Can't Stand the Heat (Corporate Chaos Series Book 2)

by Leighann Dobbs

  Veronica acted as though everything was such a big deal, but TJ guessed someone like her had no concept of real hardship. Not like he did. But still, he sensed something just beneath the surface. Like maybe there was a reason she acted so bitchy, and maybe there was a nicer Veronica just under the surface, struggling to emerge.

  He had to admit her quick-witted insults always made him chuckle, which usually infuriated her, and that made him chuckle even more.

  But her struggles were not his concern. He had his own issues.

  “Hi, handsome. What’s new?” TJ grinned as he turned to see the familiar face of Gertie O’Rourke beaming up at him from her wheelchair. Gertie was one of the few people associated with the show that deigned to speak with him. One of the few who even knew his name. Normally, he preferred to keep his head down and his mouth shut, but somehow he’d found himself drawn to the feisty old lady.

  “Hey, beautiful, how’s your day been so far? Any new gossip?” he asked her as he stooped to be closer to her eye level.

  “Meh, no good gossip really. Today’s contest was about bacon. Bacon! What kind of contest is that for a real chef? These young ones don’t know how to put the pressure on, that’s for sure!”

  TJ laughed. He loved this woman’s fire. She might have a disability, but she was in no way weak. The disability had only made her stronger, he imagined.

  “Well, don’t you run the show? I mean, don’t you decide what the contests are?”

  “I’m supposed to, but this corporation has things all political. Got these young yahoo executive producers who think they know everything above me giving orders. I don’t like it at all. In fact, I’m thinking of cutting out and doing my own thing, sweetie. What do ya think about that?”

  TJ grinned at her as her face beamed.

  “I think that’s exactly what you should do, Gertie. And if you do, you’d better take me with you!”

  He kissed her hand and watched her as she wheeled away, giggling, his heart bursting with happiness that he’d made her smile.

  12

  Raffe sat on the bungalow’s deck steps, his feet dug into the hot sand, and tried not to think about Sarah in the shower. For some reason the thought terrified him. That’s why he’d left. How stupid was that? It wasn’t as if he’d never showered with a woman before.

  But this was different. He was depending on Sarah to win the contest. He needed her. And, well, he liked her too. But that stupid kiss had changed everything. No wonder Sarah was acting strange. She had that boyfriend, Tommy, her mother had mentioned. Maybe he wasn’t really an ex, maybe her mother just assumed that because she was supposed to be engaged to Raffe now. Poor kid was probably riddled with guilt over kissing him.

  The sun cast long shadows behind the bungalow as he walked to the shoreline, the sand turning cold and wet as he got closer to the pounding surf. The humidity increased, and Raffe tasted the salt on his tongue as he looked out over the aqua-blue sea, watching the white dot of a cruise ship glide along the horizon.

  He stood for several minutes as the color of the sky transitioned from blue to purple while the sun dipped further behind him. The sunrises here on the beach were awesome, but sunsets could be just as pretty.

  He started back toward the resort. He didn’t want to go into the bungalow yet, so he veered onto the stone path that meandered along the edge of the resort. Shaded by palms and lined with tropical plantings, it was darker here, cooler.

  As he came upon one of the alcoves situated along the path, he heard someone crying and noticed a hunched figure sitting alone on the stone bench. He recognized Gina as he drew closer.

  “Gina? Are you okay?” he asked, unsure of what to do. Damn! He hated when women cried. It always made him feel useless. Plus it usually meant drama, and if there was anything Raffe hated, it was drama. But it was too late to turn around now. He’d already opened his big mouth, and Gina was looking up at him with luminous watery eyes.

  “Hi, Raffe. Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” She dabbed at her wet eyes with a tissue, black mascara marks running down her cheeks.

  “What’s going on? Are you all right?” Raffe sat down beside her.

  “It’s just, oh, I don’t know, Raffe. Here we are in this beautifully romantic resort, in these gorgeous bungalows, and all Tony can think about is if the TV gets ESPN. He’s just so uninterested in me! I may as well not even exist.”

  Raffe chuckled over the sports comment, and Gina started sobbing again. As usual, he’d done the wrong thing.

  “Oh no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you more upset. The ESPN comment made me laugh. Don’t all guys like ESPN? I know I do, but I’m sure Tony is interested in you. I mean, you are married after all.”

  “How do you do it? How do you stay so happy and interested? You and Sarah. I watch you both. You get along so well. Always making one another laugh! And it is so obvious that you are physically attracted to each other, even after you’ve been together for a few years.”

  Was it obvious? Sarah was pretty, and he had to admit there was a bit of an attraction there. Okay, given how his body reacted to the kiss, a lot of an attraction. But they were just friends.

  Raffe hadn’t considered how he and Sarah appeared to others. They must be doing a good job faking it. Ironic though that a woman who was having marriage troubles was asking him how he and his fake fiancé remained so happy.

  “Well, I guess it’s just that we trust each other. And we don’t take each other for granted. I mean, we’re lucky that we found each other. And she’s funny. She makes me laugh all the time. She is very down to earth.” Raffe stopped abruptly. Was he gushing? The words had just tumbled out. True words.

  “Well, he doesn’t even seem interested if I flirt with other men,” Gina blew her nose into the tissue.

  So that’s why she’d been flirting with him—to make Tony jealous. Raffe felt a stab of pity at her desperation.

  “You know, Gina, I guess maybe the key is to not try too hard. I mean, just be yourself. Don’t be a flirt. That might actually push Tony away. Just be honest and tell him how you feel. Maybe he doesn’t know you want to spend time doing other things instead of watching TV. You two have been together a lot longer than Sarah and I have, and sometimes relationships just need a boost. If sports are such a big deal to him, maybe you should suggest that you go to that romantic outdoor bar down by the water. There’s a TV there, and you can have a nice night out and watch sports at the same time.”

  Gina’s face lighted. “You really think so? That sounds like a good compromise.” She dabbed at her cheeks, wiping off the muddy mascara tracks.

  “Give it a try. Honesty is usually the best policy,” Raffe said.

  “Thank you so much! I never thought that maybe I was pushing Tony away instead of making him jealous. I love the idea of going to that bar! In fact, I’m going to go ask him now if he wants to go. Wish me luck!”

  They both stood, and Gina threw her arms around him, thanking him again. Raffe was a bit taken by surprise but managed to hug back before she pushed away and ran off down the path.

  Raffe’s heart swelled watching her. He hoped his advice would mend their marriage. As he sat there, a strange feeling came over him. Maybe he needed to take some of his own advice. Was he really being honest with himself about how he felt about Sarah?

  The air in the back room of the kitchen was heavy with steam from the industrial automatic dishwasher. The rubber-mat-covered floor was soaked, and Veronica smelled the sweat of a hard day’s work as she stood in front of the stainless steel table where one of the dishwashers loaded another tray to feed into the washer.

  “What? No, I don’t know his name. That’s why I am asking you, you idiot. He works nights, and he looks like he would blow away in a strong wind he’s so thin.” Veronica had lost her patience with the incompetent kitchen staff over trying to learn the name of that snarky dishwasher she kept running into. No one seemed to know him. Didn’t these people talk to each other?


  She stormed out of the kitchen, pushing the steel swinging door so hard it slammed into the wall as she swore under her breath. She’d have to deal with that dishwasher later. She needed to check on Sarah again to make sure she hadn’t left the bungalow.

  As she turned onto the dimly lit path that led from the resort’s kitchen toward the bungalows, she saw two figures embracing in one of the romantic alcoves. Something about it looked suspicious. Slowing down, she stepped sideways behind a large palm tree, peeping her head out from behind it to watch.

  Veronica couldn’t believe her eyes. Raffe and Gina were hugging. Or kissing. Or at least doing something that they shouldn’t be!

  She pulled out her phone and aimed the camera, snapping off a few shots before ducking back behind the tree. Her spirits rose in triumph. She finally had something that she could use against them!

  She didn’t know how she could use the photos, but maybe fooling around with another contestant’s spouse was against the rules. She made a mental note to look that up.

  She turned and walked the long way around to the bungalows, casually strolling past Sarah and Raffe’s, hoping to catch Sarah sneaking out. Nope. Veronica could see her through the sliding glass doors, sitting leisurely on the couch and flipping through a magazine. Probably one of those local tourist attraction publications the hotel left in every room. Maybe she wasn’t going to sneak out tonight.

  Her phone dinged in her hand, and she almost dropped it. She jerked her head up, hoping it hadn’t alerted Sarah. No, she continued paging through the magazine. Veronica scurried out of view, looking at the display.

  Damn, it was a text from Tanner.

  Use the secret weapon. Or else.

  13

  The next day Sarah’s morning coffee was disrupted by a sharp knock on the door. She was actually kind of glad for a distraction. Raffe had been acting weird, and the morning had been filled with awkward conversation punctuated by long silences.

  The friendship she’d felt growing between them had been stunted, and she suspected it was all because of that stupid kiss. She wanted to tell him the kiss didn’t matter, she wanted things to go back to the way they were. But somehow she couldn’t get the words out. She was afraid that was because the words weren’t true and that somewhere deep down inside the kiss had mattered.

  So when Jim knocked on the door and summoned them to Scott’s office, she was almost relieved.

  On the way, Jim apologetically informed them that yet again there was an accusation against them about cheating, and Sarah guessed correctly as to who was behind it: Brenda.

  “This is really starting to get ridiculous,” Sarah said as they entered Scott’s office, hoping no one noticed that her voice was trembling. She had an idea what this was about and hoped that she was wrong.

  “You left the resort property the night before last, and you’re not supposed to! It’s against the rules! Cheater!” Brenda, who was already seated in the most comfortable guest chair, screeched as soon as they stepped into the office.

  “Do you have proof that she left?” Scott asked Brenda, sounding a bit annoyed with the situation.

  “Well, no. But I saw her!” Brenda replied, pointing her finger accusingly at Sarah.

  Sarah’s mind raced. Okay, think up an excuse. No wait, don’t say anything. She can’t prove it. Oh crap! We cannot lose the contest over this. Maybe it was better to keep her mouth shut. She was not a good liar.

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, Brenda, but Sarah was with me. All night.” Raffe put his arm around Sarah and winked. “Believe me, I would have noticed if she left.”

  Relief washed over her. Raffe had saved the day. Immediately following her relief, guilt started to kick in. Raffe knew she hadn’t been there, but he was covering for her. Is this what it feels like when someone actually has your back? The only one who had ever looked out for her was Tommy. It felt good to have someone to depend on.

  “Brenda, I’ve had enough of your antics, okay? Your accusations have cost us money and time, and so far nothing has come of them. If I were you, I’d focus on my cooking. You’re barely squeaking by as it is. This is the last time I want to hear about any assumptions you have regarding who is doing what.” With a wave of his hand, Scott dismissed her. He then turned to Raffe and Sarah. “I apologize for this, again. I have to follow up on all of these types of issues. I’m sure you understand. Better get a run on; the next contest starts in fifteen minutes.”

  Sarah and Raffe both thanked Scott and left, Sarah breathing a huge sigh of relief as she closed the office door behind her.

  Raffe didn’t know why Brenda hated them so much. Maybe she was doing similar things to other contestants. Whatever. All he knew was that he couldn’t let Sarah’s nighttime wanderings get them kicked off, so he’d pretended she was with him in the bungalow.

  But he had to wonder where Sarah had gone the other night. Maybe she had gone off the property to meet that ex-boyfriend Tommy. Or maybe she was just going for a stroll and wandered too far. Anyway, he couldn’t ask her now. They needed to focus on cooking.

  They went through the usual routine, sweating it out in front of the cameras while Landon enjoyed his on-air time and drew out the announcement of the challenge. This time they were tasked with creating a tropical island dish.

  Seafood immediately came to mind, and Raffe went through his mental index of recipes. Tilapia. Mahi Mahi. Grouper.

  Sarah was already one step ahead of him, already grabbing a variety of seafood and bringing it back to their station. Shrimp, lobster, Mahi Mahi, and octopus. Octopus could be a challenge to cook right, but maybe Sarah knew what she was doing.

  He started up the Jenn-Air grill while Sarah got busy whisking sauces. It was getting so they didn’t even have to talk about who did what anymore.

  Sarah was a whiz at creating marinades and dipping sauces, which was perfect because Raffe wasn’t so good at that. Raffe, on the other hand, seemed to have some kind of sixth sense about when meat would be done, and his selections always came out perfect. Their engagement might be fake, but their skills really did complement each other. They made a pretty impressive team.

  “What do you think we should do with the octopus? Grill it?” he asked her, leery of doing so. Octopus had a very small window for how long it could be cooked, and if cooked one second longer, it became tough as a tire. At the same time, grilling it would probably be different than any other team’s approach.

  “I think grilling is risky but worth it. You can do it; just go easy. Maybe sear it, and I’ll make a dipping sauce.”

  Raffe nodded. Searing was a good idea. He only hoped he didn’t overdo it, because it could be their last challenge if he did.

  He kept his eyes glued to the octopus, knowing that Sarah was watching him out of the corner of her eye. Instead of it irritating him, he was relieved. He knew if he did something wrong she’d tell him immediately. It was like a welcome system of checks and balances. It was critical they get this right, because if he ruined the food, they weren’t allowed to start a new dish, no matter how much time was left on the clock.

  He finished up the dishes, and Sarah plated them as he passed them along to her, adding sauces and various garnishes that added a punch of color. She drizzled the sauces in a funky design and finished by wiping the edges of the plates with a clean towel.

  Yep, she’d make a fine head chef at one of his restaurants.

  The staff took the tasting dishes to the judges, and Raffe’s pulse notched up as they took their time sampling each dish, sometimes bending their heads together to discuss something. He paid special attention when it came to their dish, watching as they speared the octopus with their forks, scrutinized it from all angles, and finally tasted it.

  Raffe wasn’t sure but he thought that Durkin, by far the pickiest of the judges, made a face when he bit into the octopus. He recalled a review Durkin had written in his weekly food column for The New York Times about a restaurant’s shrimp dish, claiming it had been
one of the worst dishes he had ever had and that the shrimp tasted like burnt rubber dipped in raw sewage. The restaurant had been shuttered several weeks later.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, our judges have the results!” Landon preened for the cameras. “Last time we announced the winners first. This time we’ll start with the losers.”

  The audience oohed.

  “But first, every team’s dish was wonderful in many ways. It was a hard decision. And such variety…”

  Raffe zoned out as Landon blabbed on about the various tastes and how they were judged on taste, inventiveness, and presentation.

  “…and even in this close competition, someone must lose. In this case, the team with the lowest score missed the mark on presentation.” Landon paused. “Team Six, Dick and Brenda… I’m sorry, but you’re going home.”

  Brenda shrieked. “But—”

  Dick grabbed her arm and Raffe heard him whisper, “Shush… we don’t want to be sore losers.”

  Raffe glanced at Sarah and found her struggling not to smile. He shouldn’t feel so triumphant, but it served Brenda right. Better yet, Raffe and Sarah wouldn’t be going home!

  Landon turned to the audience. “I always hate to see good chefs sent home. But there can be only one winner here. And we’re closer than ever to the final challenge. So now, let’s celebrate as I announce the winners of this challenge… Team One, Raffe and Sarah! They created a seared octopus with a jalapeño-based dipping sauce that the judges agreed was one of the best they’ve ever tasted. Even Franz Durkin.”

  Landon’s last comment elicited laughter from the audience as Sarah launched herself excitedly into Raffe’s arms. Caught up in the excitement, he spun her around a few times before putting her down. They were all smiles until they heard the chanting from the crowd.