiled just a wee bit too long. But it’s no big deal, Luke. I didn’t even notice it until you mentioned it.” There was no point adding that the pasta was also stone cold. Luke could figure that out for himself.
“I know five-star cuisine when I taste it,” Luke said. “And so do you. This isn’t it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not going to worry about it. I’m going to fire that son of a bitch.’’
“Who?”
“Benedict Dalton.”
Katy stared at him in astonishment. “The chef at the Pacific Rim? Why on earth would you want to fire him?”
“He set me up.”
“Good heavens, Luke. What a ridiculous thing to say. How on earth could he do that?”
“Never mind.” Luke eyed her plate. “Are you sure it all tastes okay?”
Katy recognized the desperate appeal of the cook who knows things have gone terribly wrong. “It’s wonderful, Luke.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He looked doubtful but clearly did not want to argue the point. There was silence at the table for several minutes.
“Is something wrong, Luke?” Katy finally asked.
“No.”
“You seem preoccupied tonight. Maybe this wasn’t a good evening to try to get together.”
“Matt’s working, and he won’t be home until midnight. I figured this was my best shot.”
“At what?”
Luke looked uncharacteristically tense, even uncertain. It occurred to Katy that in all the time she had known him she had never seen him with quite that expression in his gleaming eyes. It was as if he were dealing with something that was out of his control. The experience was obviously an unusual one for him.
“Did Justine say anything else to you today?” Luke asked bluntly. “I mean besides the fact that she doesn’t trust me?”
Katy concentrated on collecting a forkful of the mushy pasta. It was not easy to get the stuff to curl around the fork. “No. Not really. Mostly she just talked about how concerned she is. She wonders if she did the right thing in asking you to come here.”
“Katy, look at me.”
Reluctantly Katy raised her eyes and found him watching her with shattering intensity. “Well...”
“Tell me the truth. You’re no good at lies, not even white ones. What else did she say to you?”
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Katy flushed furiously. She picked up her water glass. “She said something about being careful. She’s afraid I’m getting too involved with you.”
“What else?”
“Luke, please, this is getting awkward.”
“She told you I was going to ask you to marry me, didn’t she?”
Katy felt herself going red from head to toe. She tried to swallow a sip of water and wound up choking on it. She began to sputter and cough.
“I knew it.” Luke put down his fork, stood up, and slapped her between the shoulder blades. “That old witch is really beginning to annoy me.”
“She’s not an old witch,” Katy gasped. She managed to catch her breath. “She’s just concerned, that’s all.”
“She’s an interfering busybody who thinks she can run everyone else’s life. Hell, nothing is going right tonight. I knew this was going to be a disaster.” Luke pounded her on the back one last time and sat down. “So what’s your answer?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.” He gave her a ferocious scowl. “What’s your answer?”
Katy realized this was his proposal of marriage. Her eyes widened in outrage. “I haven’t heard the question.”
“You know damn well what the question is. Are you going to marry me or not?”
Katy tossed down her napkin. “Luke Gilchrist, that is a disgraceful way to ask a woman to marry you. You should be ashamed of yourself. I expected more from a Gilchrist.”
“Yeah? What did you expect?”
“Roses and champagne. Maybe a moonlight stroll on the beach—heck, I don’t know. I’m not the dramatic one around here.” Katy glowered at him. “I’ll tell you something else. I resent the implication that I don’t deserve a full-dress proposal. Where are the hearts and flowers? Why aren’t you on your knees? You think I’m not worth the effort?”
“Effort?” Luke was incensed. “You don’t think I put any effort into this?” He indicated the mushy pasta and the bowl of wet spinach with a sweeping gesture of his hand. “I slaved for hours under that tyrant Dalton. He was supposed to teach me how to make a gourmet meal. Today I spent all afternoon in the kitchen busting my ass to produce this dinner. And this is the thanks I get?”