Page 38 of The Rules of Their Red-Hot Reunion

‘Where’s yours?’ she asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

‘I ate at the restaurant earlier,’ Pasco replied, hitting buttons on the microwave.

He turned and his eyes slammed into hers and electricity—or annoyance, who could tell?—arced between them. He started to speak, but stopped when the microwave dinged. He turned, pulled the plate out, and placed it on the navy placemat in front of her. She breathed in the delicious smells of lemon, lemongrass and garlic, rosemary, and roasted chicken. Heaven, she thought, picking up her cutlery and digging in.

After five minutes of eating, she looked up to see Pasco still standing in front of the counter, his untouched wine glass next to him. He looked broody, tired, and as if he was about to snap.

‘While I appreciate the food, I’m still not sure why you are here, Pasco,’ Aisha stated.

‘But thank you for bringing me food, it’s delicious,’ she added.

‘It was one of the trainee chefs’ chance to cook the staff meal at the restaurant. I think he did a decent job.’

More than decent, Aisha thought as she took another bite of chicken. Chewing, she watched as Pasco turned to stare out her kitchen window, wondering what he was looking at as it was pitch-black outside. His shoulders were tight with tension, and he kept massaging his neck, as if he was trying to rub away a knot in his muscles.

‘Pas, come sit down,’ Aisha told him. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, as if debating whether that was what he wanted to do, before nodding. He yanked out a chair and extended his long legs, crossing his feet at the ankles.

‘Again, I am sorry about earlier. I was a jerk.’

‘Accepted. So what happened today?’

Pasco leaned back, picked up his glass of wine, and downed it in one swallow. After refilling his glass, he looked at her, his gaze broody. ‘My gut has been telling me that there’s something wrong at my restaurant in Franschhoek for a while, but I ignored my instincts. Expenses are up, revenue is down, and I’ve been meaning to get there to find out what’s going on, but I’ve been busy.’

‘Couldn’t your accountant or business manager investigate for you?’ Aisha asked, taking her last bite and placing her cutlery together. ‘That was fantastic, thank you. I was so hungry.’

‘I could tell,’ Pasco said, humour flashing in his eyes. ‘That was a man-sized portion. Where do you put it all?’

‘Fast metabolism,’ Aisha told him. ‘The restaurant?’

‘My business manager and accountant both told me not to worry about it, that the margins were in the appropriate range and that it was probably just a temporary dip. Nothing to worry about because the manager is also one of my most trusted employees. Jason has been with me from the beginning. We worked together at my first restaurant in London.’

Aisha picked up her wine glass and took a sip, leaning back in her chair.

‘When you kicked me out of your office—’ Aisha started to protest, realised it was a fair statement, and nodded, refusing to feel guilty. He’d deserved it. But because she didn’t believe in holding grudges, she gestured for him to continue.

‘I headed over there. I was early, the only one there so I let myself in. I went straight to the office, thinking that I’d do a couple of spot checks. I was about to start when I heard a knock on the back door, the door where the staff enters.’

‘Who was at the door, Pas?’ Aisha asked when he hesitated.

Pasco rubbed his forehead with his fingers. ‘Jason’s wife. She had one baby in a pram, another on her hip and I could tell she’d been crying for what looked like days. She asked me if Jason was in, I told her no and her knees buckled, just for an instant. The baby started to wail, the toddler started screaming and it was pandemonium.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I invited her inside, gave her some coffee. After what seemed like hours, I got the story from her,’ Pasco said, his expression bleak.

‘And it wasn’t pretty,’ Aisha stated.

‘Jason left her a couple of months ago and hasn’t paid her any child support. She’s all but destitute. She’s being evicted and she came to see him. She needed money to go to her mother in Kimberley.’

‘And Jason?’ Aisha asked.

Pasco’s gaze hardened. ‘Well, apparently Jason has a new woman, a new house, and is spending every cent he earns, and that’s a lot, on his new girlfriend. He’s bought a new car, new clothes for her, furniture, jewellery. All this while his wife can’t get any money from him to pay for nappies, formula, and the rent.’

Aisha winced, immediately angry. ‘What a dirtbag.’

‘Yeah,’ Pasco replied. ‘But he’s a dirtbag I considered to be my friend. I don’t recognise this, recognise him. That’s not the guy I know.’

‘That’s the guy he’s being right now,’ Aisha told him. ‘I presume you gave the wife a wad of cash?’

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