A Tablespoon of Temptation (A Recipe for Love Novel Book 1)

by Kelly Collins

  With love,

  Adelaide Phelps

  “I failed at love. Let’s hope I have more success with baking a cake.” She turned the page to find a handwritten index listing dozens of recipes with names like:

  Cherish Me Cheesecake

  Crave Me Cupcakes

  Indulge Your Desire Date Bars

  Friendly Fruitcake

  Comfort Me Carrot Cake

  Slow Burn Blondie

  Romantic Flame Flan

  Passion Pillow Cookies

  Finally, there was one that caught her eye—Forever Fudge Cake. She popped a few more chocolate chips into her mouth. She skipped the story above the recipe and went straight to gathering the ingredients. The name was perfect because she knew she would regret this endeavor forever.

  When she got to the Baker’s chocolate, she shook her head. Nothing containing that could be good, so she substituted the vile stuff with the dark chocolate chips.

  “Hello,” Trish called from the door.

  Danielle yelled back. “In the kitchen.”

  Her friend didn’t have to knock because she had a key, and there wouldn’t be any kitchen acrobatics happening in Danielle’s house. Her counter was strictly for bills and take and bake pizza.

  Trish strolled into the kitchen, all sex blushed and smiling, while Danielle poured the cake into pans.

  Thankfully, Peggy added them to her supplies. And if Trish hadn’t bought her measuring spoons and cups at the flea market, she would have had to guess. Guessing was never a strength for her.

  “Where’s the apron I got you?”

  Danielle pointed to the hook on the wall. “Didn’t want to get my hopes up that maybe spooning would lead to forking or maybe porking.”

  “Just wear it and leave the pork out, no swine for me. There’s plenty of fun with forking.”

  Trish dipped her finger into the batter and sucked it off. She immediately grabbed a napkin, and after a few gagging noises, she wiped off her tongue.

  “Stop goofing around. I followed the recipe. It should be amazing.”

  “Amazing if you like the taste of monkey butt.” Trish went to the drawer where the corkscrew was and opened the bottle of wine she brought. She poured two glasses, sipped from one, and gargled. “That’s vile.”

  “When have you ever had monkey butt?”

  Trish plopped onto the stool at the counter. “Never, but I’m sure that’s what it would taste like. How’s work?”

  Danielle set the timer and picked up her glass, moving to the living room. Her place was an open cottage concept. It was small but quaint. She’d worked hard to get a homey feel with soft colors and floral chintz pillows. She might not cook, but she had great taste in furnishings.

  “It’s hell, and not only because I have to make a cake.”

  Trish flopped on the couch next to her. “Tell me.”

  She started with the first meeting, her being late, and the coffee spill debacle.

  “Way to make a good first impression. Tell me more.”

  “One of the owner’s name is Allie. She’s cool. I like her, but she’s staying in the hotel. I didn’t even know it. Shouldn’t I know those things?”

  “If she’s in the tower, then it’s no biggie. Didn’t you say they were starting at the top and working their way down? She’s not hurting your ability to rent the rooms.”

  Trish had a point, but not knowing made her feel out of the loop. She hated it when people weren’t upfront and honest. Transparency was important.

  “Then there’s the guy who’s in charge of construction. Honestly, he knows more than I do, and that drives me nuts. It’s like Allie tells him everything and me nothing. He walks around the place like he owns it.”

  “Maybe they’ve worked together for a long time. Him knowing stuff isn’t a crime. What else?”

  “A couple of days ago, he brought me a coffee from downstairs. Today, he showed up with a coffee from Pikes Perk and about twenty packets of sugar.”

  “Yeah. He’s a real jerk.” Trish snorted. “You know, not every guy is like Chris. Some are good. Take Rob for instance.”

  Danielle sighed and leaned against the soft cushions. “We can’t all marry the bagel king.”

  Trish smiled. “I know. I got lucky. He’s got a nice bagel, and his lox aren’t bad either.”

  “Stop bragging about his bagel.”

  “Stop being cynical. You’re young and beautiful.”

  Danielle knuckled her tired eyes. “I’ll die alone.”

  “No way. What kind of cat do you want?”

  “I’m allergic to cats. I’ll be the crazy cake lady instead.” She leaned forward to grab her wine and emptied the contents in one swallow. She lifted her nose. Chocolate and sugar scented the air. “Monkey butt my ass. That smells amazing.” The timer went off, and they both raced to the kitchen.

  Danielle donned mitts and pulled the pans from the oven. As soon as she saw the cakes, her heart sank. The cracked tops made them look like they’d baked in the desert for a week.

  “Maybe it tastes better than it looks,” she said.

  “I’m telling you,” Trish said. “the batter tasted like monkey back hole.”

  Danielle cut a piece and pulled it from the pan. It was rock hard, and heavy. When she dropped it on a nearby paper plate, the slice broke in two.

  “You promised to be my taste tester.”

  Trish looked at the plate. “That was before. Now, I’m afraid. I’d rather eat the plate.” She picked up the smallest piece and put it into her mouth.

  Danielle leaned forward, waiting for the verdict. “What do you think?”

  Trish swallowed hard like it was a golf ball instead of a bite of dessert.

  “I’ve had fluffier, more flavorful matzo. Eh.” Trish made a sound like she was hacking up a hairball. “You have some time to perfect it.” She picked up the wine and drank straight from the bottle. “Next week, let’s go back to the flea market and get you that cross-stitch kit.”

  She pointed to the ingredients that covered her counter. “I’m baking cakes for my hobby. Why would I get a cross-stitch kit?”

  Trish moved back. “Cross-stitch won’t kill me.”

  Chapter 8

  James

  Today was the third day he’d arrived with two cups of coffee and a pocket filled with sugar packets. Danielle was already at her desk, organizing her day. She had a planner she carried with her all the time. In a tidy straight line, she wrote out everything she had to accomplish for the day. Items she deemed a priority got a star.

  He snuck up on her and leaned over her chair, casting a shadow across the pages.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He moved to her side and leaned against the cubicle divider.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “I could smell you.” She turned her head and smiled.

  He wasn’t sure if that was a put-down or a compliment. “Should I be offended?”

  “Do you think you smell bad?”

  He offered her a cup and pulled the sugar packets from his pockets.

  “Do you?”

  She rolled back and took him in. He loved the way she always stared at him. He felt like a pastry in the display case. It was as if she craved what she saw but didn’t dare indulge.

  “You smell better than the guys working for you. Do they shower?”

  “Can’t say. Their personal hygiene has never been my focus.”

  “What is your focus?” She closed her planner and emptied a dozen sugars into her coffee. After her first drink, she smiled and sighed. “So good. Thank you.”

  He pointed to her face. “That, right there, is my first goal of every day. Your smile makes the wait in line at Pikes Perk worth it.”

  “I don’t know why you do it, but I won’t complain.”

  “I do it because losing the lounge temporarily made your life worse.” He looked over his shoulder as if he could see the old lounge through the plastic sheeting. �
�Although, how you got a decent cup out of that old pot was a mystery.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  He kicked off the wall. “Then stop being a beggar and be a chooser.”

  With her coffee in her hand, she lifted from her chair. “I need to make my rounds.”

  “Which is another reason I’m here. I want to show you what’s finished. Do you have time?”

  She stalled for a moment, and he thought she might say no. Instead, she shrugged on her blazer, and with her coffee and planner in hand, she moved to the split in the plastic.

  Once in the corridor, he placed his palm at the small of her back and guided her toward the new offices.

  “Oh, wow. You really changed the place around.” She moved along the new hallway that had one large office on the right and smaller offices on the left.

  “This one will be the general manager’s.” He walked into the nearly finished room. All it needed was a door and a paint job.

  She tapped her heel against the marble floor. “You saved it.” She lowered to her haunches and ran her fingers across the shiny surface.

  “I knew you loved it, so I saved enough to do this office and the studio.”

  “I’m glad, the stone was too beautiful to toss away.” She moved around the spacious room.

  It wasn’t the cavernous hole it had been when he started the project, but it was an ample size for the position.

  “You want to see the studio?”

  “Sure.” She followed him through the door at the rear of the office. “Wow.”

  He tried to look at it through her eyes. The posh two-bedroom apartment that was once here was gone, but this was high-end and fully equipped.

  “It’s small but efficient. I think whoever gets this space will be happy here.”

  A floor to ceiling divider hid the full-sized bed on one half of the room. A living room was set up with a big-screen TV that took up the bulk of the rest of the space. There was even a wall that acted as a compact kitchen. It replicated the lounge, but the studio had a barista-worthy coffee machine. He was considering one for the lounge but wasn’t sure the department heads could operate it.

  “Does it come with a person to make the coffee?”

  “No.” He pulled out a drawer and took out a packet of papers. “It comes with a manual.”

  “Good enough.”

  They left the manager’s space and walked into the offices across the hall.

  “These are for the owners.”

  “They’re smaller than the managers. Won’t that be a problem?”

  “I don’t see why. They don’t need much space.”

  She went from room to room. “Will all three of them work here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where will the department heads work? Are you going to leave the cubicles as they are?”

  “Hell no. That whole workspace is atrocious. I’m surprised anyone gets anything done there. That area will be a conference room. The only time department heads will be on this floor is to have lunch and for meetings.”

  She came to a halt. “Oh … where will we do our reports?”

  “Everyone can use the computers in the conference room. Each department head will have a space in their work zone. For example, the perfect space for your job would be around the registration desk. You spend most of your days there or on the floors anyway, so it won’t be a great loss. As for the others … maybe they’ll work more.”

  She laughed. “You’ve noticed.”

  “I don’t miss much.”

  “Speaking of work. I need to go. Thanks for the tour.” She headed toward the hallway.

  “Wait up. What about lunch? Can I take you to lunch?”

  He watched as her cheeks turned pink.

  “I work through lunch.”

  “Okay then. What about a drink after work?”

  She smiled. “I’m flattered, but dating people I work with isn’t a good idea.”

  He agreed with that policy, but they didn’t work together. He was in charge of construction.

  “It’s a drink, not a date. Just two people relaxing after a long day.” Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.

  Her expression remained resolute for about ten seconds, and then a smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Okay. One drink and I’m buying since you’ve bought the coffee all week.”

  His heart swelled with joy. “Deal. How about Halfpipe? It’s a few doors down and has great craft beer and mean martinis.”

  “What about wine?”

  He pushed the elevator button for her. “I’m sure they’ve got that too. Meet you there at five?”

  She glanced at her planner. “Make it six, and it’s a date.” She laughed. “Not a real date.” She looked to the ceiling. “You know what I mean.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. It’s a date.”

  He turned around and nearly skipped back to work. Danielle didn’t consider it a date, but something inside him said it was.

  He watched the door, waiting for her. Halfpipe wasn’t packed, but it was hopping.

  When she entered, all the tension in his body left. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been protecting her seat like it was a crown jewel or because she actually showed up. He hadn’t been certain she would.

  “Glad you came.”

  “I said I would. I always do what I say.”

  “Good to know there are still honest people out there.”

  The bartender came over. “What’s your poison?”

  “Do you have a decent cabernet?”

  He laid down a napkin. “I’ve got a cabernet. Not sure if it’s decent, but it’s red.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  James sipped his locally brewed beer and watched her. Dark brown strands once tucked into the bun at the base of her neck now framed her face. Danielle was beautiful in an understated way. He was certain when she scrubbed off her makeup, she’d still be stunning.

  “While you look lovely after working a ten-hour day, I’ll bet you’re tired,” he said.

  “When did you become an expert on me?” She rubbed the dark circles below her eyes.

  “I told you earlier, I notice a lot.”

  “No … you said you don’t miss much.”

  “Same difference.”

  The bartender set her wine down and walked away.

  James picked up his beer. “Here’s to friends who aren’t on a date.” He waited for her to pick up her glass and tap his.

  “Here’s to something.” She tipped it back and took a long swallow.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  She let out a breath that vibrated her partially closed lips. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “How about with your biggest worry?”

  “Every time I turn around, I’m worried about losing my job.” She pulled the napkin from under her wine glass and shredded it into confetti.

  He leaned in until the scent of her perfume was all he could smell. “Why would you think that?”

  “You want a list? How about I give you the bullet points?” She started ticking them off on her fingers. “New owners. New general manager. Lots of changes. Hell, they didn’t even tell me they were already working from the hotel.”

  “Well, they have to work from somewhere while the offices are being completed.”

  “True, but they claim to be like family with their first name basis bullshit and potluck celebrations. Wouldn’t family let you know what’s going on?”

  “Maybe nothing is going on that needs sharing.”

  She took another deep drink of her wine, nearly emptying the glass. “You know how dogs eat their young if they’re not perfect?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going with this?”

  “I feel like I’m about to be gobbled up.”

  Without thought, he put his palm on her knee. For a moment, when she glanced down, he thought she’d brush him away, but she didn’t. Instead, she covered his hand with hers and left it there.
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  “Personally, I don’t believe you have anything to worry about. You and Flynn and Willetta and Chris are about the only people who do their jobs.”

  “You think Chris does his job? You’re not nearly as observant as you think.”

  “I haven’t seen him in action, but he’s seems put together and a tad bit cocky. You on the other hand seem to have it under control.”

  “I appreciate you saying that, but what you see doesn’t matter. What if they’re not looking? What if they’re the type to not notice? What if I am a fatality of the takeover?”

  “What if you’re the best thing they’ve seen in a long time?”

  She let her head fall forward. “Yeah, what if …”

  He pulled his hand from below hers and raised her chin. “You’re amazing.” He stared into her eyes. Eyes that showed her boiling pot of emotions.

  She gave him a weak smile. “I’m a work in progress.”

  “You’re perfect the way you are.” He sipped his beer. “Hey, I’m finishing the lounge in a few days. Are you excited?”

  “Does that mean you’ll stop bringing me coffee?”

  “Would you like me to bring you coffee?” Watching her smile each time he handed her a cup was the highlight of his day. He didn’t have to do it. She didn’t expect it, but the unexpected made life exciting.

  “I wouldn’t send you away.”

  “Good to know.” He finished his beer. “Do you want another drink?”

  She shook her head. “I better not. That potluck is coming, and I need to prepare.”

  “What are you making?”

  “A cake.”

  “How hard could that be?”

  She pulled a twenty from her wallet and set it on the counter.

  “Depends on the goal. Should it be edible? Or, should I shoot for something that won’t kill anyone?”

  He laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She stood. “Yes. I make a mean cake. The trick to perfection is in the planning.”

  “Let me walk you back.” He slid from the stool.

  “No need. I found my way here, and I’ll find my way back.”

  “Call me old fashioned, but I insist.”

  They walked side-by-side back to Luxe. He made sure to walk a little too closely, so their hands grazed with each stride. That simple touch sent a jolt of electricity to his once numb heart. Warmth spread through his chest. It felt good—damn good.