Getting Rich (A Chef Landry Mystery) by Monique Domovitch Page B

shit.”
    In more ways than one , sweetheart. I jutted out my bottom lip, copying a sexy pout I’d seen Toni do very effectively on a few occasions. “I’ll miss you.”
    It must have worked because his smile lit the room. “I promise I’ll think of you all the time.”
    “You will?”
    “Every minute of every hour.” That might have sounded more romantic without the teasing glint in his eyes. “By the way, you look amazing today.”
    “That’s because I was on television this morning.” I gave my hair a toss, à la Toni, but only succeeded in whipping a lock into my eyes. I brushed it away.
    “You were on TV? Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “I figured you’d be too busy to watch.”
    “Even so, I could have recorded the show and watched it later.”
    I told him all about the interview over a second cup of coffee, and by the time I left for work, what little lip gloss I’d had left was gone, and his nice shirt was wearing more makeup than I was. It almost made up for the fact that he would be gone for two weeks. Almost .
     

a steady flow of fat paychecks in my future

    I walked into the restaurant, fighting against the wind to close the door, and slipped out of my parka. From the back of the room where he’d been setting a table, Jake came to a full stop, giving me an appreciative stare just as Charles came out of the kitchen. “Oh. My. God. You look amazing.”
    “I do?” I said, hoping he’d say it again.
    He strode over. “You are hot ,” he gushed, opening his arms for a hug, and squeezing until I squealed. This was an even better reaction than I’d had from Mitchell. “Hey, Jennifer, guys,” he called over his shoulders. “Nicky’s here.” He stepped back, studying me closely. “You should always wear your makeup that way.” I guess Mitchell’s smooching hadn’t erased all of it.
    He and Toni were two of a kind, forever trying to convince me to glam up. Since the ad campaign, using my before and after pictures, I was making more of an effort. I now routinely wore mascara and lip gloss, but that was as far as I would go. As far as I was concerned, spending hours putting on makeup when it would only melt away in our hot and steamy kitchen was a complete waste of time.
    “Enjoy it while you can because I refuse to spend half an hour painting my face every morning.”
    The guys came pouring out of the kitchen, staring at me as if I were some new dish they were considering for our menu. Jennifer walked over, staring closely at my makeup.
    “She looks great, doesn’t she?” asked Jake, nodding his approval.
    “You sure do,” said Jennifer. “I wish I could do my eyes that way.”
    I swear, I was liking that girl more all the time.
    Marley and Jake gathered round. “Way to go.”
    “You look hot.”
    Toni waltzed in from the back, still wearing her shrink-wrap dress. “You won’t believe the buzz from our interview. The phone has been ringing off the hook. We’re booked solid for the next month.”
    Jake grabbed the reservations book, setting it on a table and pulling me a chair. “It’s true. Look.”
    I sat and he flipped page after page, and indeed many of the spaces were filled. “I wouldn’t call that booked solid. There are what, ten or twelve dinner reservations a day?”
    “That’s already twice as many dinner customers as we usually get,” Toni said.
    “And the calls are still coming in,” added Jake. “I bet by the end of the day all the spaces will be filled. You’ll see.” He started toward the kitchen and stopped. “Before I forget, Edna Jamieson called.”
    The name sounded vaguely familiar. “Who’s she?”
    He shrugged. “She’s a regular, comes in at least three or four times a week. I’m sure you must have noticed her. She’s middle aged and tiny—under five feet tall. She has gray hair and tends to wear tweeds and jeweled brooches.”
    Toni’s eyebrows rose. “I think Edna could use a fashion consultant.”
    I frowned. “What does she