Feeding Her, page 13
part #1 of LeClarks Series
“And then it turned itself on?” Kait shook her head. “I’m not being paranoid Gray. I know you think this is—” She clamped her mouth shut abruptly, remembering Landon was beside her. “Someone was in there,” she reiterated.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Gray insisted gently. “Why would they just turn on the coffee maker?”
No, it didn’t make sense. Just like it didn’t make sense five years ago when she’d come home from work to find just a single thing out of place. Nothing immediately noticeable, but a definitive statement. Someone was here.
But she couldn’t remind Gray of that in from of Landon. Kait looked miserably into her brother’s eyes, willing him to understand.
And whether he believed her or not, he did.
“We’ll talk to everyone who worked yesterday,” he said, squeezing her hand. “If none of them set up the coffee maker, we’ll install cameras. Step up the security system.”
“I’ll have them come out today,” Landon said, because he understood, too, even if she didn’t know it. “We should have cameras anyway.”
Whether she ever confided in him about Basil Hampton or not, he was going to make sure she never had to be afraid of him again.
Landon was as good as his word. The moment their second morning shift ended, the security company was at the door. They were an auspicious presence, hanging cameras as Gray praised the staff at the end-of-shift meeting. Then, before dismissing them, he asked about the coffee maker.
“It’s not a big deal if you did,” he said. “We obviously need to wait until the morning of to keep the grounds fresh, but if you prepped it last night, we just want to know.”
The staff shook their head, shrugging. Kait looked at them carefully, hoping to see a sign of guilt on one of their faces.
Antonio, their only hire from New York other than Ana, raised his hand. “If it’s not a big deal, boss, why do you want to know who did it?”
Gray hesitated. “No reason. I guess what I should say is, good initiative, but hold off from now on.”
Nodding, the staff dispersed.
As she and Landon walked out to the parking lot, Kait said tiredly, “I guess I should go home.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” he asked, guiding her toward his BMW.
“Because I’ve stayed with you the past two nights.”
“And that’s a problem?”
Kait jerked her shoulder. “You tell me.”
Landon stopped in front of the car and turned to face her. “It’s not a problem for me, Kait. If it’s a problem for you, say something.”
“No.” She gave him a small smile. “It’s not for me.”
“Good.” He opened her car door. “Because it would have been a problem for me if I had to sleep at that shit hole you call an apartment. But I’d have done it.”
The next day, Landon had his assistant pack up Kait’s clothes and kitchenware and deliver it to the condo. When she got home from LeClarks late that afternoon, she looked at her knives on the counter and then at him questioningly.
“You’re staying with me until you feel safe again,” he said, his voice making it clear that any protest would lead to an argument.
Kaitlyn considered protesting anyway on principle, but she was too grateful. She gave him a long, deep kiss. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He pulled her in for another, but Kait pushed away.
“I have to take a shower. I smell like the fryer.”
That night, after they’d exhausted each other and she was lying with her head on his chest, she asked the question she’d been wondering for weeks. “Why did you buy the LeClarks building?”
“Because if I hadn’t, they would have torn it down.”
“But why did you care?”
Landon looked down at her, his face unreadable in the twilight. “Do you really not know?”
“Because you loved my parents?”
Landon nodded. “Partly. But it’s more selfish than that.”
Kaitlyn twisted around to face him, sensing he was about to show her some deep private part of himself.
“LeClarks was the first place I ever felt a part of something.” Landon gazed over her head, unable to look down at her. “I was born into the James Investments empire, but it never felt like mine. It was Randolph’s, and he held it over my head my entire life. Any time I stepped out of line or didn’t live up to his expectations, he threatened to take it from me. And that scared the shit out of me, because if I didn’t take over James Investments, what the hell would I do? And then I met your family and found out.”
“You did want your own kitchen,” Kait whispered, gazing up into his shadowed face.
He shrugged. “Maybe. The point is, I saw something in my future other than James Investments, and that meant my father lost his control over me.”
“You could still have it,” Kaitlyn said. “A real one, not just that food factory, Rathskeller.”
Landon shook his head. “I like what I do. But you don’t.”
“What do you mean?” Kait liked working on cookbooks just fine. It was fun enough, and it kept her in the culinary world. She told him so, but he shook his head and finally looked down at her.
“They’re not your passion, Kait. I’ve seen your face when you’re working on them, and I’ve seen it when you’re at LeClarks. You want your own kitchen.”
“Sure, in a perfect world.” Kaitlyn’s mouth turned down as she couldn’t help thinking of Basil Hampton. “But I left the New York scene, and LeClarks is Gray’s baby.”
“You could start your own,” Landon suggested. He could picture it. A classy place in New York. Not Manhattan—it was too glitzy. Maybe Brooklyn. “Make LeClarks a chain.” He laughed at the face she made. “Not like Rathskeller.”
“It would have to be like a food truck.” Kait shook her head. “We won’t have that kind of capital for years yet.” Then, afraid he would think she was hinting for him to offer it, she hurried on. “Anyway, let’s get through opening night before we start thinking about another empire.”
Chapter Thirteen
To Kaitlyn’s relief, no other reports of suspected food poisoning reached them, and their opening night was an unqualified success. It seemed like half of New Canton turned out. People Kait hadn’t seen in years and barely recognized flagged her down to tell her how much they’d missed LeClarks when it left.
Even Martha James showed up with a small retinue of society women.
“Stalkers at Table 33,” Kaitlyn said to Landon because she didn’t know how else to tell him. He glanced out, and his face hardened.
“What is she doing here?”
Kait shrugged helplessly. “Maybe she wants to show her support. You are an investor, after all.”
Gray made sure that their strongest server took Martha’s table, and Landon delivered their drinks himself.
“I never thought I’d see you serving drinks, Landon!” One of Martha’s friends chirped up at him when he set the vodka tonic in front of her. “Is business that bad at Rathskeller?”
Landon raised his eyebrows at her, but that was nothing compared to the disdainful look that Martha shot across the table. “Janice, you ninny, he owns the restaurant.”
“Then why is he waiting tables?” Janice whispered back.
“For the tips,” Landon said and winked at her. Then, for the rest of their visit, he made sure to deliver drinks and food to all the surrounding tables. The servers didn’t need the help, but he enjoyed the rictus smile Martha adopted every time she saw him with an armful of platters.
She waited for him in the lobby after the others left. Sighing, Landon made his way to her.
“How was your nicoise?” he asked, referencing the salad she’d ordered as her entree.
“Survivable. However, this night has been humiliating,” she said crisply. “Please tell me you’re done with this nonsense now.”
Landon pasted a pleasant smile on his face for the benefit of anyone watching. “Not even close, I’m afraid.”
“If your father were alive to see this…”
“But he isn’t,” Landon said bluntly. “Randolph is gone. LeClarks is back. And so am I, for a little while anyway.”
Martha pursed her lips. “This has to do with the LeClarks, doesn’t it? Are you involved with the girl, Kaitlyn?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“No,” Martha agreed. “I hardly care who you sleep with. But just remember that you can’t marry her.”
“That’s none of your business either, Martha. Now, can I call your car, or is it already on the way?”
“It’s here, madame,” Gilles said from a respectfully discrete distance. “It’s ready when you are.”
Landon took the Alexander McQueen shell cape trench from Gilles and helped Martha into it. She buttoned it, despite the balmy night air waiting for her, and as she pulled the belt tightly around her waist, she looked up at Landon. “You are my business, my son. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you.”
They were the words of a loving mother, but the tone was wrong, and the expression in her eyes was off. Landon stared down at her, caught off guard. “I don’t need your protection, Martha. I’ve never needed it.”
And it was a good thing too because she’d never offered it.
“Nonetheless, you have it.”
The words were pronounced like a curse, and without a backward glance, she walked out of the restaurant.
Shit, Landon thought, watching her go. What’s she going to do now?
Kaitlyn had lost count of how many sodas she’d downed throughout the night. She knew for a fact that she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol though, and that this giddy, drunken feeling was entirely attributable to how brilliantly their first night had gone.
After Gray had cashed out the last server, she threw her arms around him in a fierce hug. “We did it!”
He laughed and gave her a quick squeeze back. “We had a good night,” he agreed.
“Where’s our not-so-silent partner?” Kaitlyn rose up on her toes and looked around the kitchen. Landon was nowhere to be seen. “Is he doing dishes?” That was the only room not easily visible from the center of the kitchen.
“No, he had to duck out early. He said he’d call you.” Gray shot her a look. “Is there a reason he’s calling?”
“I’m sure there is, my nosy brother.” Kaitlyn flicked him on the cheek and spun away to find her purse. He’d probably texted or left a message by now. She’d grab a bottle of wine from behind the bar and meet him at the condo. But when she checked, her cracked screen only showed text notifications from Marjorie and a missed call from a New York City number she didn’t recognize.
Feeling strangely let down despite the success of the night, she drove home to the two-bedroom apartment she hadn’t been to in over a week. It wasn’t like she couldn’t use some time for herself—her blog had been woefully neglected in the last week, and the LeClarks cookbook was falling behind her self imposed deadlines. She’d just thought—
“Stop it,” Kaitlyn said aloud when she had locked the apartment door behind her and was settled on the couch. She wasn’t sure which voice in her head she was talking to, the one that was shaking its head disapprovingly and saying I told you so, or the one that was encouraging her to go over anyway because of course he wanted to see her.
Either way, she didn’t have time to see him.
She logged onto her blog first and wrote about the success of their first night. Marjorie had sent her a file of action shots that dated back from when the restaurant still looked like Baratellis to their soft opening earlier in the week. She wished Marjorie could have stayed for tonight, but her new project in the city called her back.
When she was nearly done, a pair of bright headlights illuminated the window that faced the parking lot. Kait looked up hopefully at the slam of the car door and put aside her laptop when the footsteps stopped at her front door. She waited expectantly for Landon’s familiar knock, but none came.
For a few seconds, she convinced herself that wasn’t strange. He was finishing up a text or an email. Any second now…
But the seconds stretched out, turned into a minute, and then another. With numb hands, Kaitlyn reached for her computer again and settled it on her lap. It wasn’t Landon. It was someone else, and that person already walked by. You just didn’t hear him, she tried to tell herself through the jumble in her head. He’s already in his apartment. No one is outside your door.
Kaitlyn published her post without proofreading it and moved over to the cookbook file. Her heart rate had just begun to slow when suddenly, she heard the footsteps again. They started at her front door, stopped when a car door slammed, and then the headlights filled her window again.
Kaitlyn held her breath until she heard the car reverse out of the spot and pull into traffic. Someone had been standing outside her door, but why? Had it been Landon? Was he leaving her a note instead of texting for some reason? Surely he’d seen that her lamp was on—why hadn’t he just come in?
After two full minutes of staring at the window, her breath coming in shallow gasps, she gathered her frayed nerves and got off the couch. She looked through the peephole first, then out of the curtains. She didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean—
No, Kaitlyn told herself firmly. He’s gone.
Unless he parked on the other side and walked back around and is just waiting for me to open the door.
Kaitlyn crept back to the couch and grabbed her phone. She dialed 91, then with her finger poised over the second ‘1’, jerked open the door. Her eyes twitched left then right, ensuring that no one had pressed themselves up against the brick wall. Then she frowned into the parking lot. It was well lit, and there weren’t many cars in it tonight. Nowhere close by for anyone to hide. Some of her fear subsiding, she stepped out onto the front stoop and looked around for something to explain the mysterious person’s presence.
For a moment, she thought there was nothing. Then she spotted the manilla envelope propped up against the brick wall beside her door. She hesitated.
It’s just an envelope, Kait. It can’t hurt you.
Unless it’s anthrax.
Ignoring the second voice, Kait seized it between her fingers then backed into her apartment and slammed the door.
“Just a routine delivery,” she said aloud. “He was probably making sure he was at the right address.”
But the front of the envelope was blank.
And it’s the middle of the night.
Before she could spook herself any further, Kaitlyn ripped it open and shook out the contents onto the coffee table.
It was two newspaper articles and a note. One brand new and cut from the New York Post, and the other was a print off from the New Canton Times dated fifteen years prior. The note, written on lined paper in cramped handwriting, said: Notice any similarities?
In the elevator of the Atlantia condo building, Kaitlyn nearly pressed the wrong button. Hastily, she dragged her finger from the 8 to the 6. Landon was the last person she wanted to see right now.
It took Gray a while to come to the door, though she’d called and texted him that she was on her way over. When he finally opened the door, his eyes were half closed, and the condo was completely dark.
“What the hell, Kait?” He said, his voice still froggy with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
Pushing past him, Kait flipped on the lights and handed him the envelope. “This is what’s wrong.”
She watched Gray’s face as he read the headlines she knew by heart.
Local Landmark Plagued by Scandal
Did a Billionaire Sabotage 1358?
“This is about LeClarks,” Gray said slowly, skimming the first. He looked at the other, then up at her for an explanation.
“And that one is about Basil Hampton’s restaurant,” Kaitlyn said tightly.
Gray mouth hardened as he read it then the note. “Notice any similarities?”
“Landon is the similarity,” Kaitlyn said and jabbed at the headline. “He’s the billionaire Page Six thinks is behind the closing of Basil Hampton’s restaurant. Look at all the things he’s accused of doing. Getting his friends to spread rumors, raising the rent. What does that sound like?”
“It sounds like what happened to LeClarks,” Gray admitted. “But how do you know he’s the billionaire they’re talking about?”
Silently, Kaitlyn pointed to a bolded name.
Simone Dexter
“Simone is married?” Gray said, surprised. “To an actress? I thought—”
“So did I,” Kaitlyn said impatiently. “It doesn’t matter though. The point is, Landon has to be behind it. See where they mentioned Rathskeller at the bottom?”
Gray skimmed down. “‘I smell a rat’ might not mean Rathskeller,” he said unconvincingly. He looked through the pages again. “Where did you get this anyway?”
Kaitlyn shivered as she told him about the stranger who had stood silently at her door for so long, and Gray’s forehead creased with concern. “We need to switch again, Kait. You’ll be safe here if they come back.”
“I’m not staying here!” Kaitlyn looked around at the opulence in revulsion. “This is the last place I feel safe. Don’t you get it, Gray? Landon did to 1358 exactly what Randolph did to LeClarks. He’s his father’s son, through and through.”
“But why?” Gray asked logically. “And how does he even know Basil Hampton? Did you tell him?”
“I haven’t said a word to him, so this has nothing to do with me. I’m sure they run in similar circles in New York, and Basil must have pissed him off.”
“Let’s talk to him in the morning.” Gray put the papers back in the envelope and set it on the dining room table. “He deserves a chance to explain, doesn’t he?”
“No,” Kaitlyn said through her teeth. “I was right about him all along. We should have never let him get so close.”
