She stared at the men all working hard—chopping, blanching, prepping. The tallest of the group walked toward him. The embroidered name on his white jacket identified him as the executive chef.

“Park, this is Dani Buchanan. She’s interviewing for the manager job.”

Park turned to face her, then bowed slightly. But he didn’t speak.

Dani had worked with enough brilliant chefs to expect attitude, opinion and a volume that would shatter the eardrums of the uninitiated.

“Hi,” she said brightly. “I loved the sample menu. This is one place where making recommendations would be easy.”

Nothing about Park’s handsome face changed. He blinked slowly.

Before she could figure out what else to say, there was a loud clang in the back of the kitchen as two metal bowls fell into a metal sink. Jim immediately turned and spoke harshly in a language Dani didn’t understand. Everyone froze in midmotion, even Park.

Jim turned back to her and shrugged. “Gotta keep the boys in line.”

“Sure,” she said, trying to smile and failing. There was something seriously wrong in this kitchen. It was too organized, too quiet, too perfect. Where was the controlled chaos of creativity?

Jim led her back to his large office and motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“I believe in keeping on plenty of wait staff,” he said. “I might be willing to keep my customers waiting for a table, but once they’re seated, everything flows smoothly. You’ll like the crew. They work hard, they’re on time, they’re perfect at their jobs, or they’re fired.”

Perfect? Who could guarantee perfection on a regular basis?

“Do you have a lot of turnover?” she asked.

“It takes a while to get the right person, but once we find a server who works, they stay a long time. The money’s great.”

Based on the number of reservations they had each night and the crowd that might or might not get seated, Dani could believe that.

The restaurant had everything going for it—great location, better food, cachet and five-star service. There was only one six-foot problem.

Jim talked more about the restaurant, his vision, expectations and the need to be on time, work long hours and give a hundred percent every day.

Dani listened carefully even as she tried to figure out why she had a knot in her stomach.

“I like you,” Jim said unexpectedly. “I know your grandmother. Not well, but I know enough to understand if you rose to manage one of her restaurants, you’ve got the right stuff and you’re not afraid of hard work. To be honest, I’ve been looking for the right manager for a long time. I think you’re her. Let me write you up an offer and then we can talk again.”

Dani blinked. “You’re kidding?”

Jim grinned. “I know you’re excited.”

He kept talking, but she wasn’t listening. Excited didn’t exactly describe the knot in her stomach.

This was a great opportunity. Sure, Jim might be difficult, but no one could be as bad as Gloria and she’d survived her.

So why wasn’t she more thrilled? Was she really getting a bad feeling or was she falling into self-sabotage? Did she secretly believe Gloria’s claim that she just didn’t have what it took and could never make it on her own?

LORI WALKED INTO the kitchen and found Sandy already there.

“You’re early,” she said.

Sandy poured herself a cup of coffee. “I know what it’s like to be tired after a long day. Of course, I’m just waking up.”

Sandy smiled at her and Lori realized she’d really started to like the other nurse. Lori considered the fact that she didn’t hold Sandy’s full-blown beauty against her a sign of a mature character.

Sandy waved the coffeepot at Lori who shook her head. “Not if I want to sleep tonight.”

“I know. I get hyped up on coffee and then I don’t fall asleep until nine or ten in the morning. My body clock is totally screwed up. Speaking of screwed, did you see those twins on CNN?”

Lori shook her head. “What twins?”

“Bimbos. Former centerfolds. It was awful. They’ve written some stupid self-help book so us lesser mortals can learn to be as sexy as them. Can you imagine?”

Lori didn’t know what to say. If tall, busty, gorgeous Sandy considered herself a lesser mortal, what did that make Lori? A mutant?

“They were on CNN talking about their book?”

“Uh-huh. That part was bad enough, but then the stupid reporter brought up Reid. Of course they had to dump on him and say he was lousy in bed.”

Sandy pressed her lips together. “It’s that damn newspaper article. Kristie and I were talking about it a couple of nights ago. The thing is, it’s so unfair.” She smiled, as if remembering something amazing. “I had absolutely no complaints about my close encounter with Reid and neither did Kristie. It was everything we wanted it to be.”

She sighed. “Of course I was a fan and, I confess, just a little slutty at my interview. I threw myself at him. Not that he said no.”

Lori couldn’t think. Her mind went totally blank, which was probably for the best. Otherwise she might have exploded.

“You slept with him during your interview for this job?”

Sandy nodded. “Kristie, too. It was fun. That big desk in his office at the sports bar. Yum. I…” She stopped and stared at Lori. “Are you okay?”

No, she wasn’t okay. She was furious. Not with Reid, but with herself. For being stupid enough to think he was a real person. He wasn’t. He was just a shallow, disgusting pretend human being.

“I’m fine,” she said from between clenched teeth.

Sandy grimaced. “Oh, God. I just put my foot in it, didn’t I? I thought you’d slept with him, too.”

“No,” Lori said grimly. “I didn’t.”

Apparently she could form a club of women who hadn’t slept with Reid Buchanan. It would have a membership of one.

CHAPTER SIX

LORI WORKED HER WAY through Gloria’s morning exercises and did her best to disconnect from the usual complaints.

“That hurts,” Gloria said. “Stop immediately.”

“We’re not working the side your broken hip is on,” Lori reminded her. “We need to keep you flexible.”

“As I’m unlikely to join the Seattle ballet anytime soon, this level of flexibility is not required.”

“Flexibility will help with your stability. When your hip heals, you’ll still be worried about falling. That will make you cautious. Knowing you’re flexible and can bend in all sorts of directions will help with your confidence.”

Gloria grunted and cooperated with the stretching for a few more seconds, then pushed Lori away.

“That’s enough,” she snapped. “I’m not paying you to torture me.”

Lori hadn’t slept well the night before. She had no one to blame but herself, which she hated. In truth she’d lain in bed, seething about Sandy’s casual confession.

Lori had been offended on so many levels, but somewhere around four in the morning, she’d finally admitted, if only to herself, that her real pain came from the fact that Reid had never wanted her that way and he never would.

None of which was Gloria’s fault, but it did mean her level of patience was lower than usual.

“You’re paying me to help get you better,” Lori said. “That’s what I’m doing.”

Gloria frowned at her. “The key is that I’m paying you. I expect professional behavior, not sadistic enjoyment of my pain.”

Lori gasped at the unfairness of the accusation. “Excuse me? What sadistic enjoyment? I go out of my way every single day to make your life more comfortable. Who got you to order the movies you’re enjoying? Who ran out in the rain to get you Cookies and Cream ice cream two days ago when you had a craving? Who keeps your room bright, changes the flowers, gets you books and magazines and gives a damn about you getting back on your feet?”

“I have told you not to swear around me. I won’t tolerate it. If you’re going to persist in that kind of behavior, I’ll fire you.”

“That threat is getting old.”

“So is your incompetence.”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was the fact that Reid wanted every woman on the planet but her. Maybe it was that she’d reached her threshold. Whatever the reason, she finally snapped.

“I’ve had it,” she told Gloria, her voice low. “I have busted my ass for you. Yes, I said ass. Live with it. When I took this job, everyone told me you were a total bitch and impossible to deal with. But I didn’t believe them. The staff at the rehab facility warned me about you, said you were awful and ungrateful, but I didn’t listen. I defended you over and over again. Imagine how I feel now that I find out they were telling the truth. You’re all the things they said. It’s no wonder your grandchildren avoid you. I sure wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t getting paid a whole lot of money. So here’s the question. What on earth is wrong with you? Why do you act like this?”

Lori had never spoken that way to a patient before, although if anyone deserved it, Gloria did. Still, she braced herself for the scathing tirade that would end her time in this house.

But Gloria didn’t say anything. Instead the old woman stared at her for several seconds, then stunned Lori by bursting into tears.

Lori stared at her for a couple of seconds, not sure if she should move closer or run for cover. But there was something broken and sad about Gloria’s tears. Something that made her move next to the bed, and then gently, carefully, sit on the mattress.

She reached for the older woman and slowly put her arms around her. Gloria clung to her, still crying, her body shaking.

“I d-didn’t mean for this to happen,” Gloria said between sobs. “I don’t know what h-happened. I was always difficult and demanding, but now I’m horrible. I hear the things I say and I can’t believe that’s me talking. I never meant to become so awful. Something happened. This isn’t me and it’s not my fault. Nobody loves me. No one has ever loved me. I’m alone and I’m going to die alone.”

Lori sucked in a breath. She felt like slime for having attacked Gloria, yet she sensed this might be an important moment in the old woman’s life. She suspected that Gloria didn’t allow herself much emotional vulnerability or weakness, so how best to handle the opportunity?

She considered several possibilities, then decided to go for the truth. She waited until the tears subsided, sat up, handed Gloria a box of tissues, then cleared her throat.

“You’re right,” she said clearly, refusing to be sucked in by the still flowing tears. “You are going to die alone.”

Gloria’s eyes widened. “It’s not true,” she whispered.

“It is true,” Lori told her. “Look at how you act. Who would want to care about you? You’re dismissive of people’s feelings. You don’t seem to ever do anything nice. You’re mean and self-centered.” She lowered her voice and touched the other woman’s arm. “But you can change.”

Gloria shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”

“You can and you do know how. You don’t want to—there’s a difference. You’re many things, but you’re not stupid. You remember what it’s like to be human.”

Her patient stared at her. “No, I don’t. Besides, what’s the point? You’re saying I should be nice to people. To care about them. But then they just take advantage of me. Besides, there are so many idiots in the world.”

“There’s an attitude designed to make you friends.”

“I don’t want friends.”

“Really? Then what was the water works about? Come on, no one wants to be totally isolated. Everyone wants a sense of belonging. You’re old—you’ll be dead soon. Don’t you want to be missed?”

Gloria opened her mouth, then closed it. “I will not be dead soon.”

“You will if you don’t get off your bony ass and focus on getting better.”

Lori braced herself for the screaming, or at the very least another threat of firing. Instead tears filled Gloria’s eyes again.

“I don’t want to die alone,” she whispered. “I don’t want them to hate me. I want them to love me.”

Lori hugged her again. “I know you do. The best way to get love is to act loving.”

Gloria didn’t answer. Instead she held on tight for a long time before leaning back against her pillows. She wiped her face, then said, “According to you, I shouldn’t worry about being taken advantage of. I won’t be around long enough to mind.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but if it works for you, go for it.”

“Do you really think I can change?”

“If you want your life to be different. It’s entirely up to you. You have the power to do whatever you want. Does this really matter? Do you want your grandchildren to love you and miss you when you’re gone?”

The old woman nodded slowly. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”

AN HOUR LATER Gloria was sleeping and Lori escaped to the living room to regroup. She felt as if she’d been run over by a train.

Had she done the right thing, pushing Gloria? Would the emotional upset impact the healing process? But if Gloria did manage to change enough to reconnect with her family, wasn’t that a good thing?

Lori stood in front of the massive window that overlooked the city and Puget Sound beyond. It was a rare clear day, with the sky a color of blue that God grants only after weeks of rain.