Wife With Amnesia by Metsy Hingle Read Free Book Online Page B

been an aura of command about him, an innate power in the way he carried himself, in the way the hospital staff had responded to him that had made her suspect he was wealthy. Only, now she realized that he was probably a great deal more wealthy than she had initially suspected. Which was what bothered her. How on earth did a manof Matt’s obvious means and family background wind up married to a woman without both?
    â€œHere you go,” Matt said as he returned to the deck. He placed a tray containing a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses on the table. “Dinner should be ready in just a few minutes. Looks like Emma fixed one of your favorites—shrimp casserole.”
    â€œThank you,” she said, taking the glass of tea he offered, but her thoughts remained fixed on these new questions about herself, about the type of woman she was.
    â€œDo you need some more lemon?”
    Claire blinked. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
    â€œYou were frowning, and I thought maybe I didn’t bring you enough lemon wedges for the tea.”
    Claire looked down at the three lemon slices in the glass she was holding and realized she hadn’t even been aware of adding the lemons or of actually tasting the tea. “No, it’s fine,” she told him and took another sip to be sure.
    â€œSo, why the long face?”
    â€œI was wondering about us,” she admitted. “Matt, how did we meet?”
    â€œOver a piece of smuggled cheesecake.”
    Claire eyed him skeptically. “Smuggled cheesecake?”
    â€œI swear, it’s true,” he said, laughing. “Gallagher’s On The Avenue had lost their pastry chef, and you were trying to expand your wholesale pastry business—”
    â€œI have a pastry business?”
    â€œSure do. Desserts Only. You produce some of the best pastries in the city to some of the top restaurants. And since I’ve got this big sweet tooth, the moment I discovered you were not only beautiful and smart, but could bake, too, I knew I had to marry you,” he said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
    â€œIs that right?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” he told her.
    â€œWe’ll definitely get back to that in a moment,” she promised, but her eagerness to hear about her and Matt’s first meeting outweighed this newest piece to the puzzle of who she was. “Go on. Tell me how we met. You were saying that you needed a pastry chef…”
    â€œThat’s right. Evidently you’d been trying for more than a week to get an appointment to see me so you could pitch the idea of letting your company supply the dessert items to the restaurant instead of hiring a new chef. But you kept hitting a brick wall because my assistant wouldn’t give you an appointment.”
    â€œBut I finally managed to get one?”
    â€œNo. Callie knew I would have had her head. I wasn’t interested in a supplier. I wanted a pastry chef.”
    â€œThen how—”
    â€œYou bribed one of the valets to let you know when I was at the restaurant. Then you came over and bluffed your way into the kitchen by saying you were a food inspector and demanded to see me.”
    â€œWhat happened?” she asked, both surprised and curious about this aggressive person Matt described.
    â€œYou confessed who you really were and said that if I was half as good a businessman as people said I was that I would at least listen to what you had to say. I listened, but I wasn’t interested in having a company supply the desserts to Gallagher’s. I offered to hire you as the pastry chef.”
    â€œObviously, I didn’t take the job.”
    He grinned. “You turned me down flat, then challenged me to at least taste your white chocolate cheesecake. If I didn’t agree that it was better than anything that came out of the restaurant before, you would workin the restaurant as my pastry chef free of charge for one full month