For the Life of You

Author's Note:

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who voted, to everyone who left comments and sent me e-mails filled with encouragement. It really made me feel good. Thanks for all your support. Transverse, you rock!. I hope that you all enjoy Ch. 2.

JUSTIN SAT HUNCHED

over his office desk, staring at the spread sheet on the computer in front of him. He was tired. The fucking calculations weren't making any sense and this was the third time he'd entered the numbers. He was still trying to get used to this new computer program that his father's accountant had set up for him.

Stupid computer programs

. The whole thing was frustrating him to no end. He pushed his desk chair back and ran his fingers through his long black hair. He was about to scrap the whole thing and start over. He refused to let some computer get the best of him.

His middle finger rested on the delete key and he was about to press it when something caught his eye. He leaned forward and squinted at the screen for a minute and quickly scanned the columns.

There!

He finally saw his mistake. He'd transposed two numbers in the wrong columns and that's what was throwing everything off. A small grin curled at the left corner of his mouth and his fingers flew across the keys as he made the adjustments. He punched the enter key and the numbers magically corrected themselves. Showing that he was doing almost ten grand better than expected.

Yes! Kiss mine!

He raised his hand and flipped the computer screen the bird. Feeling very full of himself, he laced his fingers behind his head and slouched in his chair. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out in a satisfying huff. He could hear Chef barking out orders and the staff scrambling around trying to fulfill his demands. Pans being scrapped over burners, sizzling sounds of meat hitting hot oil and the scent of spices mixed together, the wonderful smells drifted through the open door of his office.

For a moment Justin let himself drift back to the days when he was working in the kitchen. He missed the time when he was hovering over hot burners, flames shooting up from droplets of oil that would ignite as he added ingredients to different pans. Hopping back and forth from one side of the kitchen to the other. The rush he would get from being under the pressure of working two to three orders at a time. To finish one order and get on to the next. The satisfaction he would get when he saw the look of enjoyment on a customer's face after taking the first bite of something he created.

Now, he was on the other side of the business. After five years of blood, sweat and tears, he was the owner of his own restaurant. And although he was very proud of his accomplishment, it also meant he had to sit at a desk and crunch numbers. Something he hated doing with a passion.

He could have hired someone to do the paper work for him. His father's accountant

had

made that suggestion. And it's not like he didn't have the money to bring on a personal accountant. It was just that, even though it gave him headaches and had him pulling his hair at times, it was a part of

his

business and he didn't like anyone messing with it. But he did miss sweating over hot flames, wielding a knife and creating edible art on a plate. Instead, he was staring at a damn computer.

He rubbed his eyes and felt the grainy burn of his contacts. They'd been in way too long and were beginning to dry out. There was nothing for it, he was going to have to wear his glasses tonight. Justin sighed and went back to work. He wasn't finished. He still had to get through ordering alcohol and beverages, make a list before going to the fresh food market in the morning, go over the schedule, and then re-check the menu for Monday.

"Get it right! Don't make me plant my foot up your ass!" A loud voice boomed from just outside Justin's office door and he looked up from his computer to see a big burly man with dark red hair wearing a black chef's coat and a long white apron, striding in.

"And why are

you

still here? You were supposed to be long gone an hour ago." The man stopped just at the edge of Justin's desk with his arms crossed over his barreled chest and a frown on his face. Not only did the man's body, but his entire nature seemed to fill the tiny office space and push everything around.

If Justin hadn't known the man for as many years as he had, he probably would have crapped his pants. Seriously, the man stood six foot, four inches, and weighed close to two hundred and fifty pounds. He would have liked to have said that his weight was all muscle, but over the years, he'd developed somewhat of a belly from "taste testing" the rich foods he prepared.

Compared to Justin's five foot, eleven inch, one hundred and sixty pound slim frame, the man was very intimidating and wasn't afraid to use his size to his advantage. As it was, Justin leaned back in his chair, rubbed his eyes and then swore under his breath from the burn of his mistake. "I'm just working on the finances and going over the schedule for next week, Chef." He squinted up at his friend.

The scowl on the man's face deepened as he placed his beefy fists on the desk. It was hard to believe that those big bulky hands could handle a knife with such precision that he could turn a radish into a delicate rose bud. He leaned forward and got in Justin's face.

"

Bullshit!

All of that could have waited until Monday and you know it. You're just looking for excuses to avoid going out tonight." He eased back a bit, rested one hip against Justin's desk and crossed his arms again. "You've done nothing besides work and go home for the past six months. Give it a rest, man."

It was true, Justin

had

been acting like a man on a mission from hell. He'd put every ounce of energy he had into building the restaurant from the ground up. From purchasing the lake front property, to designing the kitchen and the dinning room itself and then overseeing the construction of the building. Carefully nit picking the right waiters and kitchen staff. Even when he was at home, he spent hours changing and revising the menu.

He slept when his head hit the pillow. Only to be up at the break of dawn to get down to the fresh food market to beat his competitors in getting the freshest fish, meats, and produce. He was always busy doing something for the restaurant. By the end of the day he would be exhausted, but he liked it that way. As long as he kept himself busy he didn't have time to think of other things, and that was just fine by him.

"The restaurant is up and running and is a huge success," his friend continued on. "Stop the madness man, you're starting to drive me nuts being here all the time. Keep this up and you're going to die a lonely man with nothing to show but this place. There's more to life than this restaurant," he said quietly.

Justin winced at that direct hit and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He pushed his fingers through his hair, rolled his shoulders back and sighed. He knew that he'd been overdoing it of late, but he really didn't need his friend to point that out to him. "I'm not trying to avoid going out tonight. I just wanted to get a jump on things so I wouldn't have to deal with them on Monday," he said. It was a lame reason, but he was going to stick with it.

"I wasn't going to say this, but I guess I have to pull out the big guns." The man gave a dramatic pause and eyed Justin. "I just got off the phone with your sister-in-law and she is

pissed

. Five'll get you ten, she's on her way. And if I don't get you out of here in the next ten minutes, my ass it going to be shit for grass and all hell is going to break loose." He griped.

Justin started laughing at the pained and somewhat terrified look on his friend's face. Grateful for the subject change, he couldn't help but tease his friend. "Gavin MacLeod, don't tell me that a man of your size is afraid of my little sister-in-law."

"You're damn skippy I'm scared of her. And she ain't no little thing. She made the Devil cry and laughed while she was doing it. Little, my ass." Gavin pointed a thumb at himself. "I, for one, do not want to be on the receiving end of her temper," he said as he reached out to grab Justin by his arm and pulled him out of his chair. "So get your Asian ass up and out of here before the hellion comes through that door."

"Too late," came a cool voice from the door. "The hellion is here." Justin let out a groan and Gavin swore under his breath. He'd just gotten off the phone with her not five minutes ago. How in the hell did she get there so fast? She must have been talking on her cell phone en route.

They both turned to see a tall statuesque, dark sable haired woman with snapping blue eyes standing in the doorway. Her hands were on her hips and her usually full lips were pressed thin with irritation. "Daisuke Justin Matsumoto." Justin cringed, she used his full name, and her voice had that tone that said he was in deep shit. Things did not look good.

Gavin raised his hands in a way of surrender. "Mel, I tried," his voice was soft and he talked slow, like he was trying to sooth a savage beast that was about to go berserk. Justin shot him a dirty look at his sudden change in nature.

Traitor.

Gavin shrugged his shoulders as he edged his way to the door. Hey, he was no dummy, when it came to Justin's sister-in-law's temper, it was every man for himself.

"I know you did, Gavin." She didn't take her eyes off Justin. "I'll take it from here." Having been dismissed, Gavin tried to make a hasty retreat. Mel didn't move from where she stood and Gavin had to suck in his stomach to skirt around her. He was not a religious man per se, but he made the sign of the cross over his chest behind her back and mouthed the words, "

good luck,

" to Justin as he beat it out of the office.

Justin took in the sight of his sister-in-law. Melissa Harding was a tall woman, standing five foot eight inches and weighed about one hundred and forty pounds. She was wearing a black high collared faux fur lined swing coat that fell open to reveal a low cut, but tasteful, red dress. Her dark sable hair, which usually hung in wild ringlets down to her waist, was pulled back into a tight braid, effectively showing off her high cheek bones and impossibly wide eyes. She wore a simple, but elegant, pair of silver hoop earrings and a matching thin necklace that graced her long neck.

To look at Mel, no one would have ever guessed that she was the rough and tumble tomboy with scabby knees, who played tackle football with the neighborhood boys, and use to beat the crap out of Justin and his brother Rick on a daily basis while growing up. Nor would anyone have guessed that at the age of thirty two she was a mother of three children, ages three, five and seven.

Mel reached behind her and slid the office door closed, muffling the sounds of the kitchen and Chef yelling at his staff. She still hadn't taken her eyes off Justin. He began to get a little nervous and had a flash back to when they were kids. Mel was sitting on him, punching him in the chest while yelling in his face for breaking one of her favorite toys. He rubbed his chest as if he could still feel the bruise. Then he saw her face shift from its cool mask to an impish little grin as she let out a small giggle. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Why do you do that?"

Mel moved over to the desk, shoved some paper work aside and sat down. "Because I can," she said off handedly as she crossed her long legs and leaned back on her hands. "And because it's fun." She giggled again. Justin shook his head and sat back down in his chair.

"You do realize that you scare Gavin to death."

"That's what makes it so much fun." She brought her fingers up to her mouth to make like she was biting her nails in fear and spoke in a spooky voice. "Big bad Chef Gavin, the terror of the kitchen," she spread her fingers and wiggled them, "is scared of me." Mel burst into laughter and had a look of absolute joy on her face.

Justin shook his head again and started to turn his chair back to face his computer but was stopped short. Mel had sharply planted a red high heeled foot between his legs just a hair's breadth away from his crotch and leaned forward.

"Oh no you don't, brother dear." Mel shook her head, her face turned serious and the look in her eyes, almost deadly. "We've got reservations for dinner at The Pub in an hour and a half and

you

still have to go home to get ready," she eyed his ragged t-shirt and jeans. "Because you are not going out looking like that."

Justin shifted back in his chair, putting what space he could between himself and Mel's foot. He wouldn't put it past her to crush his balls if she was of a mind to. "Come on Mel. Just let me finish this up. It'll take me about ten minutes and then I'll get ready." He pointed to a small closet on the far side of the office. "I've got a set of spare clothes. I'll just change here and meet you there."

Mel pressed her foot forward and the pointed tip of her shoe brushed against the seam of his jeans. "Now see, here's the problem with that. You've probably been here since six this morning sweating in the kitchen before working on the computer," she leaned over and wrinkled her nose after taking a sniff. "You are in dire need of a shower. Plus, if I give you those ten minutes, you'll find something else to do and the next thing you know, you've missed our date." She tapped the tip of his nose with her finger.

"I know you too well, brother. It's been ages since you, Rick and I have gone out. It's Valentine's, I just dropped the kids off at my parents so I'm children free, and I want to spend this night with the two men I love the most." She pushed at Justin's chair and rolled him back as she slid off the desk to stand up. "Now," she smoothed her dress down her slim hips with her hands. "I know that you won't leave unless you're walking out the door with me, so get a move on."

"What if I said I didn't want to go?" The question hung in the air and Justin leaned back in his chair. He was being obstinate and he knew it. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend the evening having dinner and drinks with his brother and sister-in-law. He was all for that.

He'd spent every waking moment getting his restaurant off the ground. But that also meant he hadn't seen much of his brother or Mel, other than the occasional phone call to let them know that yes, he was still alive. The last time he'd seen them was at the grand opening of the restaurant, and that was more than a month and a half ago. The business was doing so well that they were taking reservations almost a month in advance.

Justin did miss spending time with his family. He just didn't want their first time getting together to be on Valentine's Day. He didn't want to be forced to watch couples openly express their love for each other on the supposedly most romantic night of the year. He knew he wasn't up for that.

Nor did he want to have to sit and suffer through a meal, being a third wheel, watching while his brother and wife fawned over each other. It made him even more painfully aware of his failed marriage. Pouring everything he had into opening his restaurant helped keep the pain at bay, but on special nights like tonight, well there's was just no stopping the assault on his emotions.

"You have to let Kimiko go, Justin." Mel said softly. "She wasn't good to you, or good

for

you." Her dark eyebrows drew together in concern for her brother-in-law. It worried her that Justin had shut himself off from everyone and buried himself in his work. She knew that the only way to get him back, was to force him to go out. That's what tonight was really all about. She moved behind Justin, bent over to wrap her arms around his neck in a sisterly hug.

"You did everything you could have possibly done, short of bending over backwards, to make your marriage work." She rested her cheek gently against his.

"But it still wasn't good enough." He swallowed, his voice was rough. Justin blinked rapidly, his eyes burning and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

"Not for her, no. Nothing in this world would be good enough for that woman. But that's

her

issue. Not yours. Don't own that. You can't undo what's been done."

Although she said it quietly, there was a firm undertone to her voice. Mel was starting to get angry. She didn't have to mention to Justin that she never cared for his ex-wife. That went without saying. But because of her love for Justin, she had tolerated Kimiko and her spoiled ways. As far as Mel was concerned, it was Kimiko who wasn't good enough for Justin.

Mel wasn't stupid by any means. She knew that she was part of the reason why Justin's marriage had failed. That a lot of the fights Justin and Kimiko had were because of Justin's feelings for Mel. They all knew that Justin had been in love with her since they were kids, but she'd chosen Rick over Justin. And even though it had hurt, Justin accepted her choice.

It was Kimiko who kept harping on it. Not a day went by without Kimiko throwing it his face that Mel loved Rick more than she loved Justin. Hurting Justin even more. She took great pleasure in hurting him. For that alone, Mel would never forgive the little bitch.

Mel was steadily getting more pissed and that wasn't good. The whole point of tonight's dinner was to get Justin out of this funk he'd been in and back into the real world. That wasn't going to happen if they continued to talk about his ex-wife. She needed to change the subject and fast. She released him from her hold and stood up.

"I believe the question was: what if you didn't want to go." Mel sauntered over to the office door and slid it open. "In response to that, I have two words for you," she said cockily. "'Purple. Nurple.'" She gave him a look that dared Justin to argue with her.

Justin shuddered at the threat and remembered the Purple Nurples she used to give him when they were kids. On instinct, Justin crossed his hands over his chest to protect his sensitive nipples under his t-shirt. Then with a sigh he leaned over to shut down his computer and went to grab his coat from the closet. Justin knew there was no point in fighting. When it came to getting what she wanted, Mel was not above using physical force.

"You're cruel, Mel," he said as he pushed his hands through the arms of his coat. "You know that? You're just cruel."

Mel smiled at him sweetly and shoved Justin out into the kitchen. "Yes, yes I am, and that's why you love me. Chef!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Came an answer from across the kitchen.

"Justin and I are leaving. The place is in your hands, don't burn it down." She ushered Justin through the kitchen and toward the dining room.

"Yes ma'am!" Gavin gave a mock salute to Mel behind her back. Mel raised her pointer finger in the air as she and Justin went through the kitchen door. "Don't think I didn't see that."

The kitchen staff broke into laughter as Gavin crossed himself again. "That woman is just plain spooky." He turned to his staff. "What the hell are you all standing around laughing at?" He barked. "Get back to work!" He clapped his hands sharply. "Peanut, that Salmon ain't going to cook itself, boy!"

Mel and Justin walked out into the parking lot of the restaurant. Justin hunched his shoulders against the cold February air and quickly zipped up his coat as they moved towards their vehicles. Mel's Subaru was parked next to his beat up Land Rover. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, but paused to look at her watch before getting in.

"You've got a little over an hour to get yourself ready and meet Rick and I down at The Pub. I've got to go down to the police station and wrestle my husband away from his duties." She settled herself in her car. "I swear, the two of you are really making me work for this night." She put the key in the ignition and shot Justin a look. "Don't be late."