Page 335 of Not Over You

Fuck me.

CHAPTER 3

Caroline didn’t get much sleep that night. Tossing and turning didn’t help her wear herself down and put her to sleep. By the time breakfast rolled around she dragged herself into the shower and got dressed for the day.

Lucas may think it was fine to show up whenever he wanted and pound on her door, but it had been years since she’d worked for him and could call her at all hours to show up in the kitchen and work.

It didn’t seem like that was the case with what he’d asked her, but it had also been over a decade since she felt like she really knew him. And even then, she had more than a little bit of hero worship that had been a part of her time at his restaurant.

So many people scoff at the idea of working for Lucas.

They liked to believe the big-bad-wolf persona that comes to mind when you hear his name, but she thought she was long past that.

She’d survived staging in his kitchen after all.

But this kind of frustration?

She had no idea where it came from.

She could only hope that Nadia wasn’t going to be home when she showed up. Caroline had questions and she didn’t want to talk in front of Nadia.

Getting into her car, Caroline paused to take a look in the rearview mirror. The silver at her temples were a long way from the chocolate brown waist-length waves she’d had back in culinary school.

What did he see when he saw her at the Farmer’s Market? Did he see the upstart bulldog that he’d named her when she worked for him? Did he see the woman he’d kissed that night? Or had he looked at her and released a sigh of relief?

Women didn’t age as well as men.

Or at least that’s what society proved from their reactions.

Male chefs became distinguished. Mature. Sexy silver foxes.

Female chefs became old. Haggard.

Media suggests that women dye their hair.

Smile more.

Be nice.

Even as people had complimented her on how brave she was to let the silvered strands show in her hair, it didn’t stop the majority of people and organizations commenting on her looks.

“Whatever.”

Caroline adjusted the rearview mirror and started her car, heading onto the road.

It would only take a few minutes to get to Lucas’ home from where she was staying.

If she hadn’t cared about getting there sweaty and even more haggard looking than normal, she would have walked over.

It might have done something good for her frustrations. Physical activity was always good for that. It was the reason she actually gave all of her employees gym memberships. She wanted them healthy.

Stress was a killer and the culinary industry wasn’t built on caffeine. It was built on high blood pressure if you were lucky. Heart disease if you weren’t.

And relationships?

The culinary industry ate those for lunch.

She pulled up along the sidewalk one house over and got out of her car, taking the time to straighten her clothes. It wasn’t about looking good for Lucas. It was about not making a total ass of herself.

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