Hungry for You

"If you guys are done with your cleanup, I'll letyou out and lock up now."

Cale glanced to the sous-chef, Bev, who stood in Alex's office doorway. The woman was eyeing them all uncomfortably. He didn't need to read her mind to understand that it was because they were in Alex's office when Alex herself wasn't. However, they'd been exhausted after finishing, and there were no seats in the kitchen, so they'd made their way to the office to get off their feet for a few minutes.

Ignoring the sous-chef's reprimanding gaze, he said, "Alex said she'd come back at the end of the night. We're waiting for her."

Bev immediately shook her head. "She called earlier. There was a snag at the new restaurant and she's going to be there all night. She asked me to close and lock up. If you don't mind, I'll let you out the back door. Idon't have keys to the front and have to lock it from the inside."

Cale frowned, but then glanced to his aunt Marguerite as she shifted on the couch, digging in her purse to retrieve her cell phone. Marguerite and Leigh, his uncle Lucian's new bride, had plopped themselves there with relief once the last order had been filled and the chef de cuisine's station had been cleaned. He grimaced at the weary expression on both their faces, feeling guilty for causing their exhaustion.

Cale had lasted a little more than fifteen minutes after Alex left before calling Marguerite in a panic, begging her to come help him. That was after managing to produce two burnt fish dishes and one sauce that had bubbled over, caught fire, and made one hell of a mess on the grill. He hadn't known what else to do. Feeding the customers nasty, burnt food and letting Bricker twist their minds so they left thinking they'd had the best meal ever was bad enough, but burning down Alex's restaurant was another.

He'd called Marguerite. As it had turned out, she and Leigh were in town for dinner and a movie and were only ten minutes away. The two women had headed over before he'd even finished explaining the situation.

However, it hadn't been Marguerite who had ended up saving his bacon, but Leigh. He'd learned at the wedding that she owned a restaurant but hadn't realized she could cook too. She could. She'd taken his place tonight at the head chef's station and manned it like a pro. Cale and Marguerite had alternately backed her up when necessary as she scrambled to catch up with theorders, and spent the rest of their time controlling the minds of the cooks in the kitchen as well as the waiters and waitresses, who were continually popping into the room with orders. They'd kept them from noticing what was happening and calling to tattle to Alex. It seemed, however, while they'd prevented anyone's calling out, Alex had called in. Fortunately, a quick read of Bev's mind told him that she hadn't said anything about the help he'd had here tonight.

"Well then," Marguerite murmured, snapping her phone shut and getting to her feet as Leigh stood up. "I guess we may as well head home."

Cale stood at once and moved to hug each woman with gratitude. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome," Marguerite murmured as he stepped back. She then smiled wryly, and added, "I'll see if I can find someone to take your place tomorrow night."

Cale thanked her again. He then hesitated, his glance moving to Bricker as the younger immortal stood. "Would you mind-"

"Certainly," Marguerite interrupted. "The enforcer house is on our way. We'll drop Bricker off."

"I'll get our coats," Bricker offered.

Cale murmured his thanks and watched as the man headed out of the room.

"Cale."

He shifted his gaze back to Marguerite to see a troubled look on her face. After a sigh, she said, "I think it may be best if you tell Alex the truth about your lack of cooking ability as soon as you can. Perhaps not untilshe gets to know you a little better, but don't leave it too long. A relationship started on lies has a shaky foundation."

Cale nodded solemnly, knowing she was right. As immortals, they had enough secrets to overcome to enjoy a relationship. Unnecessary lies just added to the burden. "I will."

"Here's yours," Bricker announced, appearing at the office door. He was wearing his own winter coat and holding out Cale's. "So are you heading to a hotel or something? "

"Or something." Cale accepted the coat, and then glanced around to see where Alex had put his suit jacket earlier. Spotting it on a coatrack in the corner, he grabbed it and tugged first it, and then the winter coat on before turning to urge Bricker and the women out of the office.

"Do you need the address?" Bricker asked, pausing in the doorway and forcing Cale to a halt as well.

"What address?" he asked warily.

"To the new La Bonne Vie," Bricker said dryly and shook his head. "Don't bother trying to keep secrets for a while. Your mind is an open book at the moment. Alex is definitely the one."

"I think he realizes that, Bricker," Marguerite said dryly, taking his arm to urge him forward so Cale could get out of the room. "And I have already given him the address."

"You have?" Cale asked, his surprise distracting him from the irritation Bricker's words had stirred in him.

Marguerite nodded, continuing to tug Bricker acrossthe kitchen toward the back door. "Check your phone. I texted it to you."

Recalling her fiddling with her phone earlier, Cale dragged his own out of his pocket and quickly checked his text messages. Sure enough, there was one from Marguerite with a street address on it. Cale grinned to himself and then hurried after the trio.

"Thank you, Marguerite," he murmured, pausing to press a kiss to her cheek before opening the back door for the three of them. Leigh smiled at him wearily as she led the other two out, then Cale glanced to Bev. Reading the anxiety in her mind about locking up and making her way to her car in the dark parking lot alone, Cale held the door for her, and murmured, "I'll wait and walk you to your car before I go."

"Thank you," she said with obvious relief. She quickly locked the door, and then nearly jogged to a small Toyota parked by the Dumpster. "Is your car far? Would you like a ride? It's cold out tonight."

Cale smiled faintly, but shook his head. "My car isn't far. I'm fine. Have a good night."

"Good night." She pulled the car door closed, starting the engine as he turned away.

Cale immediately headed around the side of the restaurant. Marguerite, Leigh, and Bricker were already turning out of sight at the front of the building, en route to whatever vehicle the women had arrived in. Cale followed just as swiftly, eager to get to the restaurant and see Alex again. He'd help her with whatever problem it was she'd run into and get a chance to woo her a bit. Well, he would help so long as it wasn't cooking, Calethought wryly. While he'd learned a thing or two from watching Leigh tonight, Cale didn't think he'd ever be offering himself up as a chef again ... or allow anyone else to either.

Grimacing to himself, he hurried to his car and got in, his key in the ignition almost before he even had the door closed. Immortals could better bear more extremes of temperature, but it was damned cold out tonight. Cold enough that Cale was feeling it and couldn't get the engine started and the heater going quick enough. Leaving the car to heat up, he turned his attention to the rental car's GPS system and entered the address Marguerite had texted him. By the time he had a route mapped out, the car windows had defrosted. He shifted into drive and set out, trying to come up with an excuse to give for seeking her out there.

Alex was humming the tune playing in her ears and doing a little dance to the beat as she dragged the ladder several steps to the right and then climbed back up to resume her painting. She'd decided the painters had the right idea and fetched her earplugs to listen to music on her iPhone as she worked. She had always found music soothing. It often helped her be creative as well. She'd come up with some of her best recipes while rock music blared in her ears. Still, she was surprised it had managed to lift her out of the hellish mood she'd been in after watching Bill and the boys drive away.

She'd been low enough at that point that Alex had almost given up and just gone home to bed to sleep the rest of her life away. However, she'd always been afighter, and the mood hadn't lasted long. After allowing herself a few minutes to indulge in a self-pity party, she'd managed to gather herself, grab her purse, and head for the paint store. As Bill had said, if she wanted it painted, she would have to do it herself. Certainly, there was no way she was going to get another painting company to send men out past dinnertime on a Friday night. She was it.

After hitting the paint store for primer and painting paraphernalia, Alex had swung by the hardware store for a ladder before returning to settle into doing it herself. Oddly enough, she found the experience rather soothing. There was something about emptying your mind and simply letting it drift while your body worked ... it did wonders for her stress level. Unfortunately, once the tension had left, other sensations had started to make their way to the surface ... like hunger ... and thirst. Sadly, food was the one thing she hadn't thought to buy while on her shopping trip.

Grimacing at her hunger pangs, Alex turned to run the roller through the tray, only to find she'd used up the last of the paint in it. Pausing, she glanced toward the ground and the paint can waiting there, and then back to the wall. She was no professional but thought she was doing a pretty good job so far. She'd gotten the primer up and was now working on the first coat of White Sand, with two walls and part of a third done. Despite the primer, it was going to take two coats to finish the walls properly, and she'd hoped to get at least the first coat done before going out in search of food.

However, her stomach felt like it was taking an acidbath and, frankly, she was running low on energy. Her legs had actually started shaking a couple of times as she'd worked on this third wall. Shaky legs and ladders just didn't seem like a good combination to her. It would be more sensible to take a break now and finish after she'd hit a fast-food joint or something.

As a chef, Alex would never admit to anyone that she enjoyed anything as pedestrian as rubbery burgers with reconstituted onions and processed, half-wax cheese on them, but at times like this, cheeseburgers were a fast treat that would hit the spot.

Smiling at the thought, Alex set the roller in the tray, picked it up in one hand, and carefully backed down off the ladder. She'd bought several rollers so didn't bother washing this one. Instead, she left it to dry, closed the paint can, and then headed toward the back of the restaurant. After washing her hands, she ducked into her office to retrieve her purse and coat. A moment later, she was letting herself out the back door, and then nearly jumping out of her skin when something brushed her arm.

Alex whirled to see what it was, shrieking when she saw the dark figure looming over her. Wielding her purse like a weapon, she instinctively began to thrash her attacker with it, slamming it over his head with one hand as she punched at his stomach, his arm, and anything else she could reach with her other.

Fortunately, her earplugs got jerked from her ears with the action and she became aware that her "attacker" was shouting her name between efforts to blockher blows. Ending her assault, she stepped warily back, eyeing the dark figure. Her voice was shaky as she asked, "Who are you?"

"Cale Valens," he answered with a sigh, straightening from the slightly hunched position he'd taken when she started assaulting him.

"Cale?" Eyes widening with disbelief, she asked, "My chef, Cale?"

"Sort of," he muttered.

Alex was digging in her purse for her keys and silently berating herself for not turning on the outer lights and checking the small parking lot behind the restaurant before stepping out. She found her keys and pulled them out, then quickly flicked on the attached tiny flashlight to run over him. It was definitely Cale, her chef, she noted, and frowned at the way his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. A trick of the light, she told herself, and glanced around uncertainly. The parking lot was empty except for her car.

"Where's your car?" she asked.

"Parked out front. I was originally at the front door, but couldn't get your attention. When I saw you head for the back of the restaurant, I came around back, hoping you were coming out," he explained quietly, and then urged her hand holding the flashlight away so it was no longer shining in his face. "Would you mind? That's very bright."

"Sorry," she muttered, shutting it off. Alex shifted from one foot to the other, her gaze sliding to her car as she contemplated the meal she had been heading outto collect, but then sighed, and asked, "What are you doing here? "

"Bev mentioned you had run into a problem and I wondered if I might help," he said quietly.

"Why?" she asked with surprise, drawing a short laugh from him.

"Do Canadians not believe in helping others when they are in need?" he asked rather than answer the question.

"Well, yes, but you don't even know me," she pointed out dryly.

"I'd like to," he responded, and Alex stilled in surprise. She'd become so used to men simply walking away or ignoring her lately that his words quite took her breath away. It was a bit stunning ... and-if she was honest with herself-tempting. Cale was a good-looking man, and at another time she might have been pleased to let him get to know her, but this wasn't the time. Alex had a restaurant to get up and running and another to keep from floundering. Flirting with a coworker or-even worse-an employee just wasn't smart.

Shaking her head, she said quietly, "I'm afraid I don't have time in my life right now to get to know anyone. Excuse me."

Alex turned to cross the short distance to her car but was only halfway to it when Cale was at her side again.

"Where are you going?" he asked, matching his step to hers as she walked around her car.

"Home," she lied, hoping that would get rid of him, but instead she caught him shaking his head out of the corner of her eye.

"I don't think so. You left the lights on in the restaurant and you haven't finished painting yet," Cale commented.

Alex stopped at the driver's side door and glanced at him sharply. "You were looking through the windows?"

"I have been here quite a while. I did knock several times, but you apparently couldn't hear me with your headphones on," he said wryly. "Besides, it is a business, not a private home. You needn't make it sound like I am a Peeping Paul."

"Peeping Tom," she corrected absently, wondering how long he'd been watching her. Deciding it didn't matter she hit the button to unlock her car and pulled the driver's door open. "Fine, I'm not going home, I'm heading out to get something to eat. But I have a lot on my plate and really don't have time for men right now, so good night."

Alex then quickly slid into her car and pulled the door closed before he could say anything else to tempt her. Fortunately, he didn't make a pest of himself but backed a couple of steps away from the car. Breathing out a little sigh of relief, Alex stuck her key in the ignition and quickly cranked it forward, only to freeze as all she got was a click click click.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she muttered, cranking the key again with the same result. She was no mechanic, that had been her father, and while he'd tried to teach her the fundamentals about cars when she was young, she hadn't paid much attention. Still, she knew that sound couldn't be a good sign. Alex tried a thirdtime with the same result, and then groaned and let her head drop to rest on the steering wheel in despair. This was the living end. She just could not handle all these problems hitting her one right after the other. What the hell had she ever done to deserve this ridiculous run of bad luck? She was a good person, generally nonjudgmental and nice to everyone she met. She also gave to charity. What the hell had she done to deserve this?

A tap at her window made her raise her head to peer out at Cale. To give him credit, he looked concerned rather than smug about her latest problem, which was nice since she'd just basically told him to hit the road in a very polite way. Alex heaved out a breath and straightened in her seat. Forgetting that the engine hadn't started, she hit the button to unroll the window, realized her mistake when nothing happened, and instead opened the door.

"Can I help?" he offered quietly.

Alex felt her lips twist and asked, "Do you know anything about cars? "

"No. It is not my area of expertise," he admitted apologetically. "But I have my rental car here and can take you where you wish to go."

Alex stared at him silently, debating the matter. She suspected most men would have wasted her time banging around under the hood, and then simply given her some spiel about not having the parts to fix it rather than admit they didn't know how. She appreciated his honesty, but she'd just told him she didn't have time for a man, and she didn't. Would accepting his help now constitute using him? Would he expect somethingfrom her in return? Did she care? Frankly, Alex was so hungry she would start eating paint chips if she didn't find some food.

"No strings attached," Cale added solemnly, and that was enough for her.

"What the hell," she muttered, grabbing her purse and quickly getting out of the car.

They were both silent as they walked around the building. For her part, Alex was too tired to come up with anything to say. She wasn't even considering what she was going to do about her car. She was simply concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and not falling on her butt on the icy concrete. As for Cale, she had no idea why he was so silent.

She'd half expected him to redouble his efforts to convince her to let him "get to know her." However, he didn't and was also silent as he ushered her to a Lexus parked on the street in front of her restaurant.

Alex murmured her thanks as he opened the door and took her elbow to aid her in. He then closed the door for her before hurrying around to the driver's side, and Alex wondered if good manners were a European thing. She had never had a Canadian man see her into a vehicle like she was spun glass that needed coddling.

She quickly did up her seat belt, and then glanced to Cale as the driver's side door opened. He got into the car on a cold breeze carrying a combination of citrus and a woodsy aroma she couldn't identify. Toronto air had never smelled that good. Alex was pretty sure the scent was his, some designer aftershave she guessed, and found herself inhaling deeply with appreciation.

"Where would you like to go?" Cale asked, starting the engine before doing up his own seat belt.

Alex opened her mouth, and then hesitated about admitting she'd planned to hit a fast-food joint. He was a Parisian chef, for heaven's sake, and would no doubt sneer at the thought of fast food. On the other hand, she wasn't interested in him and shouldn't care, Alex reminded herself and spat out the name with defiance.

"And where is that?" Cale asked, not even arching a supercilious eyebrow at her choice.

Alex found herself relaxing and gave the directions. It wasn't far, and she hadn't considered that it was past midnight, so was relieved to see that the restaurant had a twenty-four-hour drive-thru.

It quickly became obvious Cale had never gone to a drive-thru before. Alex found herself biting her lip with amusement when he rolled the window all the way down and leaned half out of it to talk directly into the speaker. Her eyebrows rose with surprise, however, when he gave her order, hesitated, and then said, "Double everything please, it's for two."

Alex now suspected she was going to have company for her meal. She'd been hoping he'd simply drive her back and drop her off with her booty, allowing her to get on with her business. But if he asked to join her to eat, it would really be rude to refuse after he'd taken her to the restaurant and back ... and even paid for the food, she added with silent irritation when he waved away the money she offered to pay for both meals.

Alex spent the ride back to the restaurant ignoring the scents emanating from the bag on her lap andconcentrating on figuring out the best way to get rid of Cale once they were done eating. A polite, "Well, I have to get back to work now, so thanks for everything," seemed the best way to go. At least that was the best she'd come up with by the time they'd reached her restaurant again.

Rather than risk a ticket for parking on the street, Alex directed him to park around back and was out of the car almost the moment he stopped. She was walking toward the back door of the restaurant, the bag of food in one hand and searching her pocket for her keys with her other when Cale called her name. Pausing impatiently, she glanced back to see him coming around the car with one of the drinks in hand.

He smiled almost painfully as he approached, and then said, "I doubled the order intending to eat as well."

"Yes, I figured that out," Alex assured him, and when he hesitated, she recognized the significance of his only carrying one drink and realized he hadn't intended on joining her as she'd feared. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, flushing, "I thought you expected to eat here with me."

She started to shift the bag in her hands, intending to retrieve her half of the food, but he said, "Well I hadn't intended to because you'd said you were busy, but since you are inviting me, I will be pleased to join you."

"Oh, I-" Alex started to tell him that it hadn't really been an invitation, but he was already hurrying around his car to shut off the still-running engine and fetch the other drink.

Sighing, she shook her head at her own inept tendency to get herself into these ridiculous situations,and then turned and continued on to the back door of the restaurant. By the time she had unlocked it, he was behind her, and Alex pulled the door open and then held it for him to enter with the drinks. She followed him inside, but Cale paused after only a couple of steps to peer around.

A low whistle slid from his lips as he took in the setup. "It's huge."

"Three times as big as the original La Bonne Vie," Alex acknowledged proudly as she paused beside him to peer over the kitchen herself. She was rather pleased with what she'd done here. She'd designed the layout herself and thought it was perfect. There was plenty of room so people wouldn't be tripping over each other, and yet no one was so far away that they would have to raise their voices to be heard.

"You are planning for more kitchen staff, obviously," he said, glancing over the various stations.

"More than double the staff at the original restaurant," she acknowledged, "They're already hired and trained and ready to go."

He glanced at her curiously. "I am surprised you simply did not have one of them step in and take Peter's place tonight then."

Alex shook her head. "I've had them training with my staff at the other restaurant for the last month, but released them yesterday for the next two weeks so they could get themselves and everything else in order before this restaurant opens. Most of them went on vacation or headed home to move their families here this week."

When Cale raised an eyebrow, she explained, "Several were from out of town and we had an agreement to wait for the training to end before making the hiring permanent. It was in case we couldn't work together," she explained with a shrug.

While Alex had been careful about whom she hired, people presented a different side during an interview than they did in the workplace. Peter was a case in point. He'd been charming and obsequious when she'd hired him but had become an egomaniac in the kitchen. She'd wanted to avoid making that mistake again so had put the temporary clause into the agreement to try to ensure she did. Fortunately, they'd all seemed to work out very well ... so far.

"The head chef I hired is from British Columbia, and flew home this morning to help his wife move house here. Otherwise, I'd have asked him to take over at the original restaurant until I could find a replacement."

"Aren't you going to be head chef here?" Cale asked with surprise.

Alex felt her mouth twist with displeasure as she led the way into the dining room. "That was the original plan. I'd hire a business manager to take care of the business end of both restaurants and be head chef here."

"But?" Cale prompted, following her to the center of the dining room, where she set down the bag of food and her purse and then shrugged out of her coat. Dropping that to the floor too, she plopped down to sit on the drop cloth and began to open the bag holding their food.

"But I ran into a few snags and the money started running out," she said dryly as she set out the burgersand fries. Glancing his way as he set aside his coat and settled across the food from her, she added, "Business managers are expensive."

"And head chefs aren't?" he asked with surprise.

"Really good head chefs can be expensive if they are ambitious and want to use their own recipes and eventually start their own restaurants. But the man I hired is easygoing, not very ambitious at all. He's more than happy just to cook my recipes in my restaurant and has no aspirations to be the next Gordon Ramsey." She began to unwrap a burger. "He's also originally from this end of the country, and eager enough to return that he was willing to work relatively cheaply ... at least at first," she added on a sigh. "I've agreed to increase his pay after the first six months. By then I'm hoping the restaurant is paying for itself."

"But you would really rather be head chef yourself," he said slowly, watching almost curiously as she bit into her burger.

Alex chewed and swallowed, just managing not to murmur with pleasure as the first bite dropped into her empty stomach. She then reached for a french fry and nodded. "Of course. Cooking has always been my first love. I'd rather do that than anything in the world. And, really, if I'd known that opening this second restaurant was going to be such a pain in the ass and force me to give up cooking, I'd never have started it."

"I see." Cale carefully unwrapped his own burger.

Alex took another bite and peered wistfully around the unfinished dining room. She'd had such high hopes for this expansion, fantasies about manning the lovelynew kitchen, creating amazing new recipes, serving world-class meals, and maybe even earning a much-sought-after Michelin star if Michelin ever did a travel guide for Canada. She'd heard rumors they were considering or even producing one, and it would be the highlight of her career to earn a Michelin star or two or three.

But those were just fantasies. The grim reality was that, thanks to all the problems she'd run into with opening this restaurant, she had gone through all her savings and had to take out a loan secured by her house to finish the renovations. Alex would now be happy just to get this restaurant up and running and supporting itself. The hope that it would do well enough that she could pay off all of her debt and hire a business manager so that she could return to cooking was just that, a hope. And it was starting to look like something not likely to happen until sometime in the very distant future ... if at all. Alex now sincerely wished she'd never started this project. She'd been happy in her own little kitchen at the original La Bonne Vie with a nice little nest egg. Why hadn't she simply been content with that?

"This is good."

The surprised exclamation from Cale drew Alex away from her thoughts. She glanced curiously his way to see him lifting the top bun of his burger to peer at what was underneath as he enthusiastically chewed the food in his mouth. Smiling slightly, she said, "It's just a cheeseburger. Have you never had one before?"

Cale shook his head, too busy biting into the burger again to actually answer with words.

Alex chuckled softly and took another bite of her own burger, watching with amusement as Cale once again opened his burger to look at the fixings.

"A burger is beef, oui?" he asked, peering at the patty.

"Yes," she said with a laugh.

"And these little white things?" he asked, poking at the fixings on top.

"Reconstituted onions," she answered.

"Reconstituted?"

"They dry them out and ship them to the restaurant, where they're soaked in water to reinflate them before putting them on the burgers."

"Why?" he asked with surprise.

Alex shrugged. "Perhaps they feel real onions would be overpowering on the little burgers. They use real, fresh onion on the larger burgers."

"Hmm." Cale took another bite, apparently not bothered that these onions had been dehydrated and then rehydrated before landing on his burger.

Alex watched him for a moment, surprised by how much he seemed to be enjoying the simple meal. He was eating like a starving man, she thought, and then shook her head and turned her attention back to her own food.

"So," Cale murmured as he swallowed the last bite of his burger and turned his attention to the little packet of fries. He took one of the pale sticks out and peered at it curiously, then continued, "If you found someone who would manage both businesses at a low wage, you could return to cooking? "

"In my dreams," Alex muttered, and popped a fry into her own mouth. A good business manager to oversee both restaurants would cost at least twice what she was paying either of her head chefs, who while carrying the title head chef, were actually working as sous-chefs or even station chefs. She herself was still making all the decisions, creating the menu, managing the staff, handling scheduling and payroll and doing all the other things a head chef usually dealt with. She just wasn't getting to cook anymore.

"This would make you happy, oui?" Cale asked, and his accent was thicker than usual.

Alex glanced up to see that he was watching her solemnly as he awaited her answer. That, as well as the fact that his accent had thickened, made her suspect that her answer was important somehow.

"Of course it would," she answered honestly. "I hate the business end of things. I am not an organized type person by nature. I'm more a creative sort, used to chaos."

"Chaos?"

Alex nodded. "Flour and other ingredients everywhere, the clang of pots and pans, the clack of dinnerware, the smell of Italian seasonings or spicy herbs from the entrees competing with the vanilla and lemon from the dessert area." She shrugged. "It's usually controlled chaos in the kitchens every night, and I love it. Sitting in an airless little office trying to make the debit and credit columns balance is like some sort of torture to me." She sighed. "Besides, while I've always thoughtof myself as an easygoing, diplomatic sort, I've found that I'm really not very good in a crisis."

Alex grimaced, and told him, "I'm afraid I've been reduced to shrieking a couple of times this last week when things went wrong. I guess the stress is getting to me."

"Hmm." Cale cleared his throat and said, "Then I think I can help get you back to cooking, Alex."

"How?" she asked with surprise.

"I am not really a chef."