Page 41 of The Missing Ingredient

“Talk of the devil. Tina. Give me a second.”

As he rose from the table, Tom caught his eye and winked. The simple expression had his heart fluttering and brought a smile to his lips. At a safe distance, while Tom’s father talked about football, Marcus took the call.

“How’re you enjoying your rare day off?” she asked.

“Spiffing. Moira tried to hook me up with a neighbor’s nephew.”

“No!” said Tina, her laughter followed by a fit of coughing. “Spill.”

“Nothing to tell. He’s far too young. Barely out of nappies.”

“And?”

“And what? Oh, please! You think I’m old enough to be anybody’s daddy?”

“No, but I think you’re too bloody fussy by half.”

“What did you want, Tina?”

“Just had a call from Kurt. Everything’s back on track. They want you in New York to train and shadow the new chefs for the Brooklyn restaurant week after next. The good news is, it’s not going to be a long haul. There for the opening and do a bit of publicity. You’ll be flying solo, though. I need to be here to keep my eye on the refit schedule in Birmingham.”

Marcus calculated the dates and then let out a deep huffy sigh. Sometimes he just couldn’t catch a break. “Bugger. I knew this would happen.”

“What?”

“It’s just—the girls are off school that week for half-term. I was going suggest to Tom that we both take a few days off work. Drive to the coast or something.”

“Is everything okay between you two?”

“You could say that, yes. Oh well, doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“So take them.”

“Sorry?”

“To New York. Take them with you, Tom and the girls. You’ll have that bloody huge two-bedroom apartment again sitting empty during the day. There’s plenty for kids to do over there—musical shows, top of the Empire State, Statue of Liberty, Central Park. They’ll love it. And you’ll have a grown-up to talk to and do things with in the evenings.”

Even as her reasoning sank in, Marcus could feel the heat rising in his throat at the hope, the possibility of sharing the apartment with Tom. Although with the girls there, they’d have to be on their best behavior. No messing around.

Still.

“And remember, it won’t all be work, Marcus. Apart from the opening night, Kurt only needs you in the kitchen for one afternoon and evening before and after. But he also insists he wants you to be hands-off after that so that his chefs can find their feet on their own. Yes, he needs you to be contactable in case of any cock-ups, but you won’t have to be physically there, just near enough to come and put out fires in case of emergencies. I think it’s a great idea to bring them with you.”

“I’ll need to talk to Tom first. Do you think we’ll be able to get them a table for the launch?”

“Consider it done. Now tell me I’m a genius.”

“You’re a genius. Who’s paid loads of money.”

“To work her arse off for you.”

“And I love you for it. So it’s obviously a definite yes to me being there. And I’ll text you about the other thing later.”

“Excellent. Now go and enjoy the rest of your day off.”

Back at the table, Tom caught Marcus’s eye and winked as he approached. His father appeared to be holding court, as he liked to, talking football again, something about famous Chelsea wins. Moira, having heard the conversation many times before, had decided to start clearing the table.

“Everything okay, Marcus?” John was the first one to speak as Marcus sat among the small group again.

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