Her new boss glanced back at the set. “We need to get rolling again. Maybe I can be out of here by ten, for once.”
Ten? It was only one o’clock in the afternoon. Although Nick had warned her about the long hours on taping day, they appeared to be halfway through the taping already. Another hour, at most, should finish things up. What was supposed to happen for the following eight hours?
By three o’clock, she began to understand. What Jasper had neglected to mention was that they taped the show three times. Different camera angles, different quips from Nick. Even different clothes, although they were duplicates of the original black ensemble. The host should not appear to have slopped food all over himself, a talent at which Nick seemed to be quite adept.
They were ten minutes into the second taping when Nick let out a yelp and dropped one of the pots. “Ahhhh!” he screeched, cradling the hand that had touched the hot handle.
A small army swooped in to provide aid.
“Careful!” he shouted. “There’s hot oil on the floor.”
“Are you okay?” someone called out.
“Somebody get the first aid kit,” another shouted.
The executive producer shoved her way in to him, close to babbling. “Nick? Nick, darling. How bad are you hurt?”
“I-I’m okay, Leonie. All I need is some salve. God, this hurts, though.”
Leonie brought a slim hand to her mouth while she gawked along with the rest of the crowd.
With everyone else apparently functioning in slo-mo, Reese raced out of the control booth to the set. Pulling Trudy aside, she asked, “Does that sink behind Nick work?”
“Huh?”
“Is there running water in it? We need cool water. Not cold. Not hot. Will it do that?”
“I think so.”
Reese maneuvered her way to the counter, dodging the many would-be helpers who weren’t helping and avoiding the executive producer. She grabbed two of the tea towels intended for picking up hot pots and skillets, turned on the water, tested the temp, then doused the two towels.
As soon as she’d wrung them out, she elbowed her way back to Nick. “Here, wrap these around both hands.”
Still clasping the hurt hand, Nick swiveled away from her. “I’ll be okay. I don’t need any treatment.”
You’re okay, all right, hunched over, pressing your lips together ’til they’re white. Men! Why do you all have to be such cardboard heroes? “Humor me. The sight of men fainting makes me feel too superior.” She drew the towels around his hands. “Keep them taut like this.”
Nick continued to fume. “I appreciate your help. But I’m fine. This isn’t necessary.”
“You’re welcome.”
The injured host stared down at his mummified hands but didn’t say anything further.
She moved to the side just as Leonie McCutcheon reappeared. “Nick, I had Deborah call 9-1-1. They’ll be here shortly.”
He snapped his head her direction. “Call them off. I’m fine.” He held up his bandaged hands. “Reese took care of me.”
For the first time, Leonie appeared to notice his wrapped hands. Her eyes narrowed as she took a step back and acknowledged Reese. “Oh.”
“Standard kitchen first aid,” Reese returned.
The older woman lowered her lids, turned away from Reese. “Right. I knew that.” And like that, her eyes came wide again, the green flashing bright. “Okay, no doctor, unless it gets worse. We’ll take a break to give you a chance to catch your breath.”
“What happened, Nick?” Jasper asked, coming up to them. “You’re usually so careful around the stove.”
Nick shook his head. “I must have left it on. More action on the stove top than usual.” He glanced up at the small group gathered around him. “Sorry to alarm everyone.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Jasper asked.
“I will be. Just need a pain pill.”
Reese hovered on the edge of the crowd, observing the little drama before her. Nick was covering up what must have been a very painful burn, despite her ministrations. That patch of deep pink on his palm she’d spied when she applied the wet towels wasn’t going to abate much during their break.
His attempted smile looked more like he was chewing rocks. Apparently the show must go on, the way he seemed to be toughing it out. She’d done that too on more than one occasion when there was a special meal to prepare.
But his admission about leaving the burner on bothered her. Kitchen safety protocols were drilled into each chef their first day in cooking school. Otherwise, accidents like the one Nick had just experienced would shut down their kitchens on a regular basis. Why had Nick forgotten?
Chapter Four
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Back in his dressing room attempting to reenergize, Nick chided himself repeatedly. He’d been paying too much attention to Reese Dunbar, trying to make out what Jasper was saying to his new protégée. Wondering what the old guy was telling her about him. Wondering if Leonie’s speculation about Jasper being taken with Reese held any truth. Not that it mattered to him. He just didn’t want to see Jasper make a fool of himself.
Reese seemed to be watching him intently at different times during the taping, eyes narrowed. Had she already discovered his lack of cooking prowess? Or was something else troubling her? Like why in the hell had she’d taken this job?
And because he’d allowed his attention to wander, he’d forgotten to turn off the burner under that pan of oil. Swift move, Coltrane. Draw even more attention to the fact you don’t know what you’re doing.
“Nick?” Leonie called out as she burst through the door. “We need you back on the set.”
He checked his watch. “Jasper said thirty minutes. It’s only been ten.”
She lowered her eyes. “I know, dear. If you need more time, that’s fine. It’s just that we’re behind schedule and I don’t want to pay any more overtime than we have to.”
Probably trying to recoup what you spent on these new duds. He rubbed the back of his bandaged hand, like massaging it would reduce the throbbing underneath.
“Do you need another pain pill?”
“I could use one, but I’d better stay alert. I’m lucky this burn isn’t worse. Good thing our new production assistant knows her first aid.”
Leonie eyed him. “She knows how to make her presence known, rushing to your rescue like that. She nearly knocked me down.”
Was she jealous of Reese? She’d only come to his rescue when no else, including Leonie, had. “Thanks to her quick thinking, I should heal faster than I would have otherwise. She’s going to be a real asset.”
“Darling. You can be so thick. The woman hasn’t even been here a day and she’s already set her sights on you. Not that you don’t usually attract the interest of every new female who joins the team.”
“I thought you wanted me to get to know her so I could find out why she’s here.”
His aunt fingered the diamond pendant around her neck. “That doesn’t necessitate having a fling with her.”
“Fling? That sounds so old-fashioned.”
She waved a hand. “You know what I mean.”
“Maybe you should do the detecting then?” His loss, but it might be a way to encourage better relations between the two women.
She raised a finely plucked brow. “Me? Why should I show her the least bit of interest?”
“Because she’s a chef.” It slipped out before he could catch himself. Damn! That was the last thing he wanted her to know.
Her brow shot even higher. “What?”
Might as well go with it now that he’d said this much. “You heard me. And here’s the kicker. She worked at that restaurant where you and I dined last week. Somehow Jasper heard she was looking for another position and he went after her before anyone else hired her.”
Uncharacteristically, Leonie flopped onto his couch, forehead scrunched, apparently processing these new details. “Why would a chef take a job as a production assistant?
She should have thought it beneath her. Because it is.”
“Jasper said she wants to gain television experience and was willing to take this job on a temporary basis.”
Leonie turned to him. “This is insane, Nick. We can’t afford to have someone with actual culinary expertise on this production. She’ll see through you in no time. Then what?”
“She could assist you with my cooking lessons?” he joked.
“Get serious. She’ll feel compelled to expose you. And me. The show will become nothing more than a joke. Then the network will never pick us up.”
“You’re selling her short, Leonie. She could really help you.”
She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe his words. “Help me? Exactly how would she do that, Nicholas?”
Had to think fast. Hadn’t gotten this far in his planning yet. “Well, uh, trends! You like to stay current. Wouldn’t hurt to have a second perspective.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Connections, then. That new format I mentioned earlier? Having local chefs do guest shots? She could help line those up.”
“Really, Nick!”
“Okay, consider this,” he suggested before she told him to drop the subject. “Make her your liaison with the network. Send them a genuine expert who’s also quite attractive. Not that you aren’t, Auntie,” he quickly put in. “But she would add a new facet to this jewel of a cooking show we have.” Surely she’d relate to that reference?
She rose suddenly. “Enough! Every one of those tasks is my job, and I don’t need any help with them.”
Nick rubbed his jaw with his good hand. He’d just given her the perfect replacement for him and she’d rejected the idea outright. He felt a bit like the cat that leaves the dead mouse as a token of love on the doorstep of the human he adores only to see the human recoil at the gesture.
Now what?
****
They broke for dinner around seven-thirty, having finally completed the second taping despite Nick’s bandaged hand. As was his habit, Nick headed toward his dressing room with dinner from a local deli. He’d long ago stopped eating the goodies offered at the craft services table where each week’s menu featured same old, same old: cold cuts, tasteless pasta salad and chips.
He spotted Reese ensconced near the back of the set, attempting to consume the craft service fare. Though they’d gone hours without food, her sandwich lay on her plate, untouched. He came within a few feet of where she sat, and for a second, simply studied the newcomer he’d brought on board. So genuine, so real. There was much more to her than the shapely form encased in her chef’s jacket. Alabaster complexion, long legs, trim waist. She’d come across rather stiff when he pretended to meet her for the first time earlier in the day, but with the right training and motivation, she’d be great in front of the camera.
He should leave her to her own thoughts. Give her a chance to catch her breath after her first day on the job. Ah, hell. “You’re in New York City. It’s Friday, seven-thirty-seven p.m.,” he announced, coming up to her.
She jerked. “Do I look that lost?”
“You’re certainly engrossed in your own thoughts. Reconsidering joining us?”
She raised her paper plate his direction. “Reconsidering this meal. I’ll bring my own food after this.”
Chuckling, he showed her the Styrofoam food container he’d set on a nearby stack of boxes, flipped open the lid so the steamy fragrance of chicken marsala could waft its way toward her nostrils. “Want some? I haven’t touched that craft services junk in years. I’ve got a standing order with a place down the street.”
“I…uh…no, thanks. That’s yours.”
Overly polite? Proud? “True, but you look like you could use some real nourishment.” He sniffed the object on her plate purporting to be meat. “More than this stuff. Besides, I owe you for coming to my rescue earlier.”
She surveyed the contents of the container he still held out to her. “How’s your hand?”
“Hurts like the devil. I hate to think what it would be like if you hadn’t played Nurse Nellie.” He grabbed for the paper plate she held and traded her his dinner. “Here, I’ve had all I can eat. Finish it. Enjoy.”
“Thanks.”
Before he could get away, she called out, “Wait! I need to ask you something.”
He looked back at those dark brown eyes, wide with curiosity. A guy could spend a lifetime giving her the answers she wanted. “What’s that?”
“Why the secrecy about my hire? Why did Jasper say he’d hired me instead of you?”
Should’ve known she wouldn’t let that part drop. He checked for nearby ears. In a lowered voice, he said, “I don’t make the hiring decisions around here, as you probably already figured out. But I thought you’d add so much to the show, I convinced Jasper to hire you.”
“And the secrecy? I’m guessing it has something to do with your aunt.”
“This show is my aunt’s baby. She tends to control everything herself. If I’d waited until I could convince her to hire you, you would have been long entrenched in a new position elsewhere.” He looked her in the eye. “And I really wanted you to join us.”
God, had he actually said that? Funny, he meant it.
“Does she know I’m a chef?”
How much should he tell her? She’d been quite clear about demanding honesty from people. Guess he could tell her that much. “I told her during one of the breaks.”
She set the Styrofoam container aside and looked him in the eye. “How did that go?”
Honesty was one thing, but he wasn’t ready to go for all-out candor. He shifted his gaze to study the floor. “The idea will take a while to grow on her.”
She rose suddenly. “From what I’ve observed today, I don’t see that happening in the near future. Why don’t we mutually agree that this was a bad idea. I’ll take my leave and your aunt can retract her claws.”
“No, you can’t do that!” he said, his voice rising. “I told you, we need you here.”
“To chop carrots and shop for groceries? I don’t think so. As Trudy informed me so succinctly, you don’t need food prep experience to do that. Certainly not a trained chef.”
He gave her his most earnest expression. “But you need us too. Remember that.”
She opened her mouth as if to reply but closed it again.
He had her attention. “Think of that woman who got your job just because she spent fifteen minutes in television. You don’t want that to happen to you again, do you? Working here will help you parlay your resume into hosting your own show someday.”
She seemed to consider his argument, her doe eyes glancing down. “I feel out of place here.”
Her sincerity and vulnerability caught him off guard. He wasn’t used to dealing with someone so frank. Made him want to protect her, make things right for her. Go figure. “Sure, you feel alienated. I’d feel the same way if I had just sat around all day observing Jasper’s nervous breakdowns and my aunt’s dramatics.”
“Not to mention your accidents.” Deadpan delivery.
Involuntarily, he touched the bandaged hand with the good hand. “That, too. Please, give it a little more time. I guarantee you’ll feel differently a week from now.”
“I heard that same coaxing voice earlier today when you counseled your aunt’s assistant. Is that who you are? Some sort of counselor?”
She wasn’t convinced. He needed a deal maker to keep her here. “I know! You can help me research some ideas I have for a new segment on the show. That’s a hell of a lot more challenging than chopping vegetables. Although, you’ll still have to do that too.”
She seemed to brighten. “I guess I could give it a try.”
He swooped in and grabbed her by the shoulders, bad hand and all. “Great! You won’t regret this decision.” Bad move, for his hand and for her too, given the stricken look that came over her face. He backed off. “And if Leonie starts to get to you, let me know. I have a certain ‘in’ wi
th the woman.”
****
The following Thursday, a last-minute electrical breakdown in the prep kitchen cut into Reese’s time to complete her work for the next day’s taping. Which is why she found herself staying into the early evening to catch up. She’d been on the job for almost four days, in which time she’d reorganized the prep kitchen, scoured it and updated the spice inventory.
“What are you doing?” a female voice stage-whispered behind her.
She almost dropped the carrots she’d been examining. “Watch how you approach someone in the kitchen,” she warned Trudy, automatically reverting to chef persona. “Suppose I’d been using a knife? I might be holding the bleeding tip of a finger right now.”
“Sor-ry. I was just trying to tell you about another of Leonie’s rules,” the other production assistant said, joining Reese at the counter.
Reese rolled her eyes. “Per Leonie’s rules, I haven’t deserted my veggies. Besides, no one else is here.”
Trudy shot a furtive glance over her shoulder. Turning back, she replied, “That’s the point, and besides, I said another of her rules. We’re not supposed to be here. Not this time of day, anyhow.”
“It’s six-thirty in the evening! Everyone else has gone home for the day. I wasn’t able to get back to these carrots earlier and they need to be ready for tomorrow.”
“You couldn’t wait until then?”
Did this woman know nothing about food? “They need to crisp overnight. Why are we whispering?”
“Oh, sure. Crisp. I knew that. And we’re whispering so no one can hear us,” Trudy shot back sotto voce, rubbing her forearms as if shivering. “Or know we’ve been here at the forbidden hour. Look, I’m taking pity on you because you’re a newbie and I don’t want you to get fired. I really need your help.”
Who was Trudy? One minute she was resentful at the idea of having another production assistant on the scene, and the next, like now, she was acting like a pal, a confidante.
Reese finished her work with the carrots. Though she still didn’t understand why her partner was so worried, she let the other PA usher her back to the small group of offices they occupied when not on the set. No walls, just a collection of mismatched desks cluttered with cookbooks, foodstuffs, and cooking gear. But away from the set and out of earshot.
And He Cooks Too Page 4
