Crossing Knives, Chapter 10: Secrets, Surprises, Sauvignon Blanc
TITLE OF STORY: Crossing Knives CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: Chapter 10 AUTHOR: missviolethunter / missviolethunterwrites WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: AU Tom / Chef Tom GENRE: Romance, Comedy FIC SUMMARY: Tom Hiddleston is the brilliant executive chef of Band of Brothers, a London restaurant with a Michelin star. He also has a reputation for being arrogant, cocky and difficult. Hallie Harrison is a former home cook who has just won Masterchef US. Luke Windsor is a restaurateur who is tired of constantly looking for new sous-chefs because Tom keeps making them quit. In a desperate move to save his restaurant, Luke offers Hallie a job as a sous-chef… and maybe also a chance to meet the man of her dreams in the least likely of places: the kitchen of Band of Brothers. RATING: Explicit WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: None FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Links to previous chapters: Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9
CHAPTER 10: SECRETS, SURPRISES, SAUVIGNON BLANC
Monday mornings marked the start of the work week at Band of Brothers. Planning menus, receiving deliveries, scheduling any special events… all those things had to be done on a Monday so the rest of the week would be properly organized.
Every day Tom was the first one to arrive. Sometimes a bit hungover, or wearing the same clothes as the night before (there was a shower in Luke’s office, and Tom always kept a change of work clothes in the car). But, no matter what he had been doing during the long weekend, he was always in the kitchen when everybody else got there.
Which is why Birdie and Kumal, the cooks, who were neighbours and usually caught the same tube, were so surprised to find the back door of the restaurant firmly closed. And locked. Birdie searched in her large handbag for her set of keys, that she barely had any occasion to use. She also grabbed her phone, wondering if she should call Luke or if she was worrying about nothing. It was half past eleven, and they didn’t have to start until noon, so it wasn’t really alarming that Chef Tom had decided to oversleep a little.
She was so concentrated, mobile phone in one hand and keys in the other, that she almost didn’t hear Luke’s voice behind her.
“Morning, Birdie! Hey, Kumal!” He turned off the engine and got out of the car, smiling brightly, with a cup of Starbucks in one hand and some donut crumbs on his otherwise immaculate suit. Luke Windsor was definitely a morning person.
“Morning, Mr. Windsor. Is Chef Tom with you?”
“Tom? No, I haven’t seen him since Saturday; I’ve got several lost calls from him, so I thought I’d come early so we could talk.” He glanced at the door, then at the two people in front of him, and finally at the door again. “Is there anything wrong? Why are you out here?”
Birdie sighed. “It’s locked. And empty.”
Luke frowned for a brief moment. “Well, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. He must have been partying until late, I’ll give him a call and tell him to get his arse out of bed.”
They all got in; the cooks headed towards the kitchen and Luke to his office. He tried calling Tom, but the call went straight to voicemail. And again. After four tries, he resorted to messaging.
‘Hey, mate, are you alright?’
‘Tom, I’m sorry I couldn’t come over yesterday, I was at my parents’ in Oxfordshire and I didn’t get home until all hours.’
‘Hiddleston, it’s almost noon. If you’re down with the flu I can go by your place and bring you some chicken soup, but I need you to speak to me.’
No response. He headed to the kitchen, where Hallie, Connor and Alex had also arrived and were starting to prep all kinds of food for the dinner service.
“Good morning, gods and goddesses of the culinary world! How’s the week presenting?”
A chorus of cheerful voices assured him, all at the same time, that everything was perfect (and that chefs can be very, very loud people). Only Hallie didn’t say anything except for a deflated ‘Hi Luke’, and that made him worry.
He decided to try calling Tom again, and right in that moment he heard the main door open and close with a slamming sound. And there was the missing Chef Hiddleston, standing in the hallway, in his chef whites, pale and sulky like the Ghost of Canterville on a bad day (minus the chains. And the castle. And the undead thing, although he did have the ashy complexion).
“Finally! I was starting to worry. Are you alright, mate? I tried calling you…”
“I was driving. Fine. I’m fine.” His voice sounded at least an octave lower than usual, which made it hard for Luke to understand him.
“I know that tone, Hiddleston, and it’s everything but fine. Look, if you’re not feeling well and you need the day off, just…”
“You can’t send me home, Luke”, was the half-growled answer. “This place is as mine as it is yours, so spare me your ‘cool boss’ talk and let me get to work.”
Now Luke was absolutely sure that Tom was either sick or being an asshole on purpose. Or maybe both. He adjusted his glasses on his nose, thinking of the best way to find out the truth.
“Great. Do whatever you want. If at any point in the day you feel like talking to your business partner and oldest friend, and telling him what the bloody hell is wrong with you, I’ll be in my office.”
About twenty minutes later, a quick rap at the door made Luke smile triumphantly.
“It’s always open, Tom! Come in and share that sob story, whatever it is!”
The door opened slowly, but instead of Tom’s closely cropped curls what appeared behind it was a head of blond hair, neatly tucked in a bun under a white chef hat.
“Luke, it’s me. Sorry to interrupt you, but…”
“Hallie! I meant it when I said it’s always open. Please come in. Coffee?”
“Luke, Tom burnt a sauce ten minutes ago and went to the pantry. He… he’s locked himself in and he’s not answering when we knock.”
Luke got up from his desk, looking slightly murderous. “Okay, this has gone too far. I’m going to…”
“Please don’t be angry with him! I think… I think it’s my fault that he’s all moody today, but I can’t get him to talk to me.” She covered her face with her hands.
“Fine, let’s all calm down. I won’t kill him…yet. Now let’s go to the pantry and find out why he’s acting more like an idiot than usual.”
In the kitchen, everybody was trying to keep things normal. The pots were boiling, the pans sizzled, and the cooks… well, the cooks had one eye on the suspiciously closed door that connected the kitchen with the pantry. Nobody said a word, but they all turned to Luke in unison.
The increasingly worried restaurateur knocked on the door several times. “Thomas, this isn’t funny. Nor professional. Get your arse out of there!”
One or two muffled words came from inside.
“I can’t hear you, you sod! This is a fireproof door!”
Nothing. Seeing that Luke’s efforts were in vain, Hallie moved to the front of the group and approached the closed door.
“Tom, it’s Hallie! Please, can we talk?”
Silence for a moment, and then they all could hear the sound of the lock being turned. Slowly.
It still didn’t open, so Hallie grabbed the handle. Luke put a warning hand on her forearm.
“Whatever you do, get him out of there. I don’t want to appear in the Daily Mail as the evil restaurant owner who almost let two of his workers suffocate inside a closed pantry.”
“Suffocate? There’s a ventilation system in there.”
“You clearly don’t read the Mail”, Luke sighed. “Just try and make him see reason, please.”
Hallie opened the door and got inside, closing it behind her without a noise.
“Now you want to see me.”
The Band of Brothers pantry was a spacious and well organized room, with cabinets and shelves to one side and a row of industrial sized freezers to the other. Tom was sitting on the floor, with his back to the wall and a can of beer in his hand, looking so miserable that Hallie almost had to fight back tears.
She thought of the best way to start the conversation; Tom seemed to be in a highly dramatic state, so she decided that maybe he would react if she dialed up the drama.
“Tom, if you want me to resign and leave, just say so and I’ll be out of here in a minute”, she stated in a clear voice.
“What?” He clearly wasn’t expecting that. He left the beer on the floor (unopened, Hallie noticed) and stood up with the help of the wall behind him.
He didn’t seem drunk, just extremely hungover and a more than a little angry. He walked up towards Hallie very slowly, as if he was walking under water.
“Did you have fun with your boyfriend Harrington the other night?”
Hallie went red as a beet. “Tom, I went to…”
“I know where you went. For some reason you decided I wasn’t good enough for you, so you staged your little freak-out and then Craig came to your rescue like a knight in shining armor. Well played.”
Hallie crossed her arms and frowned. “Tom, that wasn’t staged. I had to run home because I was feeling horrible, and then I got a text from Georgiana…”
“I see. So Georgiana was in it too, playing matchmaker for her little brother.”
“It was a birthday party! With at least fifty people in it!”
“I only saw two people in Harrington’s Tesla.”
Hallie took a step back. “Tom, were you following me?”
“Following you? Bollocks!” answered Tom, outraged. “It’s not my fault that in a city with nine million people you have decided to live right on my doorstep, Chef Harrison.”
“Well, it’s hard to see people’s faces from the balcony of your luxury penthouse, Chef Hiddleston, so you were either using a telescope or–”
“I don’t need a telescope to see when someone’s hiding something from me.”
She sighed. “Okay, this is ridiculous. We’re having a conversation in the stupid pantry–”
“An argument”, interrupted Tom.
“Fine, an argument. But this is not the time or the place to do this.”
Tom raked his fingers through his already tousled hair. “Right. We must look like a pair of bloody teenagers. But you didn’t deny you are hiding something from me, so don’t tell me I’m imagining things.”
Hallie closed her eyes for several seconds. When she opened them again, she looked very serious. “Can we call a truce for a few hours and talk after work? Yes, there’s something important I need to tell you… but it can’t be here.”
“Have it your way”, said Tom in a chilly tone. “I’ll take you home after work… but I don’t know what you want me to say, except that I feel like you’re gaslighting me.”
“You don’t have to say anything, just listen. And if you don’t like my explanation, tomorrow I will resign and you won’t have to see me again. Deal?”
“Fine.”
He opened the door for Hallie with an exaggerated flourish, and looked at the bunch of people who had congregated in front of the pantry door.
“What, don’t you all have jobs to do?”
Luke let out a sigh of relief. “I’m going to remove that lock today. No, forget about the lock, I’m having the whole door taken away.” He pointed a recriminating finger at Tom. “No more silly shenanigans in this kitchen, understood?”
Tom answered with a mock of a military salute.
“Splendid. Now, let’s all get back to work and forget the past thirty minutes of our lives. Back to cooking, everybody!”
At the same time Tom relived his personal drama in the Band of Brothers kitchen (and pantry), Harrington Craig was parking his Tesla right across the street.
He was in a bit of a hurry. Not exactly late, but he was anxious to try a couple of new and exotic ingredients he’d had shipped from Thailand the day before. Also, he had stayed at his parents’ brunch for a bit longer than he should.
According to the family chronicles, the Craigs had been doing brunch since before the word was invented. The only thing that had changed over the years was the date: what for centuries had been a Sunday event had been changed to Monday since his two elder sisters got married and started having children. Apparently, having all your weekends planned in advance is not practical when you have several little ones, so brunch was rescheduled and now everyone was happy (except for the aforementioned children, who of course were at school).
Whatever the reason, every Monday, Lord and Lady Craig had the table set for at least thirteen people: her eldest daughter Eleonora, her husband, and the youngest of their three girls (who was two years old, so no school yet); Georgiana, always alone because she pitied his boyfriends too much to make them endure the family event; Minerva and her husband with their two daughters (who were homeschooled, and loved being at the table with the grownups); Arabella, the youngest, who had recently became engaged to a young man and had earned the right to bring him to brunch; and, finally, Harry. Alone since his divorce… and frequently alone during his marriage, because his ex-wife Charlotte had hated his sisters with a passion (often reciprocated), and she always had an excuse to avoid setting foot in the Craigs’ Hampstead house.
On that particular day, brunch had been a bit uncomfortable for him. His sister Georgiana, always eager to embarrass him at family events, had told their mother about Hallie… and the hopeful Lady Craig had spent more than an hour trying to extract information from her son.
“My dear Harrington” (she was the only person who called him by his full name all the time). “If there’s a new young lady in your life, do bring her to tea sometime. I’ll be very glad to meet her.”
“That would be wonderful, dear Mamma, but despite what Georgie may have told you there’s nothing to write home about. I’ve met a girl I like, but unfortunately she only has eyes for Tom.”
“What a pity! Speaking of Thomas, I do wish you two would solve your differences. You were such good friends at school! You know, when you were younger I had the secret hope that he would end up marrying one of your sisters.”
Harry couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at this affirmation, and all the other people at the table reacted in a variety of ways: his sisters Nora and Belle managed to muffle a burst of laughter, while Georgiana, less used to hiding her impulses, laughed heartily. Only one of the sisters, Minnie, seemed very concentrated on her food, blushing furiously. She’d had a brief thing with Tom during their time in Oxford, and her sisters had teased her mercilessly for years about ‘the Hiddleston affair.’
As for the men who were also attending brunch, not one of them noticed a thing. Harry’s father was too busy enjoying his eggs Florentine; and all three of his daughter’s significant others were completely oblivious to the crossing of glances between the women and their amused mother.
“Anyway”, continued Lady Mountjoy once the giggling had stopped. “I haven’t lost hope of having a grandson yet. And apparently it has to come from you, because your sisters are exclusively occupied in having girls. Who I love very dearly, of course”, she added with a wink and a smile directed towards the three little girls sitting at the table. “But who’s going to inherit your father’s collection of toy soldiers?”
This time the laughter was general, husbands and father included. It was a running joke in the family, their particular genetic lottery. The elder sister, Nora, had three lovely girls; the second, Minnie, had two and was expecting twins… she had just found out that both of them were also girls. The youngest, Belle, wasn’t married yet, but she always joked that she was going to start buying pink furniture for her future home. And Lord Mountjoy’s collection of toy soldiers, enjoyed for the last time by Harry as a kid, had been collecting dust in the attic for more than twenty-five years.
Harry’s recollection of the family meal was suddenly interrupted by the sound of steps in front of him. He forced his attention back to reality, just in time to avoid a collision with a young Black woman carrying the largest Starbucks cup he had ever seen.
“Oy! Careful, Mister Daydreaming!” she said, holding the cup as far as she could from her leather portfolio and her elegant black and white suit. She never lost her smile, however, and Harry wondered how a person who was on her way to work, and obviously in a hurry, could be in such good spirits.
“I am awfully sorry… God, I hope nothing has spilled.” He surveyed the woman’s slender figure looking for a nonexistent stain, and then something clicked in his mind. “Wait a minute… don’t I know you? You work with Luke Windsor, right?”
“Exactly, I’m his assistant. Shirley Berry.” She managed to hold both portfolio and coffee in her left hand, and extended the right towards Harry’s offered handshake.
“Harry Craig. I’ve heard Luke talk wonders about you several times.”
“Well, he manages the restaurant, and I manage his finances, his schedule, and the rest of his professional life. Everything except Tom, of course. No one in the world can manage that man… but according to the rumours you already know that.”
Harry smirked. “You know, all this time I’ve been wondering how Band of Brothers is doing so well despite Tom not being able to keep his staff stable… maybe I should have looked into the business side of it. If you ever feel tempted to switch your allegiance, I’ll be right here with open arms”, he added with a shy smile.
“Awww, that may be the nicest thing anyone has said to me in weeks. To be completely honest I have no intention to change jobs… but if you weren’t my boss’s best friend’s mortal enemy, I’d invite you to coffee.”
“Even if you are my mortal enemy’s best friend’s assistant, I will take you up on that invitation. I see you like Starbucks, but you may want to try a little café two streets away from here; they serve the best blends in London.”
Shirley’s smile widened. “That sounds great. And I promise Tom hasn’t paid me to poison your Cappuccino or anything.”
“Actually, I take it Ristretto… just so you know where to put the poison”, he answered with a wink.
“Duly noted.” She scribbled her personal mobile on a card and handed it to Harry, and they parted ways, hurrying towards their respective restaurants.
Harry put the business card in his pocket, and a second later he changed his mind and stored it in his wallet. Growing up in a house full of sisters had made him notoriously bad at flirting for many years, so he liked it when women took the initiative in a frank, carefree way, like Shirley had done. Even if it was just for coffee, and not a real date.
The workday at Band of Brothers ended almost at midnight. Most Londoners, except for the ones who partied really hard, were already asleep or getting ready for bed, so the light traffic allowed Tom’s Aston Martin to make the trip from Chelsea to Goswell Road in twenty minutes, instead of the usual thirty.
That meant twenty long minutes of sulky silence on Tom’s part. After the bumpy start of the day he had been more cooperative, but for most of the day he’d kept a stubborn silence. Hallie tried to lighten the mood making a couple of casual comments at the start of the drive, but noticing the lack of response she chose to concentrate on her phone. She texted her mother to let her know she was bringing Tom home, but Lorraine hadn’t answered her yet.
Finally, when they were only a couple of minutes away from the City, Tom broke his silence.
“Texting your boyfriend?”
Hallie huffed. “I’m glad you’re speaking to me again. And no, as far as I know I don’t have a boyfriend, thanks for asking.”
“Then what do you call the Honorable Harrington Craig? Just a fuckbuddy? A friend with benefits?” he asked between gritted teeth. “I bet he’s already planning to make you the second Mrs. Craig. He can be very quick when it comes to marrying other people's–”
“Will you stop with that, Tom? We’re almost… turn right, please, we’re almost there. You can park around that corner.”
Tom decided to go back to sulking in silence during the short walk through the front door, up the stairs, and finally through the door of Hallie’s flat on the second floor.
“Hallie? Is that you, cupcake?”
“Yes, Mom, I’m home.”
A cheerful looking woman got up from the couch and turned off the television. Tom thought she looked exactly like an older version of Hallie, only a bit shorter. And with glasses.
“Ah, you must be Tom! Nice to meet you, I’m Lorraine Harrison” she said, offering him a firm handshake. “Sorry I didn’t drop by the restaurant to meet you sooner, but I was a little busy with… with a thing that I’m sure Hallie will tell you in a moment.”
“That’s why I asked him here, Mom. To talk.”
Lorraine exchanged a knowing glance with her daughter, a glance that left Tom even more puzzled than before.
“Well, in that case I’m going to the kitchen to have a cuppa. The living room is all yours.”
Hallie led a very suspicious Tom to the living room and asked him to sit down. He did, looking around him as if he was expecting some kind of nasty surprise to jump at his face in any moment.
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Am I going to need one?”
“Probably.”
He made an affirmative sign, and Hallie walked to the dining room table, where someone –probably Lorraine and her motherly powers of precognition– had set a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses. She offered one to Tom, and remained standing in front of him.
“Look, I’m not usually a person who shares all her secrets, but…” she paused. “What I mean is that there’s something I should have told you when we met, but it was…”
Another pause. Despite Tom’s resentment, it was actually painful for him to see Hallie struggle like that. He took a sip of his wine; very nice, not expensive but good vintage, whispered his restaurant-trained mind.
“Christ, Hallie, you look like you’re going to confess a crime”, he blurted. “I don’t mind hiring felons, you know. One of our line cooks stole a car when he was sixteen, and that didn’t keep me from giving him a job.”
“No, it’s not that.” Hallie blushed and started pacing up and down the room. “It’s just… a long story.”
“I have all the time in the world. Or at least until I have to open the restaurant tomorrow.”
She took a deep breath and almost emptied her glass of wine. “Okay. As you know, my family moved from here to California when I was a toddler. My Dad owned a small agricultural supplies company, that now belongs to my older brother. Eight years ago, I was starting my second year at UCLA, when–”
“Mommy, can you come say goodnight to Stuart?”
There was a boy standing at the door; a sleepy little boy with blond straw-like hair, wearing a Lighting McQueen pyjamas, and holding a Minion plush almost as big as him. With the corner of his eye, Tom looked at Hallie. She was paralyzed, all the blood having escaped from her face, so he tried to react in the less awkward way he could think of.
“Hello, mate! I’m Tom.” He extended a hand towards the kid, who shook it with enthusiasm.
“Hi Tom, I’m Max. Hey, my best friend at school also calls me mate! Is it an England thing?”
“You’re absolutely right, it’s an England thing”, Tom said with a very serious face. “It’s what we call our best friends here.”
“Are you Mom’s chef boss? She says you make the best food in the world!”
Hallie finally came out of her stupor with a shy laugh. She crouched beside the boy and hugged him.
“Oh, Max… What are you doing up, pumpkin?”
“I heard the door and I wanted to say goodnight. Is it very late?”
“Very very late. All the other children in London are in bed, you’re the only one awake. Aren’t you sleepy?”
“Yes…” as if choreographed, a giant yawn followed the word. “Yes, I think I’m going back to bed now. Goodnight, Chef Tom.”
“Goodnight, buddy.”
Hallie picked up the dozing child with one arm and Stuart the minion with the other. “I’ll be right back”, she said before disappearing into one of the doors.
During the following moments Tom sat motionless, in complete silence, listening to the distant sound of two voices wishing sweet dreams to each other. When Hallie reappeared he pretended to concentrate in his glass of Sauvignon Blanc, still full.
She sat down on the couch beside him, but not too close.
“Well, I guess the explanation I was giving you is kind of moot now. As you may have guessed, Max is my son… And he’s the reason why I’ve been hiding things and acting strangely. Part of the reason, at least.”
A light went up in Tom’s mind. “Hallie, are you trying to tell me that you’re married?”
“Of course not! I would never have gone out to dinner with you if I was married.”
“Trouble with your ex?”
“I don’t have an ex”, she said in a low, breathy voice. “I’ve never been married, Tom.”
Tom closed his eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. When he opened his eyes again, the black cloud that loomed over him had started to dissipate.
“So… this was your terrible, horrible secret? Many single people have children. And I’m sure Max a handful, but… I like kids. You didn’t have to hide that from me.”
“I was scared.” Hallie reached for the bottle of wine, but Tom was faster; he grabbed it first and poured her another glass. “Thanks.”
“Scared of me finding out about Max? I already told you, there’s no reason–”
She placed her hand over Tom’s for a moment and then drew it back, as if his skin had burned her.
“Tom, this isn’t easy for me. I really need you to listen without saying anything for a couple of minutes, because I’m not used to talking about… personal things. Not with anyone outside my family or my closest friends, who are all girls.”
“I’m listening”, he said in the most reassuring tone he could manage.
Hallie repositioned herself on the sofa a couple of times, looking alternatively at Tom and at the wall in front of her.
“Max’s father… Dave… was my first serious boyfriend. We started dating on the last year of High School, and we weren’t sure what to do with the relationship after that… but then we both ended up in UCLA, so things went on.” She seemed to relax a little, and took off her shoes. “College was a lot of fun at first. I had a lot of friends, a popular boyfriend, I was in a sorority… I was going to get my BA in World Arts and Culture, and I loved it. I guess I wasn’t the most brilliant student, but I did well enough in class. And then, just at the start of my sophomore year… I found out I was pregnant.”
“Did you have a fight? Did he leave you?” Tom blurted without thinking. “Sorry, I just… sorry. No more interruptions.”
“No, he didn’t leave me”, she continued in a soft, sad voice. “He said he would do the right thing… his parents were very religious. Episcopalian. And as soon as they knew what happened they started planning our wedding. Quickly, before it started to show, because… you know. The scandal.”
She left the empty glass of wine aside, and held her knees to her chest.
“My parents told us to wait, to be sure of our decision, to see what happened with the way Dave and I felt about everything after the baby had been born. Mom was very insistent about that, she said we were too young and life was too complicated to throw our education aside and start playing house. But Dave’s parents wouldn’t even hear about that, and we were in love… or, at least, the kind of love you’re in when you’re nineteen and you haven’t experienced real life before. Dave started to work with his father at a real estate company; he came to see me every morning before going to work. My future mother-in-law let me borrow her wedding dress. She arranged all of it: the church, the flowers, the music… I don’t remember much of the preparations, everybody told me I had to rest and take care of the baby so I wasn’t allowed to help much.”
Hallie’s gaze was fixed on the wall now, and her voice was almost inaudible.
Tom opened his mouth to speak again and then he remembered in the nick of time that he wasn’t supposed to; he stopped fidgeting with his wine glass and moved his hand towards Hallie, just up to the point where only one of his fingers was touching one of hers. She looked at him again with a sad smile.
“Two weeks before the wedding I had my bachelorette party. Nothing crazy, not in my state, just me and a few friends. My Mom had the idea of making it British themed, and we had this afternoon party with tea and crumpets, and little Union Flags on the tables, all very Victorian; all my friends loved it.” She ran a hand through her hair, undoing several strands of her already messy ponytail. “Dave and his friends went out, of course. To a… a strip club. Everybody knew they were going there, after all it was his bachelor party. They spent the night dancing with the girls there… and drinking.”
A light went off in Tom’s head. He saw the painful truth coming from afar, digging its way out of Hallie’s memories before showing its ugly face in the present.
“They waited until I woke up the next day, because they didn’t want me to get upset at five in the morning. I remember my parents coming to my room… it’s strange, the things one remembers. My Mom had a cup of tea in her hands, a porcelain cup with pink flowers painted on it. And Dad hadn’t shaved. He was such a proper gentleman, I knew something was wrong the moment I saw he hadn’t shaved. But I don’t remember which one of them said that there had been an accident, that Dave wasn’t coming to see me that morning… that Dave was dead.”
Tom had heard enough. He crossed the small distance between him and Hallie and held her hand, delicately. He looked at her face expecting tears, but her eyes were dry.
“I’m sure you loved him very much.”
“I was completely infatuated with him, and losing him was the worst thing that had happened in my life. Suddenly I was a college drop-out, alone, terrified of giving birth, afraid of raising a baby without a father… I think I managed to survive that year thanks to my parents. I don’t know what I’d have done without them.” She looked at Tom again, at his clear blue eyes and his worried gaze. “I’ve been awkward around men since then. We should have had this conversation before our date, Tom, and I’m so sorry I freaked out. I was so scared!”
“Of me finding out about Max?”
“Not only that. I already told you Max’s father was my first boyfriend. Then after him I had a small baby and of course I couldn’t go around dating. When Max was four my Dad got sick… when he died, I had to lend a hand in the family business and I didn’t have a lot of time for anything. And then I had the silly idea of going on Masterchef, and with all the fuss of the contest, the win, the promotion, the cookbook…”
“Yes?”
“Tom, what I’m trying to tell you is that you’re the first man I’ve dated in eight years. Which, counting Max’s father, makes you the second guy I’ve dated in my whole life.”
Tom froze for a moment, and then hid his face in his hands. “Oh, bollocks. I scared you.”
“Just a little.”
“I’m a sodding brute.”
“No! You were just… Enthusiastic, I guess. And I was too confused to tell you that I needed to go a little slower.”
He nodded in silence and wrapped his hand around hers. They sat like that for a moment, until a sudden noise coming from the kitchen made them jump.
“Do you think your mother’s listening?”
“Of course she’s listening! She’s been in there for fifteen minutes. How long does it take to make a cup of tea?” Hallie laughed. “Mom, please come out and stop eavesdropping!”
Lorraine came out of the kitchen, holding a nearly empty cup of tea and a sugar biscuit. “Well, did you fix it?” she asked, staring intently at Tom and Hallie.
“Yes, ma'am. All fixed.”
“Good. I was getting bored to death in there, but I didn’t want to interrupt your little conversation. And now that I’m sure there won’t be another World War in my living room, this old lady needs to go to bed.” She finished the biscuit, left the cup on the table and hugged her daughter. “Sleep well, cupcake. Goodnight, Chef Hiddleston.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Harrison. Pleased to meet you.”
After Lorraine left they both stood in the middle of the living room, too tired to say anything, until Tom reacted.
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but you’re going to fall asleep standing up.”
Hallie offered him a tired smile. “Well, it has been a tough day. For both of us.”
Tom threw his arms around her, enclosing her in a tight embrace. “As much as I like doing this, I really need to go and let you sleep. Or tomorrow we’ll fall asleep in the kitchen.”
“And Luke will scream at us.”
“Luke was very close to having an aneurysm this morning…” Tom observed. “I think I owe him an apology. And another one to you, for behaving like an arse all day. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine, Tom. I’m sorry too, for not being honest with you earlier. I promise, no more hiding things.”
“And I promise to take things slow. I’m also out of practice doing that, so we can find our ideal speed together”, he said with a wink.
“I like the sound of that”, Hallie answered. “I guess for tonight we can start with something small. Like… one kiss?”
“Only one, Chef Harrison? It will have to be one hell of a kiss.”
“That’s up to you, Chef Hiddleston. Remember that I’m a silly sorority girl with only one boyfriend on my record who knows absolutely nothing about these things.”
Tom entwined one of his hands in Hallie’s hair, slowly stroking her cheek with his thumb. She smelled like red wine and powdered sugar.
“You keep getting it wrong, Chef Harrison. Wrong in two counts.” His breath ghosted on her cheek, and she shivered. “Number one, you’re not a silly girl. I don’t think you’ve ever been a silly girl.”
He pulled her even closer to him and brushed his lips with hers, slowly, giving her space to respond. And she did, leaning eagerly into him and into the caress of his mouth.
“And… and number two?” she said, feebly, once the kiss was over.
“Well… I think your count of boyfriends has gone up. By one.”