L.A. Confidential Read Online Free Page A

occasions when he’d let the bitterness and humiliation get the better of him. He’d cursed and yelled and ranted until sheer exhaustion pulled him back. And still she was there, just under his skin. Part of him.
    So how the hell could he move on?
    Tim turned to Kelly, his sous-chef, then added someherbs from a nearby bowl to her roux, and Ken inhaled the wonderful scent. “Smells great,” he said, partly to change to subject, but mostly because it was true.
    â€œOf course.” Tim’s grin broadened shamelessly. “It’s my recipe.”
    Ken let his gaze wander over the kitchen, not really seeing, as his thoughts drifted back to Lisa. “The thing is…” Ken trailed off, wishing he hadn’t even opened his mouth.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing.”
    Tim headed toward the stockroom, looking behind him to make sure Ken was following. “Spill it,” he said when they were out of earshot of the rest of the staff.
    â€œIt’s just…I don’t know. I guess, when I think about her, even after all this time, I’m furious with her…but I also wonder what the hell I did wrong. You know. What I should have done differently.”
    â€œI repeat—you need to move on.”
    Ken brushed aside the comment. “I know, I know. But I’m not just talking about her. I’m talking about me. Not just with Lisa, but with my life.” The truth was, she’d left him with a legacy of self-doubt, and it burned.
    â€œNever second-guess yourself because of a woman, my friend. That’s the path to an early grave—or at least a psychotic episode.”
    Ken chuckled. “Yeah? Well, you may be right about that.”
    â€œAnd speaking of moving on…I interviewed the cutest pastry chef last week.” Tim kept his expression totally serious as he checked a produce list. “Now there’s a cream puff—”
    â€œKnock it off,” Ken said with a grin.
    Tim cracked a smile. “Just watching out for my best friend. You should date more.”
    â€œMe? You’re the one who hasn’t had a date since Melinda left. I’ve had so many dates I should buy stock in a little black book company.”
    â€œFirst,” Tim said as they left the stockroom and headed for the break room, “we’re not talking about me. Second, you haven’t had dates, you’ve had physical encounters. Hit-and-run dating.”
    He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the Formica-topped table, his large, former-NFL-linebacker body looking out of place on the small chair. If his knee hadn’t blown out, Tim probably would have made it far in football…and Ken would be out one hell of a chef.
    â€œI mean, have you tried to get to know any of those women?” Tim asked.
    Ken cocked his head and tried to look stern. “I can’t say I’m comfortable being psychoanalyzed while my head chef sits in the break room right as the lunch rush is wrapping up.”
    â€œNo?” Tim took another slug of coffee. “Well, I’m a perfectionist, you know. And I don’t think I can work until I’m sure you aren’t making a mess out of your life.”
    Ken pinched the bridge of his nose, half in irritation and half in amusement. “I appreciate your concern, but my life is fine. I’m not holed up in some dark room pining away for Lisa. I hardly think about her—”
    Tim snorted.
    â€œâ€”except for this time of year. And I am dating.”
    â€œYou’re not seeing anyone seriously.”
    â€œNeither are you.”
    â€œWe’re not—”
    â€œTalking about you. I know. But maybe we should.”
    â€œIt’s only been a year,” Tim said. “And it’s not like I have a ton of free time.”
    â€œTouché.”
    Tim sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. “All right. You win. But just tell me one thing.” He looked Ken in the eye and