Jennifer L. Hart - Southern Pasta Shop 02 - Murder À La Flambé by Jennifer L. Hart Page A

business."
    "Okay." I drew the word out. "Not sure where you're going with this."
    He took a deep breath and looked me square in the eye. "She's here investigating you."
    My eyes went round, and I squeaked, "Me?"
    "Flavor TV hired her to dig into your background after I quit."
    I sucked in a sharp breath. "I can't believe they're still coming after me."
    Jones shook his head. "They aren't. After the network declared bankruptcy, they had to get rid of her."
    "But you said she was here investigating me. If not Flavor TV, then who is she working for?"
    Jones shook his head. "She wouldn't tell me. Whoever it is has to have money though. Rochelle doesn't come cheap."
    Frickin' chicken fricassee. "I thought this was all over."
    Jones's intense blue eyes were steady, his expression grim as he murmured, "There's more."
    I didn't like the sound of that. "She found something?" I guessed.
    Jones didn't say anything, but his gaze moved to the pasta bar, where Kaylee was stacking plates.
    I swore long and low under my breath. "Oh no. Please tell me this is a joke."
    "I'm sorry," he said, putting a hand over mine.
    I snatched my hand away, setting it back. "How long have you known?"
    A muscle jumped in his jaw. "A week."
    "A week ?" My heart shriveled up and descended down to the vicinity of my naval. "And you didn't bother to tell me what was going on?"
    His gaze pleaded with me for understanding. "Andrea, I was trying to stop it."
    My gaze landed on the roses. He did indeed screw up. Epically, colossally, monumentally. There weren't enough adverbs in the English language to weigh how badly he'd screwed up. If it had been just about me, I could have taken it.
    But Kaylee…
    A fierce wave of protectiveness washed through me, powerful and all-consuming. "I finally had a moment with her, Jones. A solid bonding moment. But if news gets spread around town about who she is and what she's doing here, it will ruin everything . I can't let that happen, not now, not to her." My head swam as all the possible ramifications hit me one on top of the other, like a badly plated dish ready to topple.
    As far as the town of Beaverton knew, Kaylee and her mom were just newcomers to the area. Only a handful of people knew she was my daughter. "Oh god, have you told Kyle about this yet? Or Lizzy? Their relationship is already hanging by a thread."
    "I wanted to speak with you first. So we could decide what to do."
    "Why now?" I said coldly. "Why all of a sudden, when you've been sitting on this for over a week?"
    "I tried to talk Rochelle out of it," he pleaded. "I tried to buy her off."
    "Buy her off? With what?"
    He looked down, seemingly unable to meet my gaze.
    I gritted my teeth. "I'm imagining the worst here, Jones. You better tell me all of it."
    "I offered her money."
    "What money?" As far as I knew, Jones was living hand to mouth.
    "Not cash. But I owned my co-op in New York. I offered to sign it over to her."
    "I take it she didn't agree?"
    He snorted. "She said it wasn't about the money—it was about her business integrity."
    I bit back a slew of curses. No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk about moving in with me. He'd been scurrying around to rebury the dirt his ex had dug up. My hands shook, and I clenched them into fists. In the back, someone had turned on the radio. I could hear Mimi and Kaylee chattering away happily.
    The kid had been through too much already. I couldn't let this ghost from my boyfriend's past do further damage.
    "Okay, then. I want to hire you. To find out who Rochelle is working for. If I find out who, I can maybe figure something else out. Some way to encourage them to keep her findings under wraps."
    Jones frowned. "You don't need to hire me. I'll do whatever I can to help."
    He reached for me again, but I bolted from the table. "No, I want to keep this strictly professional. And I'm moving out."
    He blanched. "Andrea—"
    "It's the right thing to do." I said it with as much conviction as I could muster. "Aunt Cecily and