"It was fine." I pulled his head against my chest when I reached his side, rubbing his forehead lightly with my fingers. I didn't tell him what I suspected—that Perdil was taking credit for the expensive dessert—but then I didn't want to face Darletta Schuul or her father, either. The rumor was that both of them were among the important guests. It made sense that Darletta's wealthy father had a hidden finger in this particular pie. My job was to find the insects in said pie.

"That feels good," Ry mumbled, slipping an arm around my waist.

"Want some painkill? I think they have some in the shop downstairs."

"Along with plenty of hangover remedies. Come here." His arms tightened as he pulled me closer. "Your heartbeat is the best thing for me right now." His forehead now lay between my breasts. My fingers went through Ry's raven-black hair before I allowed them to wander lower. I gently massaged his neck while he moaned in relief. There isn't anything wrong with any part of Rylend Morphis. Except he couldn't fix his own headaches, apparently.

"I brought fish stew," I told him gently. "I made some for the pastry kitchen staff before I left. I have some fresh bread, too, if you're hungry."

"I'll eat in a minute. Just let me sit like this for a while."

"All right, honey."

"Taste this." Perdil held out a small bowl of fish stew to Zendeval.

"You know I'm not fond of seafood stew."

"Taste it anyway. With the bread." Perdil pushed a small plate of fresh bread toward his supervisor. Zendeval frowned as he dipped up a spoonful of the fish stew and ate it. Then dipped a piece of the bread in it and ate that.

"Outstanding," Zendeval muttered around a mouthful of food.

"Reah made this for the staff before she left for the evening," Perdil grunted. "None of the other cooks even think about doing that."

"That includes you, you know," Zen snickered at Perdil before eating more of the stew.

"There's usually enough dessert left for Kserr r them to get what they want, but I've threatened them over the gishi fruit ice cream. Except that our guests ate all of it," Perdil grumbled.

"We'll drop by Mrs. Windle's now, and tell her we need enough on hand for at least sixty servings every day," Zen ate the rest of his fish stew and scraped up the remaining broth with the last of his bread. "You should have saved more for me," he said. "I didn't get dinner, you know."

"I know. I just didn't think you'd eat all of it," Perdil replied, following Zendeval out of the kitchen.

I'd just set a bowl of fish stew in front of Ry when the guest bell rang. "I'll get it," I patted Ry's back and went to the door. Zendeval Rjjn and Perdil the Dwarf pastry cook stood outside.

"Is there a problem?" I asked as they invited themselves inside.

"I just wanted to tell you that we'll need enough gishi fruit ice cream on hand for sixty servings each day," Zendeval Rjjn didn't even bother with a hello. Perdil's thick brows were pulling together in a frown. Ry, from his place at the table, was also frowning—at both our uninvited guests. "Is that more fish stew?" Zendeval walked toward the table. I did the frowning, now.

"Yes, it's more fish stew. Would you like some?" I went to get the container holding my dinner.

"Yes," Zendeval Rjjn pulled out a chair and sat across from Ry. I served the fish stew to him, with a generous portion of fresh bread. "This wine is best with it," I poured a glass for my employer, wanting to toss him out the window instead. I imagined that he might scream on his way down, and that was more than fine with me. Ry glanced at Zendeval briefly before going back to his own meal.

"We could sell this, Perdil," Zendeval said after he'd eaten nearly the entire portion of stew.

"I was trying to tell you that earlier," Perdil said dryly.

"Tell Master Cook Crade how to make this tomorrow," Zendeval said, stuffing the last of the bread into his mouth.

"No," I said.

"What did you just say to me?" Zendeval rose from the table.

"I checked the contract over carefully and removed the wording that says all recipes prepared here belong to the ownership," I said. "I have a dated copy in my comp-vid. Feel free to review it," I said. "I don't give away my recipes."

"I can fire you."

"Go ahead. I can find work elsewhere."

"As can I," Ry rose to stare at Zendeval.

"Please, let us not be in haste, here," Perdil held out his hands in a placating gesture. "Shall we draw up a new contract that says any recipes developed on premises belong to the management?"

"That excludes the gishi fruit ice-cream dessert," I said. "I've been making that for several years."

"Then we need to keep our pastry cook happy, it seems," Zendeval nodded.

"Did you mean to be rude?" Perdil asked as he and Zen walked toward the elevator after leaving Mrs. Windle's apartment.

"She's the one who altered the standard contract. I'll be having words with Jerves over that."

"That isn't what I meant," Perdil pointed a finger at Zen. "You ate her evening meal. Do you have your head that far up your ass all the time?"

"I made a mistake?"

"You made a big mistake."

I wasn't speaking to anyone when I arrived in the kitchens the following day, putting gishi fruit ice cream together first thing. He wanted sixty servings on hand, we were about to have sixty servings on hand. Two assistants I'd fed the night before came over and silently began peeling fruit beside me.

"She's not speaking to anyone," Perdil replied to Zen's communication. Again, he'd moved to the far side of the regular kitchen to communicate with Zen.

"I'll think of something," Zendeval sighed. "Why didn't you tell me I was blundering about?"

"Don't you know anything about women? Anyone should know not to steal someone else's food, regardless. I thought you had enough sense for that, at least."

"I do, Perdil. What do you take me for? I have manners."

"Really? I thought you were trying to impress her. Lure her away from her mate, perhaps. She doesn't have weight to spare, lummox, and you take her food."

"I made a mistake. Leave it, Perdil."

"Now that you've made this mistake, though, it won’t be such a stretch if you show up for dinner with Jerves when he's invited."

"I could do that. Perdil, you're a genius. I'll tell Jerves that he has to take me with him."

"I'd go too, if I thought I could get away with it," Perdil grumped and terminated the call.

"I want you to take off your apron and come with me," Zendeval Rjjn was standing on the other side of my prep table as I was plating up an oxberry tart with fresh cream.

"Where are we going?" I wasn't planning to go anywhere with him if I didn't know what the destination was beforehand.

"I wish to go to Chrestin's and speak with the pastry cook. I want you to tell him what is wrong with his desserts. I get more complaints from there than any of my other restaurants."

"I don't think he'll appreciate the words coming from me," I pointed out. "I gave the information to you on the two desserts I sampled. I haven't tried everything he makes."

"Then we'll ask for a good sampling. We'll try a cross-section of his desserts and you'll tell me what the problem is."

"I don't see that this will help you in the least," I snapped, still angry that he'd eaten my fish stew the night before. I'd had a cold cheese sandwich for dinner instead, after he and Perdil left the apartment. "Why don't you just tell him the dessert menu needs to be improved or you'll look for someone else?"

"I will, unless you think he has the capability to improve." Zendeval's black eyes searched my face before traveling lower. I was covered by a cook's jacket to keep from ruining a good blouse and pants. At l Kd pthat he haeast he wasn't rewarded by a view of tight clothing. I had no desire to reveal anything to Zendeval Rjjn. I was angry, too, that Perdil had gone out six times during the day to speak to customers, posing as the one who'd created the sex by dessert confection.

Yes, they were listing it as sex by dessert, and were printing shirts with the new logo on it, depicting a large-breasted woman with a scoop of ice cream in the valley between her breasts. I wanted to scream over the whole thing as Zendeval's eyes slowly rose toward mine. At least I was covered up and hoped Zendeval didn't have a good imagination. He was a cretin, in my estimation.

"Come, we will go to Chrestin's. Take off that terrible jacket and wear your hair loose." I stared at him as I removed the coat and took my hair out of its usual braid, promising myself that Zendeval Rjjn and I would have a lengthy talk after my job was finished here.

After I tossed him through a wall or something equally as sturdy, first.

Chapter 8

"Just keep folding and rolling the pastry like this," I demonstrated for the poor cook, who looked flustered that Zendeval Rjjn was there and watching. "The layers are what make it flaky and crisp. Don't leave it too thick, now. Your recipe is good, it just needs a little more physical labor to make it great." I stepped aside and let poor Welt work a while.

"See, that's enough right there. Now, take your berry mixture here," we poured some of it out and folded dough over it, running the tool over the edges to seal the tart. "All you have to do is bake it now and you'll have something to be proud of." We worked on a mousse after that, plus a few other things before tasting.

"This is very good." We'd cooked a bit of the pastry in a shell and added the mousse, topping it with cream and fresh berries.

"It is good," Zendeval was eating a little of everything we made.