Chapter Five

This was the lamest first meal Brigid had ever cooked for a client. She was having trouble caring, after seeing the delight on Dane’s face while they were making it.

He hung on every word, his brow knit in concentration as he asked questions and really thought through what she was saying. She’d never taught someone with such a drive to learn.

“Why six places?” she asked, putting the last fork next to the place settings. “There are only four people here now.”

Unless Craig or Barbara was joining them. Brigid shuddered at the thought.

She still didn’t know what she had gotten herself into. Wild animals were living in the basement, and she had no clue what they even were.

“Aren’t you joining us?” Dane asked.

“I don’t usually eat with my clients. The kitchen table is fine.”

Her cheeks tingled as she remembered what she and Dane had almost done on that table. Cooking with him had gone a long way in soothing her frayed nerves, especially after hearing another of those howls.

Dane shook his head. “Brendan won’t be okay with that. Honestly, none of us will be.”

She didn’t know how to respond. She was already so far out of her normal routines.

This wasn’t going to be like any of her other jobs. She’d started to wonder about it the moment she saw Zemanni land in that fancy helicopter. The feeling had only become stronger when she met Dane.

“What about the sixth place?”

“Brendan always sets a place for his wife, Kira,” Dane said.

Well… That was pretty sweet. And comparatively normal.

“Where is she?”

“She’s at our new facility in Florida.”

“Overseeing the construction?”

Dane shook his head. “Training, mostly.”

“Training in what?”

He turned to her, his eyes wider than usual and his mouth slightly open. It was the same deer-in-headlights expression he’d had earlier when she was heading into topics he couldn’t talk about.

“You could tell me, but then you’d have to kill me?” She laughed.

Dane looked stricken. “I’d never let that happen.”

“It was just a joke.”

A joke that he’d taken seriously.

“Wait, that’s not… That’s not a possibility, is it?” she said.

Before Dane could respond, Vay walked in, followed by a tall, lanky man. He was thin and pale, with tousled brown hair and the beginnings of a beard. His rumpled clothes and the dark circles under his eyes made Brigid wonder when he’d last been able to get a good night’s sleep.

His companion was just as energetic as when Brigid had met her, though. Vay had a tight hold on Henry’s hand, leading him to the table, and her smile lit up the room. Brigid found herself smiling back.

“I’m so excited to try spaghetti.” Vay sat with Henry on the far side of the table. “Do your meatballs have ketchup and cherry sauce, too?”

“Cherry sauce?” Brigid said.

“Don’t ask.” Dane came up behind her from the archway that led to the kitchen, holding a huge bowl of noodles. “I was just…trying something.”

“There’s no cherry sauce,” Brigid said. “Or ketchup.”

“Oh.” Vay’s smile faded.

How could she be disappointed at no ketchup and cherry sauce with spaghetti and meatballs? Brigid suppressed a shudder, hoping that those three things had at least not been served all together.

“I think you’ll like what Dane and I have cooked up, though,” Brigid said.

Vay smiled again, but it was more subdued. “I’m sure we’ll love it. Right, Henry?” She leaned against Henry’s arm.

“Hmm, what?” He gazed around the room, his eyes a bit unfocused. “Yes. It smells great, actually.”

“Next time, we’ll make garlic bread to go with it,” Brigid said.

She moved to one of the chairs opposite Henry and Vay, but Dane caught her by the elbow.

“That’s Kira’s seat,” he said.

“Oh, sorry.” Brigid looked around. “Where should I sit?”

“Here’s fine.” He gestured to one of the heads of the table.

That just didn’t seem right, but at least she’d have a good view of everyone and could gauge their reactions. Dane sat next to her as she lowered herself into her seat.

“Sorry I’m late.” Brendan rushed into the room, sitting across from her at the opposite end of the table. He smiled as he took in the dishes before him and said, “This looks great.”

“Dane was a big help,” Brigid said.

Henry had picked up some salad with the tongs, but froze. He stared at the leaves as if inspecting them carefully.

“It’s fine, really,” she said.

“My cooking couldn’t have been that bad,” Dane said.

Henry stammered. “No… Sure… I mean…”

“We really appreciate everything you’ve done,” Brendan said. “And I’m glad you’re still taking an interest.”

“You did a great job.” Brigid reached over and squeezed Dane’s hand.

The moment their skin touched, she felt more of that white-hot electricity coursing through her nerves. She’d never experienced chemistry like this before. The way his pupils widened as he stared at her, gripping her fingers before she had a chance to pull away, she was pretty sure he felt it, too.

“Careful, Vay,” Henry said.

Vay was holding a container of red pepper flakes that Brigid had put on the table for those who liked to kick up the heat in their meal.

“Of what?” Vay said. “These are so pretty and colorful.”

Pretty?

Brigid had never heard them described that way.

“They’re hot,” Henry said.

Vay looked at the glass canister, then held it in both hands, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I don’t think so. The jar is cool.”

“No, the flakes are hot.” Henry let out a frustrated breath. “It’s a different kind of heat.”

“It’s just to add some spice,” Brigid said. “You don’t need to use it.”

Vay’s face brightened. “I like spice. Salt and sugar are my favorites.”

“Sugar’s not really…” Henry’s voice trailed off.

Vay must have never had spicy food before. Henry seemed to be struggling with how to explain it. Brigid decided to help him out. She was the chef, after all.

“There’s a substance in those called capsaicin that causes a chemical reaction with the heat sensors in your mouth,” Brigid said. “If you put too much of that on your food, it’ll feel like you’re being burned.”

“Wow.” Vay sprinkled a few flakes into her palm, then set down the shaker and carefully picked up a flake and put it on her tongue.

At least that one’s an adventurous eater.

Vay’s eyes widened and she smiled. “It does!” she said. Her face scrunched up and she stuck out her tongue, wiping it with her hand. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“I can get you some milk.” Henry started to stand, but Vay stopped him.

“No, it’s okay,” she said. “It’s passing now.” She turned to Brigid, beaming. “That was amazing!”

Brigid could barely believe it. She had achieved a bit of fame in her circles for her use of science in cuisine, and this group was impressed by the capsaicin reaction of a single red pepper flake.

She was totally making a baking soda volcano later. They wouldn’t be able to eat it, but it would probably knock their socks off to see just what kitchen ingredients could do.

“I think Kira’s ready to join us,” Brendan said, looking up from the fancy silver watch he wore.

Brigid glanced around the room. “I thought she was in Florida.”

“She is.” Brendan smiled enigmatically. “But there are ways around that, with the right technology.”

“Just remember that NDA,” Vay said, smiling toward Brigid.

Light flickered in Kira’s empty chair, expanding into the shape of a woman. Her form was silvered and transparent, like a hologram in a sci-fi movie.

Brigid’s skin prickled in goosebumps. That was so cool! But she couldn’t tell anyone about it. Suddenly, the NDA made a lot more sense.

First the high-tech helicopter, and now this? Brigid pressed her lips together, biting them to keep them shut tight. So many questions were pushing to get out, none of which she would probably get answers for.

They could tell me, but then they’d have to kill me.

The thought helped curb her curiosity. Instead of focusing on her questions, Brigid looked at Kira. The image of Kira, anyway. Brendan’s wife had long, dark hair, strong features, and was absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.

What is it about the women here?

The guys were cute, in a nerdy kind of way. Well, except for Dane, who was as Hollywood hot as Kira and Vay. For a moment, Brigid wondered if this was some kind of movie set after all. But she’d been on movie sets before, and had never seen anything like the level of technology that everyone around the table seemed to take in stride.

“Hello,” Brendan said.

Brigid had never heard a single word hold so much emotion. The expression on Brendan’s face as he looked at Kira made Brigid’s heart beat faster and her stomach warm. There was so much love and longing in his gaze.

She wondered if anyone would ever look at her that way. Her gaze flicked to Dane before she could stop herself. He was still looking at her, holding her hand, his thumb lightly brushing across her knuckles.

“Greetings.” Kira’s voice was strong and richer than most women’s. From the way Brendan smirked, Brigid wondered if the pair was sharing some inside joke.

“Sarah said you made a special request for our meals to match today,” Kira said. Her plate held a transparent version of salad and spaghetti that looked very similar to what was already on Vay and Henry’s plates.

“It’s something of a special occasion,” Brendan said. “We’re celebrating our new chef.”

“New chef?” Kira looked around the table, her stern gaze finally settling on Brigid as if they were in the same room.

Could Kira be sitting at a table with holographic versions of everyone at the lodge? Brigid did her best not to look around the room for cameras. Instead, she lifted her hand and waved.

“Hi,” Brigid said.

Kira’s lips pulled into a tight line. She turned back to Brendan. “Do you really think this is a good idea after what happened with the last one?”

The last one?

“She’s already fitting in nicely.” Brendan briefly glanced at Dane.

“How long has she been here?” Kira asked.

“A couple of hours,” Brendan said.

“Um, excuse me.” Brigid raised the hand Dane wasn’t holding onto. “What happened to the last chef?”

Everybody at the table turned to stare at her. Dane squeezed her hand tighter.

“He couldn’t handle the noises Barbara made,” Dane said. “In the early days of her pregnancy, she was a lot more vocal.”

“More vocal?” Brigid shuddered. She couldn’t imagine hearing that noise more often she already had.

Kira slowly turned toward Brendan. “She knows about Barbara?”

“I don’t,” Brigid broke in quickly. “I mean, all I know is that she loves eating peanuts and lives in the basement with Craig and that they’re not howler-monkey velociraptor hybrids.”

Henry had been taking a drink, and he choked on it. He quickly covered his mouth with his napkin as he tried to stop his coughing. Vay patted his back.

“Could you please try not to drown at the table?” Dane said.

Henry gave him a thumb’s up.

“That’s all?” Kira raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She turned back to Brendan.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Smiling at her, he lifted his hand. Brigid saw a flash of silver from a wide metal wristband he was wearing under his sweater sleeve.

Kira stared at his palm for a moment before resting her hand above his. Bright motes of light sparked where their skin should connect.

Whoa…

“I need to be here,” Brendan said. “And you need to be there. This is what we have right now. But I also need to feel that you’re with me. Everyday comforts are important.”

“Brendan…” Kira reached out to him, her hand hovering just above his cheek. Brendan closed his eyes and lifted his hand to hers. More of those little motes of light sparked where their hands would be touching.

What the heck kind of technology was this? The hairs on the back of Brigid’s neck stood on end and she gripped Dane’s hand harder.

There was so much going on beneath the surface of “cooking for an eccentric billionaire.” And the surface was pretty weird to begin with.

Whatever she’d landed herself into, the way Brendan and Kira were looking at each other hit Brigid hard. That kind of love was something she dreamed of finding. It was something worth fighting for and protecting, even if she wasn’t the one actively experiencing it.

It sure as heck was worth putting up with a yowly whatever-it-was in the basement. If Brigid could give them some comfort while they were separated by cooking for Brendan and giving him a sense of normalcy, she’d do it.

“I’m not learning as quickly as I should,” Kira said.

Brendan opened his eyes and smiled at her. “You’re doing your best. You’ll get it in time.”

“We don’t have time to—” Kira turned toward Brigid, her mouth snapping shut.

“I can go,” Brigid said. “It sounds like you have some things to talk about.”

Brendan shook his head. “It’s okay. There are lots of other topics that are better for the table. Like Dane’s cooking lessons.”

“These meatballs are amazing.” Vay’s mouth was so full, Brigid could hardly understand her. “Cygnus X.”

Wait, what did she say?

Vay started sawing at her spaghetti noodles, cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk. “I can’t wait to try the spaghetti.”

“That’s actually not how you’re supposed to eat it,” Brigid said.

Vay’s eyes widened as she looked at her. She swallowed, then said, “Oh no. Did I break some cultural protocol?”

“Cultural protocol?” Brigid laughed. “I guess that’s what this is. Here, let me show you.”

Brigid finally pulled her hand away from Dane’s, then picked up the big spoon at her place setting. She scooped up a few noodles with her fork and put the tines on the spoon, using it to keep the noodles in place as she twirled the fork, wrapping the noodles around the tines. As she did, Vay’s eyes—and smile—grew bigger.

“That looks like so much fun.” Vay picked up her spoon and mimicked Brigid’s actions perfectly.

“Wow, you’re a natural,” Brigid said.

Dane had been about to bite into a meatball, but he flinched. The movement knocked it from his fork. It hit the table with a splat, then rolled off the edge and onto the floor.

“Shit,” Dane said.

“I’ve got it.” Brigid used her napkin to quickly wipe the tomato sauce from the table, then ducked under it to clean up the floor. “It’s just like that kid’s song… We should grate some fresh cheese next time.”

Her voice trailed off as she sat back up and saw that everyone was staring at her.

“What does it mean to be a natural?” Vay said, her expression oddly guarded.

Henry jumped in. “I think she just meant it usually takes people longer to figure out how to do that so well.”

“Oh,” Vay said. She took another bite of meatball, staring at her plate intently.

After a few moments of everyone eating in silence, Brigid said, “I kind of feel like I’ve broken some cultural protocols.”

Vay let out a little laugh and smiled at her.

“I know there are things—lots of things—you can’t tell me,” Brigid said. “And the longer I’m here, the more I’m understanding that. But if there are things I should—and can—know about you all, I’d like to learn them. This is already unlike any job I’ve had before, and I don’t want to step on anybody’s toes.”

“You’re really tiny,” Vay said.

Brigid felt her eyebrows lift. Sure, she was short and Vay was supermodel tall, but that was a weird thing to say. Then again, what about this job wasn’t weird?

“I don’t know whether to say ‘thanks’ or ‘hey!’” Brigid said, forcing a smile.

Vay was back to stuffing meatballs into her mouth. She somehow managed, “I just meant it wouldn’t hurt if you stepped on anybody’s toes. Unless you stomped on them. But you don’t seem like the type to do that.”

“I’m not,” Brigid said. “I mean, I wouldn’t.”

Vay smiled, her cheeks huge. Brigid fought the urge to laugh at the comical expression, and settled for smiling back instead.

Weirdest job ever.

But she was kind of starting to like it.