Blood Rubies Read Online Free PDF

on the menu for a week—they’re selling well.” She lowered her voice, talking to us as friends. “I hope he finds a way to deal with his anger. He’s threatened to walk out if we don’t cancel our order, and I told him we weren’t canceling, and that if he wanted out, I wouldn’t try to convince him to stay. I’m not sure he believed me.”
    â€œWhat does Chef Ray say?”
    â€œThat we need him.” She raised her chin. Her eyes were as hard as iron, and unforgiving. “Everyone’s replaceable.”
    *   *   *
    After we’d finished our entrees. Suzanne stopped by our table. “How was dinner?”
    I made a yum-yum smacking noise. “Wonderful. As always.”
    â€œTerrific,” Ty said.
    I glanced at Heather and Jason. They’d moved to the dining room for dinner and were seated by a window, along with another couple, maybe Jason’s best friend, Chuck, and his wife, Sara. I was glad to see that Heather and Jason seemed calm and that although Jason’s smart phone sat on the table beside his knife, he wasn’t using it.
    â€œAny dessert tonight?” Suzanne asked.
    â€œI was telling Ty more about Ana’s cakes. I was filmed today for her pilot, by the way.”
    â€œYou’re in the show?” Suzanne clapped softly. “How was it?”
    â€œNerve-racking. Ana was amazing, though. Polished and warm and engaging.”
    â€œI saw her on Good Morning, New England last fall sometime. She demonstrated how to convert doughnut holes into cute little apple treats using a red glaze, green frosting for the leaves, and black licorice bits for the stems. She made baskets of them as favors for a kid’s party. I couldn’t take my eyes off her demonstration—and I don’t bake!”
    â€œEven just hearing about it from you,” I said, “I want to know how to do it. What a gift!”
    She laughed and drifted away to the next table. Ty and I decided to try one of Ana’s cakes. Ten seconds after our waiter disappeared into the kitchen, a plate shattered. I was about to say, “Oops,” when a man began yelling.
    â€œNo more!” he shouted.
    From his accent, I could tell it was Maurice.
    Ty’s brows shot up. “I’d say Maurice has anger issues.”
    â€œNarcissism. If I don’t get my way I’m going to scream and pound my fists and heels on the floor until you give in.”
    â€œAmazing seeing adults behave that way. You’d think someone would have corrected his behavior by the time he reached puberty.”
    â€œOr killed him,” I said.
    Suzanne mouthed, “Sorry,” as she hurried into the kitchen.
    A moment later, the same man’s voice yelled, “You should be ashamed. A cheap gimmick in a fine restaurant. And you want me to endorse it? Never!” A full minute of silence, then, “No. No. No.”
    â€œHe sounds crazed,” I whispered.
    Suzanne reappeared, smiling around the dining room. She approached our table. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. Your dessert will be right out, and of course, it’s on the house.”
    â€œIs everything all right?” I asked.
    She laughed without humor. “You know I don’t have children, right? My brother does, though, so I know all about time-outs. In this case, taking a breather is a practical solution to what really is a complex problem. Maurice is incredibly talented and dedicated—but he doesn’t play nicely with others.”
    We thanked her for comping the dessert, an unnecessary gesture, and she moved to the next table and repeated her apology.
    We’d selected a cake that featured a woodland scene, and it was delightful—trees and wildflowers and a moss-covered rock, a miniature forest filled with enchanting details sculpted out of frosting in about five inches of hollowed-out cake. Amazing.
    â€œLook at those violets,” I