"This is nice. I've never been in this hotel, but the rooms are lovely."

Cale glanced around as he followed Alex into his hotel room. It had been twenty years since he'd stayed at this particular hotel. It was owned by an immortal who ensured that the windows had blackout curtains and the closets had outlets for special travel refrigerators. That thought in mind, Cale paused to open the sliding glass door to see if his blood had been delivered. The closet was empty.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked coming up beside him.

Cale forced away a frown. "Nothing. I was just debating whether to change or not."

She looked him up and down. "Well, I guess that depends on whether you were planning to help me finish the painting or not ... I mean, you don't have to if you-"

"I'm helping," he interrupted as she began to babble.

"Thanks," Alex said softly, and then cleared her throat. "Then you should probably change. You seem to have managed to avoid getting any on your suit yet, but I wouldn't want you to tempt fate." She glanced around and then said, "I need to go to the washroom. You could change out here while I-" She paused suddenly and frowned. "Or did you want to shower or something?"

"Why? Do I stink?" Cale asked with amusement, and she flushed.

"No, of course not. I just thought, well I always feel like showering after a flight, and you did spend all those hours over a hot grill and-"

"I'm good. A shower would just delay eating. I'll shower after we finish painting. You go ahead and go to the washroom, and I'll change."

Alex nodded and moved to the bathroom door. "I'll take my time."

Cale wheeled his suitcase to the bed, opened it, and rifled through the contents in search of a casual shirt and jeans. He then quickly stripped off his clothes and began to dress. He'd pulled on his jeans, done them up, and picked up the long-sleeved maroon shirt he'd taken out when a knock sounded at the door. Taking the shirt, he crossed the room to answer it and released a relieved breath when he saw the man on the other side holding a large cooler in hand.

"Come in," he said, and glanced toward the closed bathroom door as he made way for the man to enter.

"Where do you want this?" the deliveryman asked, moving into the room.

"Here." Cale opened the closet door.

"Nice setup," the man said as he paused beside Cale and peered into the unusually deep closet with the plug socket against the back wall. He set down the cooler and plugged it in, explaining, "This is the newest model. Portable. You can hook it into your car lighter if you need to take it on the road."

"Great, thanks." Cale tipped the man and saw him out. He then immediately moved back to the waiting cooler. Squatting in the closet door, he flipped the lid open. One glimpse of the bags of dark red blood inside was enough to make his teeth start to drop, and Cale immediately grabbed a bag and popped it to the sharp tips. He then simply squatted there as the liquid was sucked up into his teeth and body.

Cale hesitated after the first bag, wondering if he had enough time for another, but the fact that his stomach cramps had barely lessened made him decide to take the chance. The bag was only half-empty, however, when the bathroom door began to open.

"Knock knock. I'm coming out. Are you decent?" Alex's voice sang out teasingly, and Cale reacted with all the aplomb you'd expect from a man of his considerable age: He half stumbled and half fell into the closet, pulling the door closed behind him with panic.

"Cale?" he heard Alex say uncertainly from the room. "Where are you?"

Cursing silently, Cale stood up in the closet, and then cursed aloud as his head slammed into the clothing rod.

"Cale?" there was a nervous quality to Alex's voicenow, but it was also drawing closer. She'd heard him banging around and was coming to investigate, he realized with alarm, and immediately tore the half-full bag from his teeth. Big mistake, he realized at once as cold blood splashed across his face and down his chest. Cursing again, he dropped the now-hemorrhaging bag in the cooler, slammed the lid down, and then quickly mopped at his face with his maroon shirt.

He'd barely started on his chest when the closet door began to slide open. Cale instinctively jerked his shirt up in front of his torso to hide any remaining blood as light splashed over him.

"What on earth are you doing in the closet?"

"I wasn't quite dressed yet," Cale blurted.

"Oh," Alex said nonplussed, her gaze sliding over the shirt he held defensively before him, and then to his jeans-clad legs beneath. She was obviously a bit perplexed as to why he was acting like a Victorian virgin when he was only lacking a shirt, but she backed away. "Well, I'll give you another minute then."

Cale sighed as she moved out of sight. He quickly wiped away the remaining blood on his chest, not stepping out of the closet until he heard the bathroom door close again.

Cale took a moment to inspect himself in the mirrorfronted sliding closet door, relieved to see he'd gotten all the blood. He then threw the shirt into the closet on top of the cooler and rushed to his suitcase to retrieve a fresh one, this time a green T-shirt. As he pulled it over his head, he called, "You can come out now."

"Are you sure?" Alex called through the door. "I wouldn't want to catch a glimpse of your bare chest. I might not be able to contain myself."

"I wish," Cale muttered, grimacing at her obvious amusement as he tugged his T-shirt into place. He so wasn't impressing this woman yet. Shaking his head, he walked over and opened the bathroom door, and then stood aside and held his arm out in a gesture for her to exit. "I'm ready to go if you are."

Alex grinned and then walked past him, murmuring, "I applaud you for your courage."

"Courage?" he asked with confusion.

"Hmm." She headed for the door to the hall, swinging her purse gaily as she went. "Many men find it difficult to come out of the closet."

Cale was sure she was making a joke at his expense but didn't understand it. Shaking his head, he grabbed his coat from the bed and followed her out of the room.

Grocery shopping was an incredibly interesting experience for Cale. Food had certainly changed since he'd last indulged in eating. Instead of having to hunt it down, slay, clean, and cook it yourself, you could now buy it already prepared or even cooked for you and ready to eat. He'd known this, of course-he wasn't completely ignorant of the world he lived in-but he'd never actually had a reason to be in a grocery store and never seen one for himself. That made it all much more interesting, and he found himself hanging over counters, dawdling in the aisles, and picking up almost everything he saw. And absolutely everything looked good.

"Good Lord," Alex said with exasperation, grabbing his arm to urge him away from the baked-goods section. "One would think you'd never been shopping."

"I haven't," he muttered without thinking. When she turned on him sharply, he quickly added, "Not in a North American grocery store."

"Oh, right," she said relaxing. "I suppose everything here is different from what you're used to, different brands, different packaging, etc."

"Oui," Cale murmured, eyeing the deli counter as she urged him past it. There were some wonderful smells coming from it.

"I think that's everything," Alex murmured, selecting several packages of sliced meat and cheese and setting them in the cart. "Let's get out of here."

Nodding, Cale pushed the cart after her as she led him to the front of the store. His mind was on the problem of getting her to agree to his being her manager rather than her chef. Aside from the fact that it would make her much happier to cook than manage, it would definitely be better for him, and yet she seemed to be resisting the idea. At least, she hadn't yet agreed to it.

The ringing of his cell phone distracted him as they reached the cash register, and Cale pulled it out with a frown. Recognizing Lucian's number, he hesitated, his gaze sliding between the phone and the counter Alex was presently unloading their groceries onto.

"Go ahead, I can handle this," Alex said quietly. "At this hour it must be someone in France calling about a business problem."

Cale didn't correct her but nodded and pressed thebutton to take the call, moving away from the cash register as Lucian growled, "Bricker said you were heading over to the restaurant to see Alex. What's happening?"

Cale smiled wryly at the greeting. Lucian wasn't known for "Hello? How are you?" type greetings.

"We're at the grocery store, shopping for a snack." He paused out of earshot and glanced back to watch Alex.

Lucian grunted at this news. "Marguerite's trying to find a chef to replace you, but no luck so far. I understand Leigh and Marguerite gave up their night at the movies to help you out. It won't happen again. I'll not allow it, so if you know a chef that might help, speak up now, or you're going to get a crash course in cooking tomorrow night."

Cale sighed, now understanding the reason for the call. Lucian was pissed about Leigh's helping. He didn't really blame him. Leigh was pregnant, and since she'd lost the last child she'd been carrying, Lucian was extra protective of her. An immortal only lost a child if there was a genetic flaw, something that was rare, and he knew it had upset both of them.

"I may not need a chef," Cale said, and then quickly explained his hope of taking over the business end of things and leaving Alex to cook.

"What's the problem then?" Lucian asked sharply. "She should be jumping at that offer. You're one hell of a businessman."

Cale pulled the phone from his ear to peer at the number again just to be sure it was his uncle. He'd never known the man to give compliments. Leigh wasdefinitely having a beneficial effect on the man. Putting the phone back to his ear, he said, "She's resisting. I suppose after the trouble she had with the project manager, she's afraid to trust someone else."

Lucian grunted, was silent for a minute and then announced, "I'll have Bricker meet you at the new restaurant and help you convince her."

Cale sighed at the suggestion, knowing Lucian meant he would have Bricker use mind control on Alex. The idea was tempting. It would certainly make things easier, but he didn't like the idea of taking the decision from her in that way. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. This is her business, Uncle. She-"

"She isn't aware of all the facts," Lucian interrupted. "And she can't be told. She can't make a proper decision with only half the facts, so I'll make it for her."

"But-"

"She's your life mate," Lucian said grimly. "Your winning her over and convincing her to take up that role will make you happy, her happy, and Sam and Jo happy, which in turn will keep my enforcers happy. I'm sending Bricker."

The announcement was followed by a click, and then dead air. Lucian had hung up.

Muttering under his breath, Cale pocketed the phone and turned to head back to the register in time to stop Alex from paying for the groceries.

"I'm the one who was hungry," he reminded firmly when she appeared about to protest allowing him to foot the bill. Alex hesitated, but then nodded solemnly and didn't argue further.

"Are you all right? " she asked moments later as they drove back to the restaurant. "You seem a bit quiet."

Cale forced a smile. "Just hungry," he assured her, but the truth was he was fretting over Bricker's meeting them at the restaurant to use mind control on Alex. Part of him was irritated at his uncle's underhanded tactics. The man really had no business in their relationship. Not that something as insignificant as it being none of his business had ever stopped Lucian. However, another, much larger, part of Cale was rather relieved at the idea. It would certainly simplify things. That way, Alex would be happy, and he could stay close and woo her.

"Is that Justin?" Alex asked, as they pulled into the parking lot.

"Yes," Cale murmured, spotting Bricker seated in his SUV.

"I wonder what he's doing here," Alex said with a frown. "I hope there isn't something wrong with Sam."

"He's here to help with the painting," Cale said to keep her from worrying unnecessarily. He then decided he'd bribe the man into helping to ensure what he'd just said wasn't a lie.

A loud and rapid banging dragged Alex from sleep. Yawning, she opened her eyes, sat up in bed, and peered around with confusion, slow to comprehend what had woken her. When the banging came again, she tossed the bedsheets and cover aside and got hurriedly to her feet, nearly tripping over her own feet as she stumbled out the door of her bedroom. She managed to make itdownstairs and to the front door without breaking her neck and yanked the door open just as a third round of rapping started.

The young man on her porch caught himself midknock, smiled uncertainly as he took in her flannel pajamas with pandas on them, and said, "Ms. Willan? Alexandra Willan?"

Alex nodded and then shifted to stand on one foot, covering it with her other foot against the cold rushing in at her.

"Here are your keys," the fellow said, raising a hand to dangle them before her.

"My keys?" Alex echoed with confusion.

"Yes ma'am. Your car's all fixed up. Turns out the battery connection had somehow come loose. She's good now. Can you sign here that you received the car?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Alex took the pen and clipboard he offered and signed where he pointed. As she handed the clipboard back, her gaze slid to her vehicle now parked in her short driveway. It looked like it had been cleaned as well as fixed. The salt stains that had marked it were gone. Alex shook her head slightly. She'd left the keys with Cale last night. He'd promised to have someone look at her vehicle for her. Apparently, he'd done as he promised.

"Have a good day."

Alex glanced back to the young man to see that he was heading off her porch. Frowning, she switched feet to warm the one that had been on top of the other, and asked, "What about the bill?"

"Oh, Mr. Argeneau said to send the bill to the restaurant. You should get it in a few days," he said with a wave over his shoulder as he hurried toward a truck idling at the curb.

"Thank you!" Alex called as he slid into the vehicle. He nodded again and gave another wave as he closed the door.

Alex immediately closed the door, very glad to be able to do so. As one would expect for late February, it was cold, but it was also windy, making it seem colder still.

Shivering, she headed back upstairs, thinking she should shower, dress, and head over to check on the new restaurant. Somehow last night she'd found herself agreeing to Cale's taking over as business manager, leaving her to cook. Alex had been leaning that way anyway, bending under the weight of temptation, but she didn't recall actually deciding it for certain.

She'd just suddenly announced that he was hired as they were sharing their picnic with Bricker. Then she'd allowed herself to be convinced to give him the keys to the new restaurant, as well as to her car, and found herself being driven home and leaving the rest of the painting to the two men. Alex wasn't really sure how that had happened.

"I must have been seriously exhausted," she muttered with a shake of the head as she crossed her bedroom to the attached bathroom. It was the only explanation she could come up with. Alex wasn't the type to shirk a job and go home to bed leaving others to do it.

The cold air when she'd answered the door hadwoken her up properly; now the shower warmed her, but Alex knew she wouldn't be fully awake until she'd had coffee. However, she didn't want to take the time to make a pot. She'd pick up a couple of coffees from Tim Hortons on the way to the restaurant, she decided as she washed and rinsed her hair: one for her and one for Cale, who had somehow convinced her that he should work today and be at the restaurant to accept the furniture delivery.

She never should have agreed to that, Alex thought irritably as she stepped out of the shower. The man was going to burn himself out by week's end at this rate. The possibility was a bit worrying, and Alex decided she'd pick him up a breakfast sandwich on the way to help keep up his strength.

Or normal sandwiches, she decided as she walked back into her room and saw the time. It was late afternoon. Cripes, Cale had probably received the tables and chairs and headed to his hotel by now. Still, she wanted food, and she'd double the order just in case he was still around.

As it turned out, Cale was still there when Alex arrived. At least his car was, she noted. Not wanting the food to get cold, she parked as close as she could to the door, then scrambled to get inside. She would definitely be glad to see the end of winter, Alex thought as she set the coffees and food down to remove her coat. Tossing the long winter item across the nearest counter in her lovely new kitchen, Alex left the coffee and food where they were and hurried to the dining room.

A small sigh slid from her lips as she stepped intothe room. The painting was finished, the walls a warm, off-white with burgundy trim along the top. She smiled faintly as she recalled trying to explain how she'd planned to do it and her frustration because she knew she wasn't describing it properly. Bricker had insisted he understood, however, and she'd found herself relaxing and believing him. He had been right. While Cale had looked uncertain, Bricker had apparently understood exactly what she wanted. It was exactly as she'd envisioned.

Her gaze slid to the tables and chairs next, and a little shiver of pleasure slid through her. They were the right ones and absolutely perfect. Her luck really was turning, Alex decided as she moved forward, drawing her fingers lightly over one table, and then another. It looked good. Things were shaping up.

"It's coming together."

Alex turned to see Cale standing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. She beamed at him, grinning so wide it almost hurt. "Thanks to you," she said, and then rushed past him to get into the kitchen.

"I can't believe you're still here," she said as she crossed to the coffees and bag of food. "But just in case you were, I brought you an apology."

"Apology?" he asked, and she could hear the surprise in his voice.

"Yes." She turned with a coffee in hand. "I'm so sorry about your staying here to paint, and then being here to accept delivery of the furniture. I never should have agreed to that.""I offered," he reminded her quietly, moving forward when she held out the coffee.

"Yes, well, I should have said no," Alex announced, as he took the coffee. She turned to retrieve one of the two bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches next, and then offered him that as well, saying, "You must be exhausted."

"Actually I'm good," he said, taking the sandwich. "It must be jet lag. My internal clock is probably all messed up."

"Hmm," Alex said doubtfully, finding it hard to believe he wasn't completely wiped.

"Shall we sit in the dining room?" he suggested.

Smiling at the very thought, Alex collected her own coffee and sandwich and followed him out to settle at one of the tables near the kitchen door.

"I gather your car was fixed then?" Cale asked as he unwrapped his sandwich.

"Yes. Thank you. You must have called them first thing."

"Oui, first thing," he acknowledged. "What was wrong with it? "

"Nothing serious in the end," Alex assured him. "I think he said the connection to the battery had shaken loose or something." She shrugged.

"That's all? A loose wire?" he asked.

Alex nodded, unable to answer verbally since her mouth was full of warm sandwich at the moment. They were both silent for several moments after that, concentrating on their food.

"I should have picked us up two coffees each," she said with a sigh as she balled up her sandwich wrapper and pushed it into her now-empty coffee cup.

"There's fresh coffee in the office," Cale announced as she replaced the lid on her cup, and when she glanced at him with surprise, he explained, "Bricker is addicted to the stuff. He insisted on stopping to pick up a coffeepot, cups, and-as he put it-all the fixings on the way back here."

"Where did you find a store that sold coffeepots at that hour?" Alex asked with surprise.

"The grocery store where we got the items for the picnic," he answered, collecting his own empty wrapper and coffee cup as he got to his feet. "It has a whole line of small appliances, as well as books, and whatnot."

"Oh, yes I'd forgotten about that," she admitted as she followed him back through the kitchen and into her office. "I'm used to the grocery store by my place. It only carries food."

Cale nodded as he took her cup and moved toward the small garbage can by her desk. He gestured over his shoulder as he went. "I set it up in the corner there. No table of course, so I made do with the floor."

Alex immediately moved to the coffeepot, cups, and fixings lined up in the corner and knelt to fix them both a cup.

"Mmm, it is fresh," she murmured, taking a sip of hers, and then straightened to carry them both to the desk.

"I had just finished turning it on when I heard the back door," Cale assured her, accepting the cup sheheld out. He took a sip, sighed with pleasure, then moved to the desk.

"You got a chair," she said with surprise, noticing the desk chair behind the desk. Her desk chair, she realized, recognizing the dark brown leather model she'd ordered and been told was back-ordered and wouldn't show up for six weeks.

"I happened to find the bill for the chair as I was organizing your papers. When I saw that it was back-ordered, I called and made arrangements to have the display model brought over until your own chair arrives. It makes it easier to work than sitting on the floor."

"They agreed to that?" she asked with amazement.

"Oui. Once I pointed out that according to the receipt it was supposed to be delivered last week, and that delays and disappointments like this were bad business and might not make good press," he added with a devilish grin. "When I then suggested they bring the display around for you to use in the meantime, the manager agreed readily enough."

"Bad press?" she asked with amusement.

Cale shrugged. "I was tired of sitting on the floor. Besides, I could get it mentioned in an article easily enough if I put my mind to it."

"Hmm," she murmured, peering at the chair with a little sigh of pleasure. It looked as good as she'd thought it would, and her own model would look even better since it would be minus the few scuffs and scratches this one had.

"I took care of the paint matter as well," Cale announced, moving around the desk to begin sorting through papers on it. She recognized the bill for the paint when he pulled it out of the pile. "After the table and chairs arrived, I took the paint cans into the store and showed them that the cans read White Sand but obviously weren't White Sand. The manager agreed they'd been mixed wrong. He's going to reimburse you for the paint, as well as the cost of the painters, and asked me to give you his apologies."

"Wow," Alex murmured, peering down at the receipt he handed her. It had a bunch of incomprehensible scribbling on it now and what appeared to be a signature. Probably the manager's, she guessed, and then glanced to Cale as he began sorting through the papers again.

"Unfortunately, I couldn't do anything about the carpet. Your project manager signed for that despite its being the incorrect color. However, I stopped at the store where you bought the tiles. I pointed out that the fault was the salesman's, and that you shouldn't be expected to double-check his numbers. I also pointed out that while the numbers were wrong, the color written beside the numbers was correct, and that would have been what you checked. I suggested a judge would probably agree." He paused to smile at her, and then held out that bill as well, and said, "He agreed to reimburse you for the tiles."

"He did?" Alex breathed as the threat of bankruptcy receded in her mind. Dear God, with the return of the money for those damned expensive Italian tiles, she'd even have money in her savings again. Not much, but something.

"Oui. He did ... with a little persuasion and a couple of threats," Cale added dryly, and then cautioned, "You still have to eat the cost of both installations. He wouldn't bend on that, but since he was taking a big hit on what was essentially a mistake by his sales guy, I didn't push too-"

Cale's words died on an "oomph" of surprise as Alex suddenly launched herself at him with a squeal. She hugged him hard, then caught his face in both hands, kissed him on both cheeks, and proclaimed, "You are a god!"

Cale chuckled at her excitement and slid his arms around her waist. "Well, I'm glad you're satisfied with my work, ma'am."

"Satisfied?" she asked with a laugh. "I've never been this satisfied in my life. Getting reimbursed for the tiles is better than ... well, better than sex even."

"Then you've been having sex with the wrong people," he assured her solemnly, and Alex was suddenly conscious of several things. That she was his boss and he an employee, that they were in her office, and that she was in his arms ... and shouldn't be. Geez, he could charge her with sexual harassment.

Suddenly flustered, she pulled away from him, aware that her face was flushing a bright red. He frowned but let her go without protest. Alex immediately turned toward the door, saying in tones as businesslike as she could manage, "I guess I'd better get to the old restaurant to prep before the dinner hour starts. And you should go home-well to your hotel and catch some sleep. You must be exhausted." She stopped walkingsuddenly and turned back with concern. "This is Saturday. You didn't have to give up any plans to visit family today to stay here, did you?"

"No," Cale assured her quietly as he moved to turn off the coffeepot. As he straightened, he added, "In fact, I had the day clear with only plans for a late supper with my cousin Thomas and his wife Inez."

Alex sighed unhappily at this news. "And thanks to me you've been up all night and day and will probably be too exhausted to enjoy the visit."

"I'll catch a nap before I meet them," he assured her as he retrieved his coat from the back of the desk chair. "It's going to be a very late dinner, and then I'm driving them to the airport. They came for the wedding," he explained, "but Inez needs to get back to work, so they're flying back to Europe tonight."

"Europe?" she asked with surprise.

"England," he clarified. "While it's only a two-and-a-half-hour journey there from Paris, and wouldn't seem far to a Canadian, to us it's considered an overnight trip, so we don't see each other much despite his being in Europe."

"Ah." Alex nodded with a faint smile, relaxing a little. "I remember that from being there. You guys have a different view of travel than we do."

Cale nodded. "Anyway, I'm visiting with them tonight, but I'll check in at your other restaurant at closing time and see that all is well."

Alex clucked and shook her head. "Don't be silly. You're not expected to work all hours of the day and night. Which reminds me, what days do you want towork?" When he hesitated, she pointed out. "This is Saturday, and normally I wouldn't think you'd be working Saturdays because the banks and most businesses are closed on weekends. You'll probably want to work Monday through Friday. Yes? "

Cale nodded. "That sounds fine."

"But you should also get a full weekend, so if you want this Monday off-" she began.

"No, no. I'll work Monday," he assured her. "I've been on vacation this last week, remember."

Alex hesitated, but then nodded. "Okay. I'll see you next week then."

Cale frowned and hesitated, but then said, "I suppose you'll be cooking tomorrow as well?"

"Yes." Alex nodded. "We're open Wednesday through Sunday, with Mondays and Tuesdays off. Surprisingly, a lot of people book for Sunday dinners, but Mondays and Tuesdays are slow, so it seemed best to take them as our weekends."

His frown deepened. "Then I'm off on Saturday and Sunday and you're off on Mondays and Tuesdays?"

"Yes." She grinned. "So don't be surprised if I drop in to see how things are going here once in a while on those days."

Cale nodded and relaxed a little. "I'll look forward to it."

Alex snorted. "Yeah right, cause everyone enjoys their boss hanging over their shoulder."

He smiled faintly. "You can hang over my shoulder anytime."

"I'll remind you of that when you complain that Idon't know how to delegate and hover too much," she said with a forced laugh, and then did up her coat. "Now, come on, you need to go catch a nap before you meet your cousins. I feel guilty enough about your lack of sleep. Besides, I need to get to La Bonne Vie, the other La Bonne Vie," she added, and frowned and muttered, "I should have called it a different name. It gets confusing in conversation."

Cale stood to shrug into his own coat, and suggested, "Call them Bonne Vie One and Bonne Vie Two."

"Good idea." Alex turned to lead the way out of the office. But she paused in the door and turned back to smile at him. "Thank you, Cale. For everything. For a guy named after food, you're pretty brilliant."

He paused abruptly, a startled expression claiming his features. "What?"

She grimaced, "Just teasing ... well mostly. I do think of the vegetable every time I say your name."

"The vegetable?" he asked in a choked voice.

Alex grimaced. "Yeah. Kale with a K is a green leafy veggie, a type of cabbage as I recall," she murmured, turning to head out the door.

"Call me Cal," he said grimly, following her.

Alex smiled faintly, but was searching her mind for something else to say. For some reason she had a terrible urge to babble around the man now, and knew it was out of discomfort over what had happened in the office. Finally, she blurted, "Is Cale short for anything?"

"No."

"It's Scottish, isn't it?" she asked as she crossed the kitchen to the back door and pushed it open.

Cale hesitated, and then admitted, "My mother loved poetry, and Calliope was the muse of eloquence and epic poetry. She hoped if she named me for the muse, I'd grow up to be a poet rather than a warrior like the rest of my brothers. She thought that Cale would be a good male version of the name."

"Warrior?" Alex asked, glancing at him with surprise as she turned back to watch him lock the door.

"My English," he excused himself, sounding oddly grim. "I meant soldier. My brothers all grew up to be soldiers."

"Oh, your brothers are older than you then?" When he turned from locking the door, she added, "I'm pretty sure you have to be eighteen to be a soldier. If they were soldiers when she named you, then they had to be at least eighteen or so when you were born."

"I am much younger than my brothers, oui." He took her arm to walk her across the parking lot. It was only four o'clock, but the sky was already starting to darken with the threat of nightfall. That was one thing Alex hated about winter. She didn't mind the cold so much as the short days.

"Well, have a good dinner," she said with forced good cheer as she unlocked and opened the driver's door.

"Yes, and you enjoy your cooking." He held the door as she slid in behind the steering wheel.

"Oh, believe me, I will." She assured him, then said, "See you Monday," and pulled the door closed.

Alex started the engine, gave Cale a little wave, and pulled away, smiling happily to herself.

Cale Valens was awesome. She couldn't believe her luck. He'd done more to turn things around in one day than she could ever have managed at all. Getting reimbursed for the tiles was the bomb! Alex could actually breathe again. She'd felt like she was drowning for weeks now, but right that minute she felt on top of the world, and it was all thanks to Cale.

God, he was good. And she got to cook again. She really had to call Sam and thank her for sending the man her way. He was an answer to a prayer. He gave her hope that this having two restaurants would work out after all. Now all she had to do was keep her hands off the man and avoid a sexual-harassment suit.