The Billionaire’s Full Figured Desire

Chapter 12

It seemed almost as if it were all a dream, surely it couldn’t really be happening. How could the restaurant be closed? It had to be a joke, a cruel joke but a joke nonetheless. However Frida knew it wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t some nasty prank Andrew was playing on her, she could hear the seriousness in his voice, everything she had worked for was over. She wanted to react, wanted to do something, but she couldn’t, her entire body stood stuck to the spot.

Frida wasn’t even aware that she’d dropped the phone until she realized that her fingers were no longer clutching anything. She wasn’t even aware of how long she’d been standing there. A day? Several? No time at all? She was suddenly light-headed and just like that, poof, it was as though nothing else in the world even mattered anymore.

The one time in her life where she had actually achieved her greatest dream slipped from her fingers and as if the shock wasn’t enough she could almost picture the stories that would be going around about her now in the food industry, it could prove to be extremely difficult for her to ever get a job again. The food industry was cutthroat and if you couldn’t make it, well then that would be the end of the line. She couldn’t bear to think of it. She tried to push the thought out of her mind as she stood there clutching onto her dreams that seemed to be going out of reach.

Terrence had been pretending to sleep for what seemed like forever but was actually the past half hour. He disliked confrontation as much as the next man, and he felt as though he’d pushed his boundaries with Frida the night before. So when he’d woken up, and heard her gentle breathing beside him, his instinct was to lie still and pretend he hadn’t even woken up.

He knew that she was awake but he wasn’t ready to face her yet, he would wait for her to talk to him. It was the easiest way to work around the situation.

Eventually, of course, when her phone rang and Frida disappeared from the bedroom, he was glad to have the opportunity to stretch out his joints, but his cramped limbs soon proved to be the very least of his worries when he heard Frida’s shocked exclamations from the lounge. Terrence was up like a flash; somehow, he knew what was happening.

What she was hearing. And he…knew that he knew.

Terrence couldn’t even explain it to himself, but it was almost as though he’d been waiting for it on tenterhooks. He knew how the critiquing business went, and he was ninety percent sure that giving the restaurant an honest and good opinion was a bad idea. People found out stuff they weren’t supposed to find out. That was the nature of the public world; nothing was private.

It wasn’t as if he had tried to hide his relations with Frida, obviously, he hadn’t thought that he would have to criticize her restaurant so anyone could’ve seen them together leading up to him having to critic it. He knew he should’ve been more careful from the beginning, after all, she had told him she worked as Head Chef the night they met. He hated that it was him that had caused such a mess, even if it was completely out of his control.

If his hunch was right, and L’Ultima Cena was facing closure, then they wouldn’t exactly be the first restaurant to close down because someone got an anonymous tip from “a little birdie.” Terrence had known this from day one. So why, then, had he changed tack at the last second and supported Frida’s idea? Because he loved her, that was why. And he couldn’t bear to be the one who destroyed her restaurant’s reputation. Just as he couldn’t bear to tell her the “l” word when she’d asked him the same question.

Terrence smacked himself in the forehead. Stupid, stupid, Terrence! “Dum-dum Terry” is what his siblings used to call him when they wanted to annoy him. And it worked, too. He felt completely and utterly stupid and 100 percent responsible too.

Terrence took a peek at the door. Frida was still standing there, in shock from what she was hearing. Terrence didn’t want her finding out what he was about to do, because if she knew, she would never let him do it. But Terrence was a firm believer in “no situation is beyond repair.” Especially if you had money and resources, and Terrence had both of those. So it was with this situation; not beyond repair. Not by a long shot.

Terrence darted around the room as quickly as he could, searching for his cellphone. When he found it, he hit speed-dial, and the person on the other end picked up almost immediately. “Hello?”

“Chris,” Terrence said in a low voice. “It’s T-Man, what’s up?”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Long story.” Terrence brushed this off. “You know that idea I pitched you a few days ago? I need you to start making that happen.”

“Okay, no problemo,” the man named Chris replied. “How soon?”

“Couple months,” Terrence replied. “It needs to be smack bang on her birthday.”

“Cute,” Chris replied, somewhat derisively. “Name still the same?”

“Yeah,” Terrence nodded. “Call it Carter & Harrison.”

*****

When Frida awoke the next morning, she knew exactly what was to blame for the sinking pit in the base of her stomach. Her entire world had been turned upside down, gone topsy-turvy, gone pear-shaped. There were so many different terms for exactly what had happened. Three years she’d worked on painstakingly crafting her reputation and even her legacy in a way, at L’Ultima Cena, and in the briefest, cruelest stroke, it was over. Just like that. When Frida had gotten the news, when she’d finally been able to meet her sous chef (or ex-sous chef actually) face to face, she’d looked Andrew in the eyes, waiting for him to reveal that it was some kind of sick, twisted joke.