Ready To Burn (Due South Book 3) by Tracey Alvarez

up on the couch, tucking her feet under her and smoothing her skirt.
    Holly’s gaze zipped to Shaye’s bare legs. “What happened to your knees? Is that why you’re pissed at Westlake junior? And what on earth is he doing back in Oban a month before West’s wedding?”
    Shaye held up a palm. “Whoa, Hol. One question at a time.”
    “Fine.” Holly got up and went into her tiny kitchen. She flung open the door of her fridge. “White, milk, or dark—what’s your poison?”
    “Definitely a night for all three.”
    “That bad?” Holly dragged out a plastic container with a cross taped to the lid. “But not bad enough for a glass of Hol’s remedy for big dumb males?” She fished out a wine bottle and waved it encouragingly. “Take the edge off?”
    Shaye arched an eyebrow and said nothing. Holly flashed an unrepentant grin and put the wine back into the fridge, grabbing two Dr. Pepper’s, instead. “I’ve been saving these. This Del Westlake story better be worth it.”
    “Oh. It’s worth it, Hol. The arrogant, insufferable jerk.”
    “Ouch.” Holly pried off the container lid. “While I’m fixing our emergency rations, start at the beginning.”
    Reaching up to adjust her ponytail, which had somehow gone feral on the march to her friend’s, Shaye gave a quick recount of the evening.
    Holly carried over a plate loaded with broken chunks of chocolate and the two cans of soda.
    “Let me get this straight,” Holly said after Shaye lunged for the soda and cracked open the tab. “Del, whom no one in Oban except his bro has seen for thirteen years, has rocked back into town.”
    “Yep.”
    “And he’s going to be head chef at Due South for the next few weeks.”
    “Over my dead body.” Shaye gulped, and the soda fizzed up her nose making her cough.
    Which reminded her of the humiliating ferry debacle.
    God. Maybe Hol would mistake the heat glowing in her cheeks as being righteously indignant. Which Shaye totally was.
    How could Bill and West think Del could do a better job as head chef? She jammed a chunk of dark chocolate into her mouth and sucked greedily. It’d go straight to her butt, but what the hell. Being thwarted by that man warranted something other than her usual cup of diet hot chocolate.
    “Sweets, weren’t you complaining the other day how overworked and understaffed you guys are with Bill sick?”
    Shaye had a mouthful of chocolate, so she could only glare and stab a finger at Holly’s slightly smug expression.
    “Yes, I know that’s not the point, and he’s a horrible, despicable bastard who should be fed to the Great Whites.” Holly leaned over from the other end of the couch and selected a chunk of white chocolate.
    “You knew Due South needed another chef, and fast.”
    Shaye swiped the tip of her tongue around her mouth and gusted out a sigh. “Yessss—but I thought I’d help choose a chef. That I’d be in charge.”
    “Ah. The in-charge, everything has to be perfect thing.”
    What was wrong with aiming for perfection—or close to it? “Del thinks because he’s worked sous in LA, he knows how to run this kitchen. Dammit, Due South’s mine—” She squeezed her fingers around the can. “Well, technically it’s Bill and West’s, and you know how territorial Bill is, but…”
    “But you hoped someday it’d be yours?”
    “Yeah. Look, none of us ever expected Del to come back. Bill never talks about him—he’s practically disowned the man—and any time he mentioned the future of Due South he talked about me taking over, not Del .” 
    “Well, maybe Due South still will be yours, sweets. Just not today,” her friend said gently. “Like it or not, if Bill’s decided Del’s going to be head chef for a while, you bitching about it won’t change his mind. Bill’s a Taurus, stubborn as they come. Besides, if Del’s been working in Hollywood, he can’t be a totally incompetent ass.”
    Actually, she imagined Del was very good at his job. Being a bigger