Melting Ms Frost

Chapter Four

FOUR

Annabel was beyond relieved to find the bar area devoid of antagonistic Irish libertines when she arrived at Cluny’s the next day, much later than usual and failing to convince herself that her tardiness had anything to do with avoidance tactics.

Aidan Flynn was a problem. A big one that needed sorting ASAP.

Having generously given him the benefit of the doubt the previous evening, she’d ended up getting her efforts flung back in her face without a hint of remorse. The man was intolerable. An immoral maverick who should never have been employed – certainly wouldn’t have been employed if she’d been given her usual say in matters. If only Richard Landon hadn’t chosen to act without consulting her, she wouldn’t now be the one left to pay the price for somebody else’s rushed mistake.

To add insult to injury, she wasn’t even allowed the satis­faction of kicking Mr Flynn’s degenerate arse straight back into whatever gutter he’d crawled from. Instead she was legally obligated to follow a strict set of steps aimed at protecting his rights even though it was obvious he wasn’t interested in listening or conforming to the accepted rules.

Well to hell with waiting until he had exhausted each and every one of his statutory rights as he seemed to be intent on doing. She wanted him gone. Sooner, rather than later. Fortunately, tonight was the night that Richard Landon was due to host a pre-Christmas dinner for a table full of friends as he did every year, and although he’d made it clear that these occasions were for pleasure, never business, Annabel wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to lodge a quiet complaint in his ear. He was a shrewd businessman who understood that his restaurant had a public reputation to uphold. She was sure he’d be horrified to learn that he’d hired such an objectionable individual, a man who didn’t seem to respect authority or care less about the consequences of his questionable actions. If she was lucky, she’d be able to get him to agree to Aidan Flynn’s instant suspension while the attendant formalities were dealt with.

Pushing through the door into the kitchens, she barely registered the sudden exaggerated burst of activity from the full complement of staff already present – a sight that would normally have filled her with satisfaction but today just highlighted the extent of her distraction as she passed through with barely a glance to either side.

Shit. She couldn’t afford such lack of focus. Tonight of all nights. Familiar with her boss’ exacting expectations, she really should be busy cracking her whip to ensure that every last detail of the evening’s food and service was beyond reproach.

Shoving through the fire door leading to the staff facilities and office, she strode down the short corridor pulling off her overcoat and determining to get her head back in the game. All she needed to do was play it cool, get through the next few hours and then this whole nasty episode would be behind—

Annabel froze in the act of swinging open the office door, her grip tightening on the handle as she noticed that the internal door leading to the cellar was ajar. Her gaze flicked instantly to the filing cabinet beside her desk, where the drawer containing the spare set of keys sat open. Obvious sounds of movement and a stream of appreciative, softly-accented mutterings floated up the stairs from the room below.

Bloody, bloody man! What did he think he was up to now? Her simmering resentment flashed to a hot, fast boil. Leaving the door to swing closed behind her, she marched across the small room, pausing at the top of the stairs.

‘What the hell are you doing down there?’

‘Annabel?’ came a cheery reply. ‘Hello. I was thinking maybe you weren’t coming in today.’