But for now, the family sporting goods business offered the perfect opportunity to do all the things he’d been wanting to do. The prospect of a multi-continent trip to promote the business while engaging in adventure sports for charity loomed large. No more avoiding the reckless pursuits he craved. No more being responsible for another person’s well-being. He wanted that new life, badly, and it was almost in his grasp.
Except there were just a few loose ends. Able House was one, and apparently Darcy Parrish was another.
“You’re an idiot, Judson,” he told himself. “She doesn’t even want your help.”
But she would have it. He’d taken on the responsibility of Able House not only as an example to his sisters of the value of diversity in one’s life, but also as an example of the duties of the wealthy to those less fortunate. The first round of residents had all been chosen as those most likely to be able to make their own ways eventually. Potential strong role models who might offer hope to others. It was clear why Darcy had been included. She was talented, bright and bold. But he’d heard her try to get Olivia to lie for her. He’d seen her anger. Something was wrong.
Having been the one to shepherd Able House into being, he had to make sure that wrong was made right. Whether he’d known it before or not, he now knew that Darcy was in his employ and that made him responsible for her.
When he left town, he had to be sure that Able House and its residents were safe from attack. He didn’t want any of his neighbors to be able to say “I told you this wouldn’t work” or “I told you this would be a problem” or “We don’t need any trouble bringing our property values down.” These were people’s lives, hopes and dreams that were at stake.
He’d been lax. He’d been concentrating on getting Lane off to college and then on his own issues. Having chosen Able House’s directors with care, he’d assumed that the brand-new facility had launched cleanly.
Apparently that wasn’t completely true. Darcy Parrish had more than just a smart, sexy mouth. She was willing to be insubordinate to an employer rather than meet a group of people who had only wanted to praise and admire her. That could be problematic for future employers. Because while Darcy clearly had talent and could be a success, that wouldn’t happen if she was unwilling to promote herself in the competitive Chicago culinary field. Patrick knew that Mrs. D. had hired Darcy because of her Able House connections. Her talent might never be fully recognized if she insisted on ignoring those who wanted to meet her. And that would be bad news for both her and Able House.
He wasn’t going to let that happen. He was going to help her. And he was going to get some much needed coffee, he thought with a near groan. Damn, but he needed coffee if he was going to face the woman with a clear head.
Patrick just bet that Darcy Parrish made coffee that would make a man beg. Probably not a good idea to let her know that she had the power to make him beg, not with that saucy attitude of hers, he thought with a smile.
Oh, no. That wasn’t how things were going to be.
“Let the games begin, Darcy,” he whispered as he went in search of his pretty chef.
CHAPTER TWO
DARCY’S nerves were totally on edge. When she’d finally returned to Able House last night she’d been unable to sleep for hours knowing that today was likely to bring another meeting with Patrick Judson. The memory of the man’s arresting presence had her mind spinning as she tried to think of some plausible reason she could give for not showing up. Unfortunately there was none. She was going to have to face the man.
“So what?” she whispered to herself. “He’s just a man.” And she had been working for him for a week. This should be no big deal.
Except it was. Patrick Judson was not only gorgeous and sexy, with a voice that made a woman think of…oh, things she had stopped thinking of a long time ago, he was also larger than life. And she was—eek!—going to be spending a little time with him.
No big deal, she repeated to herself again as she finally made it to work, bleary-eyed and tired. He’d probably give her a half-hour lecture and a few pointers and that would be it. Had she seriously worried that some rich guy was going to hang around with her and put her through her paces?
“Hey, Darce. So, I hear you’re going to spend the whole day with Mr. Judson,” Olivia said as Darcy came through the door.
So much for no big deal. “Who told you that?” she asked the young woman, but secretly Darcy was thinking, I am? The whole day?
“Mrs. D. told me that I would have to handle lunch alone.”
Darcy hadn’t run into Mrs. D. yet. She’d better go find out what was going on.
“But she said that it wouldn’t be too difficult,” Olivia continued. “Because Ms. Judson—Lane—is out shopping, and because Mr. Judson wouldn’t be here, anyway. He has a meeting with you. I guess his guests were really impressed. Maybe he’s even going to ask you to cater his wedding.”
“Wedding?”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot that you haven’t met Angelise Marsdon yet. She’s pretty hot.”
“I didn’t know Mr. Judson was engaged,” Darcy said. She thanked heaven that she hadn’t let her crazy attraction to her boss show. Not that it ever would have even occurred to Olivia that Darcy might be attracted to anyone. Many people, maybe even most, assumed that the wheelchair stripped a person of desire.
“Oh, he isn’t yet, but it’s pretty clear that he and Angelise—don’t you love that name?—are an item and that they’re made for each other. Now that Lane is going to college in a few weeks, and all of his sisters will be out of the house, he’ll be alone. That engagement’s gonna happen. I just know it. You’ll see. So, this meeting with Mr. J. is just about all that stuff last night, then?”
“Not a clue, Liv, but I’ll find out soon enough. Until then, I’m really not going to worry about it.” No, and she wasn’t going to bother thinking about Patrick Judson’s upcoming engagement, either. Still, Liv’s mention of her boss’s relationship with the apparently beautiful and hot Angelise Marsdon was a solid wake-up call, a smack upside the head, Darcy thought. What had she even been thinking about noticing the man’s eyes and getting all gooey just because he had a deep voice and a nice smile?
“Breakfast first,” Darcy said, forcing herself to stop dwelling on her boss’s ability to make a woman feel hot even when she was holding the refrigerator door open. “I am not going to let you get stuck with extra chores just because I have to leave the kitchen for a few hours. Let’s get started.”
But she had barely managed to get the coffee made when she felt a presence at the door and turned. Patrick Judson was just entering the kitchen, and the way he was studying her…
Over the past few years Darcy had grown to expect and dread the pitying looks people sometimes sent her way, or worse, the way they glanced away self-consciously, but this was different. There was genuine interest in his gaze. And something else that made her feel like blushing when she was just not the kind of woman who blushed.
Anger sluiced through her. She liked this job. She needed it, too. Romantic or lustful thoughts were off-limits, and not just because the man was practically engaged. It went deeper than that. She’d already had a man destroy her heart when she was at her lowest. Her career had been snatched away. She’d lost her baby and more. Everything she’d dared to reach for was gone, so she no longer risked dreaming. She grasped only for the attainable. And Patrick Judson? He didn’t even come close to being attainable. The man might as well have had a big, flashing Not For Darcy light on his forehead. Only a self-destructive fool would risk being attracted to him, and she was a survivor, not a fool.
Life had boiled down to the practical, the doable, and even if she had still been the type to indulge in romantic dreams, this man was way out of her league and would have been even before the accident.
“Excuse me for invading your kitchen before you’re done, but what can I say? That is one of the most incredible scents in the world,” he said, glancing at the coffeepot. �
��A man would do a lot for a cup of that. Is it ready?” he asked with a smile that would have coaxed a snowman into a sauna.
Darcy couldn’t help smiling back just a little. “It’s ready. Coffee is a major food group, you know.”
He grinned and that darn snowman melted a little more. “I see we share an addiction.”
Darcy’s body turned to fire. That deep voice and the way he breathed in the aroma of the coffee she handed him before he took a sip…Darcy could so easily imagine him nuzzling a woman’s neck, breathing in her scent and telling her she smelled wonderful.
Darn it, no, where had that thought come from? Instantly she tried to blank out her thoughts. Some men could home in on a woman’s attraction. She prayed that Patrick wasn’t one of them. “Breakfast will be ready in mere minutes,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. Thankfully the act of promising results “in mere minutes” was enough to get her back on track. The meal would have to be something uncomplicated. Omelets, she decided, with fresh vegetables and herbs and cheese.
“Sounds great,” he conceded. “And after breakfast, you and I have things to do. Would you dine with me?”
Mind reading men became the least of Darcy’s worries as she thought of sitting across a table from him. There was something about a meal that suddenly seemed very intimate.
“No,” she said, too hastily. “I mean, thank you, but no thank you. Work to do, you know. Olivia is on her own today. I need to…” To what? Olivia was more than capable of managing on her own when Patrick wasn’t around to be fed. When Darcy had arrived, the young woman had been relying on a cache of frozen casseroles the former cook had made up. There were still plenty of those.
But this is my kitchen now, Darcy reminded herself. And she didn’t like falling back on the former cook’s meals. So, there. She did have a good excuse for not eating with her boss. She wasn’t a coward.
“Work,” she repeated.
“Coward,” he said with a smile. “As your employer you know I’d give you a pass on the work, but…maybe work isn’t the problem? You told me that you don’t like being the center of attention. You must have thought I would grill you.”
Darcy blinked. “Would you have?”
He smiled again. “Not until after breakfast.” Then, he picked up his coffee, turned and left the kitchen. “A few minute’s reprieve, Darcy,” he called back. “Then you and I begin.”
Silence filled the kitchen after he had gone, but Darcy’s mind wasn’t quiet at all. Begin what? she thought.
Less than an hour later, Patrick stood outside the house looking down at Darcy and reminded himself to tread carefully here. Darcy was his employee as well as a resident of Able House, and both of those facts made him responsible for her. It wasn’t right for him to notice those warm brown eyes or the way her hair caressed her jaw when she moved. His unexpected interest in her wasn’t acceptable. Especially since he would soon be leaving the country.
“Are you ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.
Those brandy eyes widened and she looked at his hand as if it was some sort of harmful weapon.
“I’m sorry. Have I…offended you?” he asked.
Quickly she shook her head. “No, not at all. And yes, I’m ready.” Then she tilted her head slightly. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. People generally don’t hold out their hands to me.”
He nodded. “Because you need them to operate your wheels, I assume.”
Darcy hesitated. “Yes, that’s probably why.”
But it wasn’t, he could tell. What kind of people had she been dealing with? “If anyone at Able House has been unkind…”
Instantly she went on full alert. “No! They’re wonderful people, all of them. I love that place! No, the handholding…I think it’s just that the metal gets in the way in people’s minds. It’s like having one of those force fields around you from a sci-fi movie. For the record, I don’t think it’s an intentional snub, just an oversight.”
“Good, because you would tell me if there was a problem at Able House, wouldn’t you?”
She laughed. “And rat on my friends? Not a chance.”
He shook his head but smiled. “You’re an interesting woman, Darcy. I have the feeling there’s a lot more to you than great food.”
“Well, there’s great coffee, too.”
Patrick chuckled. “Absolutely. Now, are you really ready?”
“Not really. Last night you told me that you needed me to let my light shine. I assume that means you want me to be an ambassador for Able House. But, as I tried to explain, I’m a pretty private person. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for the spotlight.”
That complicated things. Could he let this drop? Not when there was so much at stake.
“I respect your desire for privacy,” he said. “But Able House hasn’t had nearly enough time to prove itself to the world, and now I’m leaving. The timing isn’t great, but it can’t be helped. My overseas project has been in the works for five years, long before the opportunity to create Able House came about. Before I go, I have to make sure Able House’s standing in the community is solid.
“That’s a necessity. The people in the neighborhood have to grow comfortable with the residents of Able House, to think of them as contributors and assets. And yes, it’s unfair that Able House should have a higher bar than the other locals do, but fair or not, you and your fellow residents have to show the community that the project wasn’t a mistake.”
The hurt, angry look in her eyes got to him. How many times had she been forced to prove herself to others?
Patrick could see the strain this conversation was having on her. Her face was pale, her body rigid.
“I’m not the only resident,” she told him.
“No, but you’re going to be my connection to everyone else.”
“The directors?” she asked.
“Are directors. They don’t have an in like you do. Caring as they are, they’re outsiders. They don’t live your life. They don’t really know what it’s like to be you. And neither do I. Besides, didn’t you tell me that you were a police officer, a public servant? Darcy, you can still do something like that, but instead of chasing bad guys, you’ll be serving Able House and this community.”
While the kitchen clock ticked away, she sat there, looking angry and rebellious and sad all at once.
“You don’t exactly fight fair,” she said.
“My sisters would agree with you.”
She tilted her head. “Were you a tough guardian?”
“A total bully.”
“And not very truthful,” she said with a small smile.
“Ah, the lady wants truth? All right, I let them twist me around their fingers all too often, but not when their well-being was at risk. You’ll help?”
Slowly she nodded. “I don’t really have a choice. Able House is special. In the short time it’s been here, most of us have bonded. It’s our home.”
He held his hand out in a gesture of acceptance. “I promise I’ll fight for you while I’m here.”
This time when he held out his hand, she took it. Patrick had meant it to be a symbolic gesture, a joining, the beginning of a pact, but as she lay her slender hand in his and the pads of her fingers slid against his palm, every nerve ending in his body switched on. He was aware of her in a way he hadn’t been only seconds earlier. She was no longer just a compelling, interesting woman and a great cook, no longer just his bridge to the residents of Able House. She was a flesh and blood woman who drew him in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge.
He let her go as they began to move down the path toward the gardens.
“So, what do you want me to do?” she asked.
“Fill me in on your background and what life is like for you now. Give me a tour of Able House. I’ve been there, of course, during the building stages and at the opening ceremonies. But I’ve stayed away since the residents arrived. It’s your home, not an institution. I haven’t wanted to intr
ude.
“I am aware that some of the neighbors haven’t been welcoming, and…now, after meeting you and given my upcoming departure, I’d say I dropped the ball.”
“We’re fine,” she said.
Not true. There had already been problems with a couple of neighbors who didn’t seem to understand or to want to understand how great a barrier their parked cars posed when they placed too many vehicles on the driveway so that they stuck out over the sidewalk. Or that sprinklers that overshot the grass and hit the walkway would soak anyone rolling past. They’d been parking their cars like that for years. They’d never had to think about the impact of how they positioned their sprinklers and they resented having to change their habits for people they hadn’t wanted in the neighborhood in the first place. Patrick had heard their complaints many times, and he was beginning to think that what might originally have been unconscious rudeness and laziness had become, to some extent, a form of harassment. There was still a sense that Able House would drag down property values and decrease the elite atmosphere of the neighborhood. That kind of resentment wasn’t easily overcome.
“Darcy, the plan was to integrate you so deeply into the neighborhood that you become a necessary part of the whole. That would help Able House become a springboard for similar residences. But, to achieve that you have to be visible, not flying under the radar. I’m sorry if we didn’t make that clear when you moved in.”
“People in wheelchairs often fly under the radar.”
He held up his hand. “I would never say that I understand your life, your experiences or how you feel. I don’t and I can’t, because I haven’t lived your life, but I know this much. Your legs may not work the way they used to, but other people with functional limbs lack your talent. Hiding that talent would be a mistake.”
She frowned.
So did he. “A mistake,” he repeated. “Living at Able House comes with strings attached. It isn’t a retreat. Retreats are fine. They have their place, and we all need to hide away now and then, but Able House is your job as well as your home, and your job requires you to go forth and be visible. All right?”
Hired: The Cinderella Chef Page 2
