Dish of the Day

By Clare London

Three men together. Diverse tastes ... one common love.

Richie Morton’s sunk all his hopes and savings into a new restaurant in South London promoting British ingredients and recipes. Yet on opening night, it all seems to be heading for disaster. Lost ingredients, manic chefs, no sign of the customers ... he’s in despair. And where are his best friends Craig and Ben, who’ve been helping him set up the new venture? The least they could offer is moral support.

When they do eventually step in, though, they offer support of a very different kind. They tell Richie some home truths -- that he pushes himself too much, and must learn to share and trust his life with others. With them, specifically. And then, when Richie’s still unconvinced, they decide to let actions speak for their love instead. They’ll help him relax and dish up a caring, sexy, and far more intimate menu.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Sep 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781634864381

Clare London

Clare took the pen name London from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with the weekly wash, waiting for the far distant day when she can afford to give up her day job as an accountant. She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic and sexy characters.Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter 3 stage and plenty of other projects in mind . . . she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.All the details and free fiction are available at her website. Visit her today and say hello!Join up for her newsletter at http://bit.ly/2WpHlyK and receive a free short story!Clare also writes as Stella Shaw and launched her Love at the Haven series of rent boy romances in 2021.Website + blog: http://www.clarelondon.com / stellashawauthor.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/clarelondonTwitter: https://twitter.com/clare_londonGoodreads: http://bit.ly/2lNSfC2Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/clarelondonBookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/clare-londonInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/clarelondon11/Quids&Quills: http://www.quidsandquills.com (accountancy for UK authors)

Book preview

Dish of the Day

By Clare London

Published by JMS Books LLC at Smahwords

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2017 Clare London

ISBN 9781634864381

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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For all foodies and lovers everywhere.

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Dish of the Day

By Clare London

Chapter 1

Richie Morton dragged a couple of mis-matched chairs out of the storeroom at the back of the restaurant. One of them creaked badly and the other one got caught on the door hinges, dislodging a chunk of the freshly-painted woodwork. Cursing under his breath, he gritted his teeth and persevered, steadying the chair legs and setting them around the final table. He straightened up, glancing once more around the room. It was six o’clock in the evening, and he was due to open Bubble and Squeak, his new South London restaurant, in just over an hour. He was taking stock of the current status and, oh God…he could feel depression clutching tightly around his heart.

Get a grip, Richie. This was one of his greatest dreams come true. This was something he’d been working towards ever since he left University, and all through the tough years as a line cook, when he was often nothing more than a glorified pan washer, then several positions as sous chef, and finally the elevation to successful head chef. Or modestly successful, anyway. He couldn’t afford to be complacent. And now he had his own restaurant, with a mission to serve the best in European food, with special attention to British ingredients and traditional cuisine. What on earth could be wrong, tonight of all nights?

Richie sighed. Let me count the ways.

Firstly, he was short of two place settings. He’d sent one of the temporary waiters out to the crockery supplier, stuffing his last bag of pound coins into the waiter’s fist to pay for it. So where was the bloke now? He’d never reached the supplier; he’d never come back to Bubble and Squeak. Needless to say, neither had the cash. And what else? The table flowers Richie had collected from the florist must have been forced to bloom early because they were already wilting, dropping shrivelled petals over the salt cellars. Also, the delivery of prawns that had been promised him since dawn today was obviously taking a slow mule train from the North Sea coast, because nothing had arrived yet. Oh, and apparently one of his two line chefs was currently lying drunk in a gutter at the other end of town—or so the man’s furious, cursing wife had said, when she rang to let Richie know.

And this was the grand opening night.

Richie thought he might weep. Or swear. Or—to hell with it—both. And he wasn’t the kind of man to give in to either under normal circumstances.

The phone rang in the back office behind the kitchen, and his whole body shuddered. Three rings, and then it abruptly stopped. A party of guests cancelling already? Another crisis with the suppliers? Greenpeace, with the rallying cry that they’d released the domestically-reared prawns back to the wild?

Maybe it was Ben, at bloody last. Richie had barely heard from his best friend for several days. And then he felt ashamed of his resentment. Ben would be working on the restaurant’s business plan, of course, trying his best to keep Richie’s finances afloat. Tonight, he’d at least be here in spirit, if not in the flesh. Richie shivered guiltily at the thoughts that phrase conjured up: of Ben’s very attractive, very sexy flesh. Dear God.