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in one of the chairs. Good. Actually, I feel more than good. Like
today is the first day of the rest of my life. Like& I don t know.
The way I used to feel when school let out for the summer, or on
Christmas Eve. You know what I mean.
Like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders?
I guess that pretty much describes it.
And no ill effects from being attacked?
Not really. I feel like I was in a fight, but no headache and no
dizziness. Nothing another hot shower won t fix. Nick gently
touched the cut on his lip and the still puffy area around his right
eye. I guess my face is a bit of a mess.
Trip gave him a wry grin. Definitely not a pretty sight. But
there s a bag of frozen peas in the freezer. Hold that against your
eye for a while and it ll reduce the swelling. I also have a stick of
concealer in the bathroom that should help with the bruising.
I m really sorry you got dragged into this, Nick apologized.
All I wanted was for Lenny to call me a cab. I would ve been
fine.
Maybe you would, and maybe you wouldn t. Who knows?
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INDEPENDENCE DAY 2
Trip reached across the table and gave Nick s hand a brief,
impersonal squeeze that had exactly the same effect as when Trip
touched him the day before a weird, tingly sensation. As far as
I m concerned, Lenny did the right thing. I care about you, Nick.
As an employee, but more importantly, as a friend.
Nick felt a sudden rush of emotion he did his best to hide. It
felt good to know someone cared. Although his friendship with
Trip was purely platonic, it was also an important part of his life
and no way did he want to screw it up. Not by indulging in wishful
thinking or making what Trip might interpret as inappropriate
moves.
Pushing away from the table, Nick found the bag of frozen
veggies in the freezer and held it against his eye while he finished
his coffee. By the time he d showered, borrowed Trip s razor to
shave, and used the concealer to hide the worst of the bruises, if
anyone asked, he might just get away with saying he d run into a
door.
You driving or taking a cab? Nick asked as he rolled up the
dirt and blood-spattered jeans and shirt he d been wearing the night
before and stuffed them in a plastic bag.
Driving. Why?
Could you give me a lift to my place? I need work clothes,
plus the info I ll need to cancel all my credit cards is there.
Sure. No problem. I just hope those kids didn t get your keys.
Oh, shit! Nick experienced a sudden surge of panic at the all
too likely possibilities exploding in his mind, all the while praying
that hadn t happened. He pulled the jeans from the bag and
checked the front pocket, giving a quick sigh of relief as his fingers
closed around the small bunch of keys. No. They re still here,
thank God!
47
INDEPENDENCE DAY 2
* * *
Nick used the first part of the following week to check on the
offerings of the various seafood restaurants around town. The
second half he spent in the small test kitchen Trip had authorized
to be set up off the hotel s main kitchen, perfecting and refining a
couple of new dishes he hoped to add to Franco s menu. The first
was an appetizer based on a dish he d had while vacationing in
Europe, and the other was a shrimp entrée he d planned to serve in
his own restaurant, but had never quite managed to achieve the
taste he d been aiming for.
He d tried any number of different and unusual dishes while in
Europe, but the one that still stuck in his mind was an appetizer
made of poached white fish, topped with a section of banana and
smothered in a fruit sauce. The taste had been unexpectedly
delicious, but for some reason the restaurant owner had refused to
share the recipe or even identify the fruit used in the sauce.
Nick had tried duplicating the dish on several occasions, but his
efforts had been less than encouraging. That was until he began
working in Butterscotch Dreams. With the customers constantly
demanding new smoothie flavors, he d asked the staff for their
suggestions and someone had mentioned mango. It wasn t a fruit
Nick had worked with before, but the moment he tasted the sharp,
sweet flavor obtained by blending pureed fresh mango with fresh
orange juice, he knew right away that the secret ingredient in the
fruit sauce was a secret no more.
The problem with the shrimp entrée had, in Nick s opinion,
always been the bland, lackluster flavor of the sauce. After a few
experiments and without losing the subtle taste of the shrimp, he d
managed to improve and enhance the fennel flavor he wanted by
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INDEPENDENCE DAY 2
the addition of a small amount of Pernod.
Early Friday afternoon, Nick knew the white fish appetizer was
as close as it would ever come to the original dish he d had in
Portugal. And his problems with the shrimp entrée were now also
solved.
He d also created a new salad composed of baby romaine,
sliced pear, gorgonzola crumbs, and toasted pine nuts with a
raspberry vinaigrette dressing.
Nick knew his next step should be to call Silvia and have her
taste-test all three new dishes, but first, he wanted Trip s opinion
on presentation and taste. If Trip approved, he d ask Silvia to join
them.
Taking out his cell phone, he keyed in Trip s number.
You had lunch yet? he asked the moment Trip answered.
Matter of fact I was just thinking about doing exactly that.
You want to join me somewhere?
No. Stay where you are. I ll bring it to you.
After loading everything, including tableware and cutlery, onto
one of the room service carts, Nick added a bottle of chilled white
Chianti, a carafe of iced water and another of coffee, and managed
to talk Enzio into parting with a few small slices of his latest
cassata.
Taking a deep breath, he headed out of the kitchens. If Trip
liked the new creations, there was every chance Silvia would, too.
When he arrived at Trip s office up on the third floor, he
knocked on the door and called out, Room service.
Trip admitted him with a heart-stopping grin and an
appreciative sniff. Something smells good. What is it?
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