“Hey, pull over so I can jump in the front,” Bryce ordered. When she narrowed her eyes at him in the mirror, he smiled, chagrined. “Pretty please?”
“That’s better.”
“Ma’am?” He added cheekily.
“Now you’re pushing it.” Kaitlyn stopped at the end of the driveway. If she didn’t let one of them up front, she had a feeling they’d whine the entire ride back and she really wasn’t up to dealing with that.
“Hey, why do you get to ride in the front?” Benji argued.
“I said it first, dude,” Bryce retorted as he slid into the seat. “Standard shotgun rules.” He smoothed his hands over the leather, tested the power windows, and then started to play with knobs on the panel. Kait smacked his hand away. Good grief, they were like little kids. You couldn’t turn your back on them for a second.
“Seatbelt,” she ordered. When he complied, she shifted the car into gear and drove back to the restaurant. The boys bantered back and forth but she tuned them out. Instead her thoughts went back to Dan…not that they were ever very far away from him. She wondered what he and Kai were doing right now. Dan was so good with kids, probably because he was one himself. His niece Isabella worshipped the ground he walked on. He would be a good father someday. That thought made her sad. If the time came when Dan found the woman he wanted to marry, she’d have to leave town. She couldn’t chance running into them and having to fake pleasantries. He worked with two of her brothers so he’d always be around. It would mean that she’d rarely see Luke and Ben and Ben’s wife Rachel, but that would be the price she’d have to pay for her sanity. She ruthlessly pushed the depressing thoughts from her mind as she pulled into the lot next to Benji’s neon green Nissan Cube.
“Can’t you roll me to my crib?” Bryce whined. “Your whip is swatchin’. I’d be like the mack daddy of the hood trolling through the artery in a Beemer. Come-on, don’t make me anchor in that hoopty.” He indicated Benji’s five-year old wheels.
Kait stared at him. “I didn’t understand a word you just said.”
Benji smacked Bryce on the back of the head. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t either.” He pointed to Bryce’s lap. “He used an app to look the words up.”
Bryce’s face turned fire engine red as he shoved the phone out of view.
Kait laughed. They really were adorable. Annoying, juvenile and childish, but adorable. “Are you sure you can have the video ready by tomorrow?” It was the hundredth time she’d asked, but she couldn’t help it. They both agreed it could be done.
“We’re going to go work on it right now,” Bryce said.
“We’ll probably have it done tonight,” Benji assured her.
“Classy and professional,” she reminded them. “No hoopty mack daddy whips swatching the artery,” she waved a hand. “Or whatever.”
“So that’s a no to the naked Kaitlyn intro?”
She narrowed her eyes at Benji. He guffawed at his joke, bumping his shoulder into Bryce. She really wouldn’t have put it past either of them to sneak into the bathroom while she was showering. Gah. Mental note to always lock the doors when they were lurking around.
The boys lumbered off to their car pushing and shoving each other. She opened her door and stood, resting her arms on the window. “Hey, did you forget something?”
They stopped and looked at each other and then her with identical expressions of confusion.
“Cameras?”
“D’oh,” Benji exclaimed in a perfect imitation of Homer Simpson. Bryce smacked his head and then rubbed the spot.
She bit back a smile as she popped the trunk and waited for them to remove their equipment. Did she dare depend on them to take on this important project for her? Lauren trusted them so she would, too. But just to reiterate… “You’re sure by tomorrow?”
“Take a chill pill,” Benji insisted before chuckling. “Listen to me...chill pill. I sound like someone from your era. What was it, the sixties?”
Kait gasped. “Just how old do you think I am?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno, forty?”
Kait’s mouth dropped open in horror. Forty? Not for another fourteen years, thank you very much. “You don’t have a girlfriend, do you Benji?”
Even Benji’s ears turned beet red. Bryce hooted with laughter. “Shut up,” Benji groused.
“Just for future reference, boys, you never try to guess a woman’s age or her weight.”
“Weight? That’s easy. You’re what, one seventy? One seventy-five?”
“That’s it.” She shoved him towards his car.
“I was just joshing you on both accounts,” he promised over his shoulder. “You don’t look a day over eighteen and I know you don’t even tip the scales at a hundred.”
“That’s better.” She watched as they stowed the equipment in the back of Benji’s God-awful vehicle. “Guys?” When they both turned around she said, “Thank you again. I really appreciate it.” They waved in acknowledgement, slid inside the car and then motored away.
She closed her trunk and headed for the driver’s seat when someone called from across the lot. Dion McArthur jogged over. She smiled as her boss approached.
“Hey, Kaitlyn, I wanted to say how sorry I am about the sprinkler malfunction today. I couldn’t believe it when Ralph called to tell me.”
Ralph Priddy was the dishwasher slash janitor slash handyman at Fresh!. He was big and bald and covered in tattoos. His hands were the size of catchers’ mitts and his nose looked like he’d gone a few rounds with Manny Pacquiao and lost. When he smiled, a gold tooth flashed. Added to that, he was a former resident of the state penitentiary. He totally creeped her out.
It wasn’t his looks that unsettled her. She’d learned never to judge a book by its cover. Rather, it was the way he watched her, or more accurately, leered. She often felt the weight of a stare, only to turn and catch him gazing at her from across the room in unblinking intent. She wasn’t sure what sent him to the slammer, but she figured it couldn’t be good.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “Accidents happen.”
“I can clear tomorrow morning if you need? I know you said today was the last chance but I don’t want you to miss out on your shot. It’s like a black cloud has hovered over Fresh! the last three days.”
Black cloud or dark-hearted nemesis, as in Amy Warren. Kaitlyn still believed she was responsible for the trio of mishaps. She had motive and means.
She smiled at Dion. He was such a great boss, accommodating her schedule whenever she needed it. He encouraged her to apply for a spot on Killer Cuisine and wrote a glowing recommendation on her behalf. She was sure it was his letter that won her the interview. He was on the team Kendall Buckley assembled to help design the show, but like Kendall, he wouldn’t have a say in the participants. He smiled back. He really was handsome with his dark hair and green eyes. Women across the state fawned over him. He was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Indiana. He did nothing for her. Her fickle heart had eyes for only one dark-haired man.
“Thanks for the offer, but I finally managed to finish the shoot.”
His brows winged up. “Please tell me you didn’t film it in that tiny closet you call a kitchen?”
She chuckled. Her kitchen was the approximate size of a postage stamp. But then, she rarely cooked for just herself. If she craved a big meal, she headed to Luke’s. “No, my brother offered his house. He has sweeping views of the lake, so it’ll look good on film. Not as good as a professional kitchen,” she quickly added.
Dion smiled. “It’ll be amazing, no matter where you shoot.” Someone stuck their head out the back door and called his name. He held up a hand to indicate he’d be right there. “Sorry, I’ve got to run. You’ll be here tomorrow night?”
“You bet,” she said.
He winked and waved and jogged to the restaurant. Kaitlyn slid back into her car and drove away. It was too bad she wasn’t attracted to her boss. He was rich, successful, handsome, a r
eal catch. But he tended to go through women like, well, Dan.
Chapter Four
Kaitlyn’s doorbell rang and she glanced at the clock. It was after nine in the evening. Her heart skipped a beat. An unexpected late-night visit usually wasn’t good news. She prayed her brothers were okay. If something happened to one of them, she couldn’t take it. When Luke was a cop, she worried every single time she heard a siren. When Ben was with the FBI, she stressed if he went too long between calls. Her worry for Grant was never-ending. As a member of the Navy SEAL DEVGRU Team, his work was elite, dangerous and so classified, even the Department of Defense declined to comment on their activities.
She put down the book she was reading and muted the television. The doorbell resonated again. Whoever it was apparently didn’t like to wait. She glanced out the peephole to see Kendall Buckley and Taylor Hudson waving at her with big smiles on their faces. Her heart completely stopped this time. It’d been two weeks since she sent in her demo tape. Benji and Bryce had done an incredible job with the production. They made the segment look like a real television show, complete with stylized graphics and music. They alternated shots from both cameras to show different angles. It was an amazing piece and she’d been proud to send it to the network. She’d also promised both boys she’d put in a good word with Kendall whether she made the cut or not.
Now here stood the executive producer and chief legal counsel on her doorstep. CuisineTV was set to announce the final six tomorrow. Her heart started again and took off in a gallop that would make American Pharaoh proud. She threw off the chain and whipped the door open.
Kendall wasted no time. “You made it,” she squealed, then they were all squealing. Kait was enveloped in hugs as they jumped around in circles.
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “Did you…”
Kendall shook her head and held up her hand. “No. I had absolutely no say whatsoever, did I, Taylor?”
The other woman shook her head to confirm Kendall’s statement. “You did it on your own, sweetie.” She whipped a bottle of champagne from behind her back and hoisted it in the air. “Let’s celebrate!”
It was pushing midnight when her friends left and Kait still felt giddy with happiness…and a little tipsy from the bubbly. She closed the door and fell against it with a happy sigh. She’d made it! This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for—a chance at her own television show. How surreal. She wished her parents were alive to share in her accomplishments. They’d be so proud. Luke would be over the moon. She wanted to tell him but Kendall and Taylor swore her to secrecy. She promised she wouldn’t say a word until the announcement tomorrow.
She picked up her cell to call her dear friend, François Sauriol. She did promise not to tell anyone but he was a continent away so she figured it didn’t count, right? It was early in Paris but François was an early riser. Though he was originally from France, she’d met him at the Culinary Institute of America and they’d become fast friends. When he accepted a job back home, he encouraged her to visit him for a summer. It was the perfect opportunity to take short courses and workshops at the famous Le Cordon Bleu, something she’d always dreamed of doing. She spent three wonderful months soaking up the culture and exploring all of the country. She’d taken two years of the language in high school so she was able to brush up. She also found a weakness for wine from Provence and Camembert cheese from Normandy.
She and François would stay up all night laughing and talking and gossiping about his co-workers and neighbors or people she met in her classes and travels. He was so easy to talk to and she could tell him anything. He made her promise to call as soon as she heard the news, good or bad, and no matter what time.
François was the perfect friend. He was an amazing listener. He encouraged her to go after her dreams and then cheered her along the way. They had the same sense of humor so if she thought something was funny, odds were, he would, too. He was movie-star handsome with golden hair and blue eyes. Dan loathed him. Though he’d never met François, his snide comments and rude gestures and intentional mispronouncing of his name were clear giveaways. He’d only seen pictures—François photographed like a model—and knew that Kait had lived with him in France.
The phone rang and François picked up on the second ring. “Tell me you made it, yes?”
“Yes.”
François shouted in glee and she laughed. “You’ll wake your neighbors.”
“Peu importe,” he scoffed in his adorable accent.
“You will care when Mrs. Léveillé complains to the superintendent again.”
“She is a nosy old biddy,” François sniffed. “She makes everyone’s business her own. Now, let’s come up with a name for your television show.”
“I haven’t won yet,” she reminded him.
“Minor details,” he assured her. “You will.”
#
Kaitlyn attached her iPod to her arm sleeve and secured the earpieces into her ears. She cranked to her workout playlist and after stretching her muscles, she took off running, her pace brisk. The first taping was tomorrow and she wanted to look good for the cameras. Yes, she knew people didn’t tend to trust a skinny chef, but her specialty was healthy cooking, so she gave herself a pass. Thanks to genes inherited from her parents, she was blessed with a fast metabolism, but she also worked hard at staying fit. She couldn’t lecture people on the benefits of soy milk and flax seed and wheat flour if she didn’t practice what she preached.
She checked her heart rate on her Fitbit and upped the pace. She tried to run every day when possible, something she’d done from an early age. Many of the most important decisions she’d ever made were decided while she was cruising the streets. The exercise cleared her brain, allowed her to think and plan. She loved the high running gave to both her body and mind. Her Nike Lunar Glides pounded the pavement in a steady rhythm, the miles ticking away. She was so excited for the show to start, she was practically floating anyway.
A little niggling of worry cut through her euphoria. She thought once she made the cut, the strange things that had happened when she tried to shoot the demo video would stop. If someone—and by someone, she meant Amy—wanted to make sure she didn’t make it, she failed. Kait hoped that would be the end of the incidents, but apparently not. She’d only worked a few hours at Fresh! since, but one night, several people returned their dishes, which had never happened before. One was loaded with salt that she hadn’t added. One returned a bowl of soup with a long black hair floating in the broth, even though she religiously pulled her hair into a ponytail and wore a hat. It could happen, but she didn’t think so.
But what occurred two nights ago was still weighing heavily on her conscience. Three people became violently ill after eating her low-fat, low-sodium marinara sauce. Thank goodness it was only three and that they weren’t seriously harmed. Her sous chef, Henry Nelson, had done his best to handle the situation professionally and he’d succeeded. Vouchers for free meals had helped. One patron insisted on having the sauce tested, which she agreed with wholeheartedly. Her sauce was made from scratch with fresh produce and herbs, and if they used ingredients from a vendor that were tainted, they needed to know. But her efficient staff had already dumped the remains and passed the used dishes to Ralph Priddy to rinse and disinfect.
Amy Warren didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was still bitter Kait was selected for the show. She didn’t keep her thoughts to herself either, and she had a few friends at the restaurant who were willing to champion her cause. Henry encouraged Kait to go to Dion and let him know what was happening, but she wasn’t a tattletale. She could handle Amy’s sly remarks and innuendos. But when she started messing with Kait’s food, then all bets were off. Amy was smart enough that she wouldn’t do the misdeeds herself. Kait’s thoughts turned to Ralph Priddy, the ex-con who washed dishes, mopped the floors and even served as Dion’s personal driver when he needed one. Dion might trust him, but she didn’t. He leered at her constantly and sometim
es even followed her around. Still, she thought he looked at her like he wanted her, not that he wanted to ruin her career.
Ill and upset patrons were bad enough, but the returned dinners and tainted dishes all happened on nights Dion was on sight. He divided his time among his many restaurants but he tried to be at Fresh! when Kait worked because he enjoyed her food. She always whipped up something specifically for him. Amy’s specialty was also cooking healthy since that was the main concept of the restaurant. It was another sore spot that Dion preferred Kait’s meals.
If Kait didn’t win the competition and earn her own television show, she’d still need her job, even part-time. She didn’t want Dion to think she was either slacking off or neglecting her duties all together. Tonight would be her last at the restaurant for at least two months so she wanted to make sure everything went smoothly. She wanted to leave on a high note.
The screech of tires cut through the music blaring in her ears and she whipped her head around just as something slammed into her and sent her flying through the air.
Chapter Five
Dan added the last bag of produce he’d picked up at the farmers’ market, along with the bouquet of fragrant flowers for his sister-in-law, to the back of his Escalade and closed the door. He chuckled to himself, thinking how Kaitlyn would never believe the groceries in the bags belonged to him. He was forever making fun of her tofu-soy-bean-sprout cooking, and now here he was, loading up on fresh herbs and vegetables. She’d probably have a stroke if she saw him shopping at the market. As far as he knew, she had no idea he was a reformed fast-food junkie.
A shiver of awareness slithered down his spine and he turned to see the figment of his imagination in the flesh…lots of flesh. Lots of toned, tanned flesh. Much of her gorgeous body was displayed in a running tank and spandex shorts. You would never guess she was a world-class cook. Not only did she work to keep her body in shape, but she was blessed with the metabolism of a three-year old.
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