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Passionate Chef, Ice Queen Boss
By
Jennie Adams
Rescued In A Wedding Dress
By
Cara Colter
From business plans to seating plans, contracts to confetti, these bosses swap management for marriage!
The Brides of Bella Rosa continues in:
PASSIONATE CHEF, ICE QUEEN BOSS
by Jennie Adams
And here comes the boardroom bride in:
RESCUED IN A WEDDING DRESS
by Cara Colter
For the gentle men in my life. For walking with dignity and grace. For your strength and integrity and giving. Most of all for your love. Right back atcha!
Family Tree
Passionate Chef, Ice Queen Boss
By
Jennie Adams
Australian author JENNIE ADAMS grew up in a rambling farmhouse surrounded by books, and by people who loved reading them. She decided at a young age to be a writer, but it took many years and a lot of scenic detours before she sat down to pen her first romance novel. Jennie has worked in a number of careers and voluntary positions, including transcription typist and pre-school assistant. She is the proud mother of three fabulous adult children and makes her home in a small inland city in New South Wales. In her leisure time Jennie loves long, rambling walks, discovering new music, starting knitting projects that she rarely finishes, chatting with friends, trips to the movies, and new dining experiences.
Jennie loves to hear from her readers, and can be contacted via her website at www.jennieadams.net
Chapter One
‘LORENZO, I sent a message requesting your presence in Luca’s office for a meeting ten minutes ago. Did you not receive it?’ The words were calm. Professional. They stated the facts and requested an explanation of the man’s absence, nothing more or less.
Yes, Scarlett Gibson wanted to tug in frustration on the hot-pink ribbon adorning her ponytail of shoulder-length black hair and, yes, that reaction annoyed her. She hadn’t seen Lorenzo for five years. For the next two months she would be working with him. Scarlett had hoped she would be able to do that without caring much about anything to do with him. After all, that was the state she had been forced to reach after he broke her heart five years ago.
Well, Scarlett hadn’t become a top financial advisor in Australia by losing her control the first time something annoyed her. But she also hadn’t come back to Italy to help out at her uncle Luca’s Rosa restaurant, only to have her authority thwarted by the head chef on her first day at the job.
The source of that thwarting stood inside the kitchen of Rosa with his back to her. A slim, muscular back in a fitted black shirt. He wore black trousers, black shoes on his feet. Did he still wear the gold medallion?
Not that Scarlett cared, though she supposed such thoughts were bound to surface. But, surely, they were no different from her wondering if the stranger on the tram beside her back in Melbourne had her coffee made on full milk or skim!
As Scarlett glanced about the kitchen different things began to register. The scents of rich, melted chocolate blended with the warm heartiness of yeasty savoury bread stuffed with tomato and herbs, onion and garlic and olives. Several loaves of the bread were cooling on trays on a bench. Those scents probably explained why Scarlett’s tummy suddenly felt a bit odd. She’d have to watch that. She didn’t want to eat her way through the next two months. In any case Lorenzo certainly wasn’t the reason for her tummy-consciousness.
Three kitchen hands were at work. A woman who looked to be in her thirties, and two men. Scarlett had bumped into the woman inside the restaurant as she appeared to be arriving for work, and had asked her to let Lorenzo know that she wanted to see him in Luca’s office without delay.
The woman glanced up now and met her gaze. She didn’t look at all guilty or forgetful, which led Scarlett to believe that she had, indeed, passed her message on to Lorenzo.
So what was Lorenzo Nesta’s game? Yes, he appeared to be working with great concentration and, yes, there appeared to be quite a bit going on in the kitchen right now. Various desserts in different stages of production littered the bench space around Lorenzo in what appeared to be a very organised kind of chaos.
Scarlett registered this fact, but it was still quite early in the morning. Lunchtime diners were a long way away. Lorenzo should be able to leave his kitchen hands unsupervised at this time of day, with tasks to keep them going, and give Scarlett the time she needed.
Scarlett’s sherry-brown eyes narrowed. If Lorenzo thought she would chase after him any time she wanted a few words, he needed a lesson in the order of authority in this restaurant. Scarlett’s uncle Luca came first. He was the owner, though he’d told Scarlett that during her time here he didn’t intend to come in, just let her get on with what had to be done.
Cousin Isabella had been managing the restaurant a lot of the time anyway. Isabella was gladly taking a step back to focus on her relationship with her newly found reclusive prince, Maximilliano Di Rossi.
Then came Scarlett in the role of business manager.
And then came the head chef/assistant manager, Lorenzo Nesta. In other words, where Lorenzo was concerned, Scarlett was the boss!
Scarlett gave a determined nod of her head, only to feel a recalcitrant lock of hair slip loose of its beribboned ponytail.
Confound it all.
Scarlett frowned and blew the lock of hair off her cheek, and glared at that stretch of shoulders in her line of vision.
She had every right to glare. The man was a love rat.
Lorenzo twisted his upper body and glanced over his shoulder at her. ‘Just one minute more.’
‘Just one more—?’ As though she had nothing better to do than stand about and wait for him? Scarlett’s brows went up even as she forced her teeth together over the words that wanted to pour out.
Lorenzo held a slender, hollow stainless-steel tube in his hands. He rotated it with long, deft fingers and Scarlett got a view in profile of a manly cheek already darkened with a hint of beard shadow, a strong nose and chiselled lips pursed in concentration, and the downward sweep of thick lashes over eyes that she knew were the deepest, richest shade of brown.
Not that Scarlett had any particular kind of obsession with dark brown. Well, with the possible exception of it swirling around in a mug with a marshmallow melted in the top of it.
‘Actually, Lorenzo, I’ve been waiting ten minutes already.’ Scarlett uttered the words in a calm tone that nevertheless held a hint of steel within it. ‘You know the way to Luca’s office. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t keep me waiting any longer.’
Scarlett wheeled about and made her way back through the kitchen’s swing doors, through the rear of the indoor dining area past several potted plants and a nook filled with a warm colourful display of bottles of oils and relishes and sauces, and into the corridor that housed Luca’s office.
Mixed feelings walked with her. This return trip to Italy was important to Scarlett for many reasons. She wanted to enjoy Isabella’s company and bond with her again and maybe get in a better place with all of her family here. If that was even possible after so long? Helping Uncle Luca out felt like a good step towards that. She’d hesitated when Isabella had asked her, and that had been because of Lorenzo. But then Scarlett had decided if she was facing down old demons she could just as easily face down this one at the same time. How hard could it be?
‘Scarlett, good morning.’ Her cousin Isabella approached as Scarlett put her hand on the office door. ‘All set for your first day on the job?’
Scarlett stopped, and regrouped. And smiled, because this was Izzie and they had grown up together. They’d had a lot of girlish fun together before she and Scarlett had done something incredibly silly. The ramifications of which were only now settling. Scarlett had punished herself and had moved to Australia, away from her Italian family and friends to get to know her father and his side of her family.
‘Hi, Izzie. Yes, I’m ready for my first day. I didn’t expect to see you in here today. You look glowing. How’s your prince?’
‘Princely as ever.’ Isabella blushed a little, but she also smiled and held out her arms. ‘I’m rather pleased that I’ve found him.’
‘He’s made you happy, so I’m pleased too.’ Scarlett stepped into Izzie’s hug.
There was an ache in the middle of her chest when she let go.
Coming back here always tugged at her emotions. This time she was here to try to help the family out, with a hope of reconnection hiding some place deep inside her that was perhaps unrealistic.
If it was going to make her feel all mushy whenever she came across a family member, Scarlett had better get that reaction right under control, and fast. ‘I have Lorenzo coming in for a meeting. Since you’re here, I’d like to speak with you after that, if possible.’ Her full lips tightened before she went on. ‘I’ll probably have questions for you after I’ve grilled him.’
‘Grilled? You won’t upset—?’ Isabella cut herself off and forced a smile back to her face. ‘You’re the boss. Of course you should manage things here however you feel is right.’ Isabella drew a breath. ‘I’m here to put together a batch of Papa’s special sauce, so I’ll be around for a while. I can speak with you when you’re ready.’
‘Let’s say in about half an hour, then.’ Luca’s secret recipe sauce was a mainstay of the Rosa restaurant’s authentic Italian cuisine. Scarlett wondered what kind of reception she would get when she wanted an accounting of the ingredients list so she could cost-base it.
A hands-off we’re-not-telling reception, she imagined, from both Luca and Isabella. Well, perhaps they could tell her the costs, but not the ingredients?
‘It’s nice to have you back in Italy, Scarlett, and I really appreciate all you’re going to do for Rosa.’ Her cousin’s expression tightened. ‘The money issues are worrying. Max was prepared to invest a cash injection to get Rosa back in a strong financial position, but of course that would have offended Papa and it wouldn’t have really solved anything in the long term. I couldn’t have let Max do that, either, much as I love him for wanting to.’
‘Quite right.’ Simply throwing money at things wasn’t the answer. But with the right changes and improvements, success could be grasped. That was what Scarlett believed, and had proved in her own career path as she climbed the ranks to a highly successful financial advisor in Australia, advising some very respectable companies. She wanted the same for Rosa. She wanted the restaurant to run at a profit and be self-sufficient and successful.
Isabella disappeared and Scarlett stepped into Luca’s office. It would be her headquarters for the time being, though she didn’t intend to be the kind of manager who sat behind her desk all day and didn’t watch what was going on around her. Despite her hope to not need much to do with him, she might have to watch Lorenzo Nesta very closely. Particularly if he thought he could get away with stunts like ignoring her summons when she sent it!
‘Scarlett—’
And speaking of her nemesis, there he was, standing in the doorway of the office looking a little prickly beneath the surface though she could see he was trying hard to mask that. And, she supposed, somewhat attractive.
Not that he appealed to Scarlett any more in any particular way. He’d killed that reaction in her five years ago. Her heart rate had jumped a little just now, but that was as a result of preparing to do battle if necessary.
‘Lorenzo.’ She gestured to the visitor’s chair on the other side of the desk. And really, wasn’t she the one to have the right to some prickliness? She’d only just started here, and already he’d put her morning’s schedule off centre. ‘Please be seated. I want to speak with you about how things have been running here at the restaurant, and how they’ll need to be run from now on. But perhaps you’d care to start by explaining why you ignored my request for this meeting.’
‘I didn’t ignore the request, I just couldn’t drop everything and come to you immediately.’ His chest expanded beneath the black shirt before he carefully exhaled. Scarlett caught sight of a glint of gold around his neck. Was it the chain that he’d had when they first met?
Not that you care, Scarlett.
‘Why couldn’t you leave your staff for a few minutes?’
‘It’s not always possible to walk out of a busy restaurant kitchen without consequences.’ His words were respectful, but also firm. ‘You gave me no notice, just a message that my presence was immediately required.’
‘At this early hour of the day I would have thought you’d be able to spare some time.’ Scarlett tried to keep her gaze locked on his eyes, yet it wandered to the curve of his lips, the strong nose, the very old, small scar over his left eyebrow and despite her determination, a memory stirred.
He’d held her in his arms one day after they’d made love, and had made up outrageous stories about how he got the scar as a child. Each one had been sillier than the last until Scarlett had needed to hold her sides to try to contain her mirth. The truth was that he’d fallen, not very far or excitingly, off a piece of play equipment at school.
That day, Lorenzo had said something strange to her. Sometimes the scars you see are better. I’m happy to wear this one. At least it bears no shame. His gaze had sobered and for a moment Scarlett had felt as though he’d pushed her away, even though she still lay snuggled in his arms. She’d opened her mouth to ask, she hadn’t been sure what, but he’d kissed her again and the moment had passed…
Well, that was then, and what was she doing thinking about this now anyway?
Scarlett wasn’t laughing now. Nor did she want to reminisce about the far distant past of her life. She couldn’t afford to be distracted!
‘We’re very busy in the kitchen today. It’s good that Isabella came in. I’ve asked her to supervise until I can get back.’ Lorenzo drew a deep breath. ‘At least that’s something.’
Did he say that as though Isabella wouldn’t know what she was doing in there?
‘My cousin has worked in the kitchen of Rosa for a long time.’ Isabella could do a just fine job of supervising the staff, or making the meals for that matter. ‘Whether she has a whole lot of bits of paper to say so or not, it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s a more qualified cook than you are.’
Lorenzo made a sound in the back of his throat. ‘Of course I trust Isabella in the kitchen. That’s not what I meant.’
‘Whatever you meant, we’re wasting time.’ Scarlett glared at him across Luca’s desk. If her anger was somewhat of a shield, she wasn’t about to admit it.
Lorenzo stared back and whatever thoughts he had disappeared in his eyes. ‘By all means, please go on with what you need to say.’
‘I will.’ Another curl of Scarlett’s hair slid from its moorings and lay against her cheek. Scarlett gritted her teeth and asked herself how a few minutes in his company could get her so worked up so easily. She’d just finished telling herself she would treat this in a calm, professional manner.
Lorenzo’s gaze clung to her hair for a moment before he raised it to meet her eyes.
Dark brown to sherry brown.
Five years older to aeons wiser.
He’d be thirty-two now. Scarlett was twenty-eight. That extra layer of maturity…flattered him.
‘Do you understand the reason for my presence at Rosa?’ Scarlett didn’t know what Isabella had told him. She doubted Luca would have said much. Her uncle had hidden the state of Rosa’s finances even from Isabella for as long as he could. It had taken effort to get Luca to the point where he was willing to have Scarlett come in to try to clean things up here.
Lorenzo made a ‘Who knows?’ gesture with his hands. ‘You’re here as Financial Manager for the time being. Isabella has relinquished her management to you, though she’ll still be actively involved in the restaurant in other ways. In other words, you answer only to Luca himself, though he’s been quite scarce here of late.’
‘Good. You understand, then.’ In fact he had a better grip on his knowledge of events than Scarlett had imagined.
Lorenzo examined her face. Maybe he was searching for her response to him? Or maybe he saw a different woman five years on from the one he had known? Well, he’d helped Scarlett to become that woman. Self-contained, determined, career-focused and beyond guarded in some ways. She’d been halfway there before she even met Lorenzo.
‘As Head Chef and Assistant Manager you will answer directly to me. Everything you do will be under my scrutiny, and I expect your full co-operation with any changes I decide to make to improve the financial bottom line of the restaurant.’ This was what needed to be said.
‘I run a good kitchen and do my best with the resources Luca has allowed me.’ He spoke the words and then clamped his lips together before he added, ‘All of us have had to work within the framework of Luca’s feelings about employing and buying locally and treating the staff in some ways as a big family.’
And Luca loved to be generous and giving. This was something Isabella had brought up and, though her cousin hadn’t gone into much detail, Scarlett had wondered whether this had caused problems for Isabella in her management efforts. Scarlett would look into it.
‘I’m accustomed to co-operation, Lorenzo. This morning, by your actions, you communicated to other members of the staff here that I can wait until it suits you if I request a meeting.’ She drew a breath. ‘I don’t want to have to make changes to the staffing here, but I also will not work with a head chef who doesn’t respect my authority.’
Scarlett’s message was clear, and clearly received if the tightening of Lorenzo’s expressive mouth was any indication.
‘We received a special order—’ He cut the words off and shook his head. ‘My apologies for not attending you immediately. It would be great if in future you could give me a little notice so I can leave the kitchen without any negative impact on the work there, but if you can’t, you can’t. I will still co-operate with you to the fullest.’
He held her gaze with a level one of his own. ‘I value this job. Every step I take is aimed at making the best of Rosa that I possibly can.’
‘Then I’m sure we understand each other and will get along just fine.’ Scarlett’s fingers closed over a typed list on Luca’s desk. ‘I’d like to discuss the current staffing policies with you. I understand from Isabella that you’ve been given a fairly free rein to make decisions about the number of kitchen hands employed at any given time, how you roster them, that sort of thing.’
‘I have enough kitchen hands to meet the kitchen’s needs. Some of them, Luca has speared into the positions when I…might not have chosen them for the work, but I do my best with the workers I have.’
It wasn’t a negative statement. Scarlett got the impression it was an honest one.
Lorenzo named staff members. He explained whether they were full or part time, hours they worked and what their roles were. ‘There is room for all of them to improve their skills in one way or another. I work on that on a daily basis.’
For a restaurant the size of Rosa, the staffing levels seemed appropriate. ‘I’ll want to examine your kitchen roster some time in the next day or two.’ And the wages and staff conditions, but those weren’t Lorenzo’s responsibility.
There had to be reasons why Rosa didn’t make a better bottom line financially. Scarlett would turn the restaurant inside out to discover those reasons and fix them.
For now she needed to know: ‘How economical are you with your cooking methods? What are you doing to reduce ingredient wastage? How often do you have Isabella in to supervise the making of the special tomato sauce?’
‘Within the guidelines I have to work with, I believe I’m being quite economical.’ Lorenzo stared into Scarlett’s sherry-brown eyes and assured himself he could and would finish this interview in a calm relaxed manner no matter how many questions Scarlett threw at him or how less than happy to see him she might appear to be. And no matter how concerned he felt about his job security with Scarlett now in a position to decide his fate.
He didn’t need any more ripples in his work record, but what could he do besides work hard and perform to the best of his ability?
Regret tugged at him. It wasn’t easy to look into Scarlett’s lovely face and keep memories at bay. That was a problem he’d worried over since he first heard she would be coming to Rosa to act as Financial Manager. He wanted to ask how she’d been—was she happy? So many things. He couldn’t ask any of those questions. It was all long gone, the mistakes and missteps were made. He couldn’t fix the past. And his present.
‘I maintain a high standard in my kitchen.’ Best to stick to these things with her. Best not to notice her too much, and he was trying not to notice how lovely she looked in the prissy cream blouse. She’d teamed it with a deep crimson and cream pinstriped skirt that had clung to her hips as she stalked out of the kitchen minutes ago.
The clothes were businesslike yet still practical for Italy’s summer weather. But did Scarlett think the outfit made her look severe? Remote? If so, she didn’t have much idea. Her hair slipping from its moorings put paid to that, as did the bright pink ribbon that adorned the silky black mass.
That and the softness that she couldn’t quite hide, deep in the backs of her guarded eyes. She might play the tough boss lady, but it was clear she still had…her softer side.
‘My reputation and that of the restaurant are on the line with every meal produced.’ His tone wanted to soften. He forced it to remain businesslike. His job could be on the line here, which meant he couldn’t let himself indulge in memories of the past when, for a time before it all went wrong, he and Scarlett had been happy together.
He forced the words out. ‘If a dish is substandard it’s thrown away, but my ultimate goal is to ensure everyone on my team works hard enough and carefully enough to always produce a dish worthy of the standards of Rosa.’
‘Throwing meals out at all—that’ll have to stop.’ Scarlett leaned forward in her chair.
‘Sometimes things happen even in the best kitchens, Scarlett.’ Did she really imagine that could be otherwise?
‘Well, I suppose so.’ Scarlett’s pretty nose scrunched.
‘Now and then a patron will throw a fit over a perfectly good meal, too, and send it back.’ From time to time, this happened. ‘It’s important to maintain goodwill, even when we know the restaurant is in the right.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Scarlett drummed one slender set of fingers on the desk before she stopped the movement abruptly. ‘I want to be brought in on it if I’m here and a diner carries on like that.’
So Lorenzo could hide behind her skirts while she took care of things for him? Pride rose up. He pushed aside all knowledge of the edge of shame that went with it. What did they say?
If you don’t acknowledge it, it doesn’t exist.
His father was certainly good at that. Well, at ignoring Lorenzo’s existence much of the time, now that his son had ‘dishonoured the family with his behaviour’. Lorenzo wasn’t in a position where he could explain himself to his family.
And now was not the time to dwell on any of that!
‘I assure you I am quite able to deal with any difficult patrons here.’
‘Well, I know that.’ She said it as though any other option was ridiculous.
And Lorenzo realised he might have overreacted. He could thank his past with Marcella for that. Well, he could thank that past for a few things, couldn’t he? ‘Regarding Isabella making the trademark sauce, I keep her informed of the supply. She tops it up when needed so we make sure we never run out.’
Maybe if he made it clear to Scarlett that he had a good knowledge of the restaurant’s workings, she would feel more able to work with him to achieve whatever she needed to here. Lorenzo needed to know just what her goals were and what she would expect of him.
He’d worked closely with Isabella, and she’d handed plenty of responsibility to him. That had suited him, but what did Scarlett want? ‘Is the restaurant in real trouble? Are jobs secure? Isabella only said you’d be working to improve our bottom line. She didn’t cover the why of it.’
Scarlett hesitated for so long, he’d almost decided she wasn’t going to answer. Finally she said, ‘The restaurant has been running at a loss, I believe for quite some time.’ The moment the words were out, she glared at him. ‘You’re being trusted with that information because I need your co-operation and full disclosure from you to enable me to do my work here properly and get Rosa back in the black. If you discuss this fact with anyone, or if you hold anything back—’
‘What kind of man do you think I am?’ Lorenzo’s nostrils flared.
But they both knew the answer, didn’t they? To Scarlett, Lorenzo was a man who had let her down. The answer shone in her eyes for a moment before she glanced away.
‘You won’t lose your job due to financial reasons.’ Scarlett uttered the words in a low tone. ‘Luca and Isabella both speak highly of you and want to keep you here. I am determined to turn the restaurant around so it starts making a profit, and continues to do so. If you prove to be good for Rosa as they are saying you are, and you’re respectful to me and my authority, then I’m sure your job will be quite safe, too.’
Her assurance helped somewhat. Scarlett might feel angry towards him because of their shattered past love affair. But if she said his job wasn’t in jeopardy provided he continued to work well, Lorenzo should be safe. He wished it didn’t have to matter so much to him, but it did. He needed every Euro of his wages to help him save for his ultimate future. That future was a long way away, years still, but he was doing his best.
So now he only had to make sure Scarlett didn’t fire him for any other reason, and he hoped, over time, that she would see his commitment to Rosa.
Scarlett seemed to make an effort to centre her thoughts once again. ‘I’m sorry for all the questions, but your answers will help me prioritise how I approach change here.’ She drew a breath. ‘What are the most popular dishes and how do they stack up in terms of profit margins? Do you buy one hundred per cent only local produce?’
‘We always use local produce if possible, otherwise I shop nearby for other things.’ The restaurant had a small van for that purpose. He listed the most popular dishes. Many of them used Luca’s secret sauce. ‘As Luca’s rules about local produce have been hard and fast, I haven’t looked into how much money we might be losing by buying locally but there are times when I think there would be a substantial difference.’
‘I see. Well, thank you. I can see I have a lot of things I need to look into.’ Scarlett got to her feet in a single, lithe movement.
Meeting over, apparently. For a moment he wondered if she would shake his hand. But she simply strode to the door in the cream pumps that matched her blouse exactly.
Lorenzo dragged his gaze upwards away from tanned slender legs. ‘My history in restaurants has taught me a lot. If you want to discuss any aspect of Rosa at any time—’
‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ Scarlett’s brows drew together and she took a half-step towards him before she stopped and tugged the door wider. ‘I’ll let you get back to work.’
Lorenzo stepped forward too, until he was even with her. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, catapulted him back to happy times between them before the complications of his life had wrecked everything for both of them. Could either one of them hope to truly get through her working here, and just ignore all that? ‘Scarlett, the past—’
‘Is irrelevant between us now.’ She acknowledged its existence and dismissed it with a wave of one hand, all in the space of seconds. ‘I can assure you, from my perspective it is long forgotten!’
He might have believed it, he supposed. That Miss Scarlett Gibson quite frankly didn’t give a damn.
Yes, Lorenzo might have believed that if he hadn’t seen the burn of hurt deep in the backs of her eyes that had nothing to do with Rosa or now or here, and everything to do with that past.
‘I’m glad to hear you’re okay with that.’ Lorenzo turned on his heel and went back to his kitchen where he at least had the hope of telling himself he was somewhat in charge and in control. He needed that. Marcella’s treatment, her behaviour towards him, had left him with the need to…find self-esteem within his work. It was a cliché, he supposed, but Lorenzo was honest enough to admit it about himself.
As for Scarlett’s position here as the new boss, Lorenzo wanted to believe the two of them could work together without things turning catastrophic. Surely they could.
Couldn’t they?
