Happy Ever After

Chapter 1

The kitchen at La Moda in Manhattan's theater district was a madhouse and Alana Miles couldn't imagine it any other way.

To an outsider, the rushed movement of the line cooks, busboys and wait staff would have seemed frantic. To those that manned the assembly-like stations, it was a carefully orchestrated ballet. Fish was garnished, meat seared, pasta tossed and chicken sliced thinly and quickly by expert hands as the expeditor called out tickets in rapid formation before the servers collected the orders ready to go. Chef Massimo, a large Italian with a larger voice, barked orders, compliments and insults depending on his mood.

Alana was aware of the drama on the other side of the kitchen, but ignored it. Her blue eyes focused, hands moving in precision as she finished layering the cake. Dinner service was kicking off, which meant another thirty minutes at least before anyone ordered her Belgian-style chocolate pecan tart with raspberry compote or the luscious fudge crème glacée with coconut infusion. The standard staples didn't worry her. She could have prepared those in her sleep, blindfolded. Sometimes, on busy nights it felt like she had done just that. Her life was an endless round of crème anglais, crème brûlée, and spiced hazelnut torte.

Her hands were bare, but for the palette knife she wielded with experience. She had long fingers that could have played the piano, but were more often than not caked with dough and batter. Her chef whites were streaked liberally with chocolate sauce; her black chef hat hid the strawberry stains from when she had pushed it back.

Anyone who saw her face would think she was cool under pressure. Inside, she was bursting with nerves; her mind racing, her heart pounding. Her feet were clad in comfortable flats, but still hurt from standing all day. Once this was over, she promised herself, the most strenuous thing she would do was pour a glass of Pouilly-Fumé, prop her feet on her condo's balcony and watch the city lights below.

She added the last strawberry rosette dipped in molten chocolate and stepped back. Her mind refocused as she flexed her cramped fingers and rolled her shoulders. The din of the kitchen and the dining room beyond tuned in. She watched her co-workers, her second family, moving like dancers across the busy stage. It was unnerving to think that this was the last time they would share service together.

She felt butterflies rise in her stomach, fluttering until she felt queasy with nerves. It was the biggest step of her career, venturing outside the restaurant that had been her world since she finished her training. This step was scarier than the one she had taken flying all the way to Paris with a single suitcase and smattering of French. Bigger than leaving home and all she knew to make her mark as a pastry chef.

Whether she soared or fell flat on her face, at least it'd be her risk to take, and she couldn't wait to get started.

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Matthew Delaney thought he'd died and gone to heaven. One taste of his dessert was enough to make him think he heard angels singing rather than chatter from the five business associates he was currently dining with. But then when it came to Alana he expected nothing less.

He focused on the conversation taking place around him knowing he had already broken Delaney's Rule Number One: never get distracted at a business meeting, especially one that included a multimillion dollar takeover. In the world of high finance, he was renowned for his methodical approach, high attention to detail, single-minded focus and inability to be distracted from the end game.

It was the same single-mindedness with which he had sailed the race from Hobart to Sydney, climbed Mount Kilimanjaro and broken the speed record for a Formula One prototype. And with which he had loved Alana Miles until he thought he would die when he wasn't with her.