in her heels, literally and otherwise, Lily looked down at her suit. “This isn’t good enough for your friends?”
Alison exchanged looks with Luc. Lily was missing the point. “Nope, it’s too good.” She saw her sister raise a confused brow. “We like our comfort here in Hades. The byword is casual.”
She worked seven days a week at a clip, and dressed the part of a restaurant owner. Casual didn’t exist in her closet.
“Maybe I should have worn a torn pair of jeans,” she said sarcastically.
Luc nodded. “Maybe.”
She flushed, hoping she hadn’t insulted him. She genuinely liked her sister’s husband and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But she didn’t want to mingle with a bunch of sex-starved miners and lumberjacks, either. That wasn’t why she’d come.
She tried to present her case to Luc. “Look, all I want is a quiet evening with my brother and sister and their spouses.”
Knowing that Luc had the heart of a lovable puppy when confronted with a damsel in distress, Alison decided to take over. She tugged on her sister’s hand. “This’ll be fun, Lily. Trust me.”
But Lily wasn’t going to be outmaneuvered. “If it’s all the same to you—”
“Say, Lily,” Jean Luc began genially, moving to her other side. “Since we are throwing this party tonight at the Salty, maybe you could help me out?”
Suspicion padded over on light cat paws. Lily raised one eyebrow. “How?”
“Well, I was thinking of making spareribs for tonight’s menu—” He looked as if he was struggling with the thought. “But, you know, that hasn’t been moving very well lately. Used to be a real crowd pleaser, but not anymore.” He looked to her for help. “I think everyone’s gotten bored with it.”
In Lily’s experience, nothing should remain on a menu indefinitely. And she had a pretty good idea that nothing on Ike and Jean Luc’s menu had changed for the last quarter of a century. Maybe longer.
“You’re probably right. You’ve got to spice things up, never let yourself get predictable. Menus have to change and, even if they remain the same for a while, you change the ingredients. Customers like that. The same, but different.” Her whole demeanor changed. This was her realm and she stepped into it gladly. “What kind of sauce have you been using?”
Luc looked at her innocently. “I’m not sure. Something Ike whipped up.”
She nodded. Klondyke LeBlanc was the driving force behind the partnership. Luc had told her that it was Ike’s vision that had gotten them rolling to begin with, but she had a feeling that the vision was severely limited when it came to things such as food.
“Something with ketchup, water and tomato paste, no doubt,” she said under her breath. “What time is this party?”
There was a sparkle in Lily’s eyes. Luc suppressed his smile. “Eight.”
Lily looked at her watch. “Eight?” That only gave them five hours to get ready. “What are you standing around here for? We need to get started.” Ignoring Alison and Jimmy, she was already hustling Luc toward the front door. “How many people are you expecting?”
He gave her an honest answer. “Hard to say. Probably most of the town’ll show up at one point or other.” All the people of Hades had to hear was the word “party” and they turned out in force.
Lily paused. She was vaguely aware of the fact that the population hovered around five hundred. Doing a quick calculation in her head, she began rattling off ingredients and quantities at him as she tugged him toward the front door again.
Alison knew what Lily could be like once she got going. There was no such thing as “half measure” with her sister. “Wait, Lily, we didn’t invite you here to work.”
“This isn’t work,” Luc told her innocently. “This is pitching in, right, Lily?”
Lost in the list she was making up in her head, Lily hadn’t even heard the question or her sister’s protest. “We’re wasting time, Luc. I’m going to need an extra set of hands to peel onions.”
“Why don’t you go on ahead to the car? I’ll be right there,” he promised, pausing by the door.
Alison crossed to him and rose on her toes. “And here I thought you didn’t have a devious bone in your body.” She brushed a kiss against his lips. “Nice going, Svengali.”
He grinned and winked. “I thought so.” Then, for good measure, he cupped the back of his wife’s head and kissed her in a way that aroused them both.
“Be careful she doesn’t work you to death. She can be rough when she gets going,” Jimmy warned him. “I’m talking about Lily this time,” he added, smirking at Alison.
“Don’t worry,” Luc answered. “I live with Alison. I know what I’m up against.”
With a huff, Alison turned on her heel to find something suitable for her sister to wear tonight. She knew she would have to bring it to the Salty because once Lily got going in the kitchen, only dynamite would dislodge her.
Lily paused. It had to be a hundred and ten degrees in here, she thought, pointing her face toward the small oscillating fan on the wall. Alison had arrived at the Salty a few minutes after she and Luc had forced her to change into a T-shirt and jeans—Alison’s since she hadn’t packed any. Luckily, they were the same size.
Her own curves were a little rounder than her sister’s, so the fit was tight, but sufficient. She knew she would have completely melted if she’d remained in this kitchen wearing the outfit she’d arrived in.
The tight fit chafed now, but she hadn’t been thinking about clothes when she allowed herself to be momentarily sidetracked and redressed. She was thinking about the temperature beneath the huge pot of sauce she was simmering.
The instant she’d walked into the small space that Ike and Luc laughingly called a kitchen, she had commandeered it with the aplomb of not an invading soldier, but a conquering one. The part-time cook that the Salty employed, Isaac, was relegated to finding and preparing vegetables and collecting the various ingredients that Lily just couldn’t work without.
The sauce, complete with submerged spareribs, had been simmering for well on to three hours now.
“Here’s black pepper,” Isaac offered after what had been a prolonged search.
She looked at the small man in mounting exasperation. She’d already learned that the only three ingredients he was aware of were salt, salt and more salt.
“I said cayenne pepper, not black. What is it about the word ‘cayenne’ you don’t understand?”
“Maybe he doesn’t know what cayenne pepper is,” Max suggested, amused. He’d been watching her for the last few minutes. The women was a whirlwind in action.
“Then he should learn or he has no business cooking,” she snapped.
Hot and sweaty, ready to sink her teeth into a meaty
