by Abby Knox
And now she was walking toward him carrying a platter of something that smelled delicious, and he was starving.
The chattering Barbie doll fangirl hanging on him finally shut up when Vann took an appetizer off of GiGi’s platter and handed it to her. The fangirl looked at him and giggled, “Oh, I can’t eat that. I haven’t eaten meat or bread in five years.”
Vann looked from her to GiGi and back at her. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”
“Candi with an ‘i.’”
“Candi-with-an-i, it was nice to meet you. Thanks for watching. I hope you have a wonderful time at the party, and now I have to talk business with the chef here.”
Candi eyed GiGi resentfully and clomped away in heels that were about two inches too tall for comfort.
GiGi looked at him and smiled. My god, he would do anything just to have this woman smile at him like that and bring him food every day.
He winked at GiGi as he picked up another pig in a blanket and said, “Imagine not eating meat or bread. Why do you even watch a cooking show? Why be a fan of someone who’s clearly a carnivore?”
GiGi smirked. “I can’t even imagine why that would be.”
Then the taste hit him. It was a maple and cardamom-infused mini pancake wrapped around pork sausage with a natural skin and goat cheese. “Oh good god. Did you make this?”
“Yes, why?”
“This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. Do you do your own casings?”
“Yes, I do.”
Vann thought he might orgasm right there in his pants.
“How are you even able to do that in that teeny tiny restaurant?” he asked.
GiGi’s eyes widened. “You know my cafe?”
He blurted out, “Sure! I eat there all the time!”
GiGi eyed him suspiciously. “That’s not possible. There’s no way you would walk into my restaurant and my entire wait staff not alert me. They all have the hots for you.”
He blushed. Oh god, was he really blushing? “Yeah, I’ve gotten really good at disguises.”
“Oh. I’m still impressed you even know who I am by sight.”
Now he was almost busted, so he turned on the most charming television-worthy smile he could muster. “Well, I’m not gonna lie. I like your food so much I found out your name and then creeped on your Facebook page.”
She laughed. “Weirdo alert! Why not just friend me?”
He shook his head and shrugged. Fuck, this woman was busting his balls. It had been a while since anybody had dared to, but he kind of liked this. Who was he kidding? He really liked it. Finally he went with a half version of the truth. “Because I’m a weirdo and uh…I thought you were hot and I was content to just be obsessed with you from afar.”
Her eyes widened and she said, “Wow. And now that we’ve met in person?”
“And now I’m going to be a super creeper because I’m full-on obsessed.”
“Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. How does she do that and still look so sexy?
“Don’t believe me? You don’t know what it’s like to travel to foreign countries, feeling like a fish out of water, and then come home to a beautiful woman from your hometown, bringing you food on a silver platter. It’s true love for a man like me.”
Her mouth fell open.
Yeah, he knew this approach was over the top and an insane way to hit on a woman. But he had never not taken risks. And look where he was? All these risks had landed him an amazing job and right back here to his mate.
Before he could nail down a date night with this woman, Ash and his girl sidled up.
“Ash! Congrats, my man!” Vann’s pack buddy hugged him and they instinctively let out a howl together.
“Thanks, buddy. May I introduce you to my fiancée Rosemary DuChamps? By day, a kindergarten teacher at Saint Mary’s and by night, destroyer of men.”
Vann kissed her hand chivalrously. She said, “So nice to meet you, Vann. I see you’ve met GiGi, my dearest cousin and one of my oldest friends. She’s going to be doing the cakes and all the catering for the wedding. I see you’re enjoying her food already.”
Ash suddenly looked super awkward and then said, “Um, baby girl, I apologize. In my haste I asked Vann to have his people do the food. I feel like a right idiot.”
Shit. How do I fix this? thought Vann. Then, he came up with the perfect solution.
“GiGi, why don't you take the job, you need it more than I do.”
GiGi looked stung by his words and he realized what that sounded like. “That came out wrong…”
She put up her hand and pasted on a concrete smile. “No, no, it’s fine. I mean when you have Vann Fucking West at your disposal, how could you not accept his offer to cater your wedding? You’d be insane not to.”
Yikes. He had offended her and taken away a gig. He felt like a total piece of shit. This is how he repaid her, after months of her feeding his pathetic, hungry ass out in the back alley?
Rosemary broke in then. “Look. How about this? GiGi, we’ll have the rehearsal dinner at your cafe, and then of course you’ll do the cake.”
Ash nodded. “Sounds like a fair compromise to me,” he said.
Vann felt like such an ass. He could tell GiGi was still not happy but she was evidently going to roll with it.
“I’ll let GiGi call it.”
“It’s fine,” she said, her face unreadable.
“Think of it this way,” Vann said. “We’ll all be handling what we do best. You’re really a pastry chef at heart. I couldn’t stand to do the cakes anyway. I am not a dessert man, by any stretch.”
GiGi looked up at him and smirked. “You perhaps haven’t tasted my desserts yet.”
That he hadn’t. “Soon enough, angel face,” he said.
Chapter 5
GiGi
Later that week, the tourist crowds died down. The locals were coming back out of the woodwork, but slowly. Things were kind of quiet. On the one hand, it wasn’t good for GiGi’s ledger, but on the other hand, it gave her time to map out the wedding cake for Rosie and Ash.
They had both agreed to let her brainstorm ideas on her own, and then meet with them next week to tweak those ideas.
She sat in the half-empty dining room on a Friday afternoon with a Sharpie and some construction paper. She didn’t know why, she liked to draw out her pastry ideas this way. The staff bustled around her getting ready to open for dinner in two hours.
GiGi was finishing a sketch of a cake in the shape of Bourbon Street, with the street and buildings made of cake, and a little parade down the middle with molded chocolate people and musicians made of molded gilt chocolate. At the end of the parade would be the bride and groom, tiny representations of Rosemary and Ash, if she could manage that much detail. GiGi tapped her Sharpie to her lip when thinking about the things that would put it over the top. The street should look like brick. There should be the iron balcony railings made out of sugar-work. Ivy and floral vines draping down from the balconies. That would be tough, but GiGi was an expert flower sculptor.
As she looked up to gaze out the window in thought, who should walk by but Thor. Not the actual Avenger, of course, but Vann West and his flowing golden locks. And then he was stopping. Oh shit. And then he was looking through the glass, shielding the glare of the afternoon sun from his eyes with his hands. Shit, shit, shit. She had a mind to dart into the back office at the sight of him, but he had spotted her. It was too late.
He tried the door, but of course it was locked. She breathed in nervously as she rose to let him in. She could feel his eyes on her through the plate glass window as she walked.
“Hi,” she said, cracking the door open and letting him come in.
“Hi,” he said, smiling broadly at her. Damn him and those amazing white teeth, shocking blue eyes that seemed oddly familiar.
“Can I help you?”
“I have a proposal for you,” he said, stepping inside, his massive chest accidentally grazing her b
reasts.
She blushed and grinned stupidly as she locked the door again. “It’s a little early in the relationship for that, don’t you think? We haven’t even been on a date yet.”
“Well,” he said, “I meant a business proposal. I feel like an asshole about stealing the DuChamps-Boudreaux wedding out from under you. I know that would mean a huge payday for you. So how about I contract with your people. I pay them what I pay my people, I pay you what I pay my executive chefs. You won’t even have to do any work, you could just be a consultant for this gig.”
GiGI narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Having the upper hand.”
“Not at all, I came here to extend an olive branch. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other and I don’t want there to be awkwardness between us.”
She looked him up and down. He was wearing tight Levis and black Chuck Taylors. His hair was down, brazenly flowing over his giant biceps like he knew exactly how good he looked. His black Misfits T-shirt was too tight to be legal. Was he really expecting anyone to believe he was into that band? He’d probably had a personal assistant pick that up from Urban Outfitters or something.
Still, she couldn’t help but smile at that bad-boy grin on him. And he was right; they needed to clear the air. But she wasn’t going along with his terms. “You can keep the menu. I’ll handle the cake. Like we agreed last night. Frankly, I’m relieved that it’s all I have to focus on, so maybe then I can try to enjoy myself a little. It is my best friend’s wedding, after all.”
“OK, great. If that’s the way you feel,” he said.
“It is. And anyway, I wouldn’t want anybody else’s staff working on the cake.”
“You don't trust me?”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I heard what you said on that Foodie Network contest. During the pastry challenge, you said something about baking and desserts are for the lightweights and for people who can’t handle the rowdy crowds who work in the kitchen. You don’t have a love for flour, butter and sugar, then I don’t want you or any of your people touching that cake. Desserts are about love. Especially a wedding cake. I’m afraid there would be bad juju in the cake if it wasn’t made with a whole heart. It sounds kooky, but that’s how I feel.”
“Fair enough.” He hesitated. “I mean, I was heavily edited on that show, but OK. You got me.”
“Anything else I can help you with?” She was eyeing her work table and was itching to get back to her Sharpie and paper.
“Yeah, actually. I came here also to ask you on a date.”
So he was serious about that?
She must have looked surprised because he continued, “I did have a little too much to drink last night and I kind of spilled my guts. Hope I didn’t scare you off.”
GiGi thought about that. A dude who is basically living the life she wants to live and looks like Thor and compliments her food and stalks her on Facebook…when she has no life? How in the world would she be scared off by any of that?
“Sunday. We close after brunch. My days off are Monday and Tuesday, in case you’ve forgotten what restaurant workers’ schedules are like,” she said with a wink.
“I’ll pick you up Sunday afternoon. And wear something sexy. I want you out of those work clothes,” he said, scanning her crew shoes, black pants and ratty chef coat.
“I don’t own anything sexy so I’ll just have to show up naked under a trench coat if that’s all right with you,” she replied.
“Suits me fine. I’ll supply the whipped cream.”
“Better be homemade and made with love, TV Man.”
GiGi had no time to go shopping between Friday and Sunday, so Rosemary came to the restaurant to help GiGi pick through some of her clothes.
Rosemary waited in GiGi’s office while GiGi showered. Fortunately, there was a shower stall in the ladies employee restroom, from when the building used to be a boarding house of dubious repute. This might have been only a legend, but in New Orleans, anything was possible.
When she finished showering, Rosemary was waiting in her office holding up a light blue sheath dress with spaghetti straps.
“I don’t know…it’s awfully revealing,” GiGi said.
“GiGi, it has all the important bits covered. Plus, I have a feeling that dress ain’t staying on your body for long.” Rosemary winked at her.
“Rosie! You are nothing but trouble!” GiGi said, feigning scandal.
“Says you and everybody’s mama between here and Shreveport. Now put it on and let’s see what we got,” Rosemary said. “I am over-the-moon excited for you to be going on a date, let alone with a celebrity!”
GiGi rolled her eyes while Rosemary clucked at her and applied winged eyeliner. “Girl, will you hold still, I’m ’bout to stab you in the eyeball with this thing.”
“Sorry, Rosie,” GiGi said.
“So, listen,” Rosemary said, “There are things you need to know about Vann.”
GiGi chuckled. “Doesn’t everyone in the world already know everything about him? His re-runs are never not showing on the Foodie Network.”
“Well, it’s personal stuff. It’s not a big deal and he should tell you himself. He’s not a one-night stand kind of guy. He’s a lot like my Ash.”
GiGi blinked. “Who is having a one night stand? It’s our first date, we barely know each other, and also I’m pretty much still a virgin, so…”
Rosemary looked concerned. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea. If he tries to bed you, it’s a big deal.”
“Well, it’s a big deal to me, too. Listen, dating is supposed to be fun; you’re making it so intense. I always thought you were the fun cousin.”
Rosemary playfully slapped her on the knee and picked up an eyebrow pencil. “And don’t you forget it! I’m just beating around the bush, and I’m sorry. Maybe I should just go ahead and tell you.”
“Tell me what?” GiGi asked, eyes bugging at her cousin and best friend.
But before GiGi could get an answer, the blue-eyed, blond-haired massive rock star chef was darkening the door of her office.
Chapter 6
Vann
“Tell her what?”
Vann had overheard a part of the women’s conversation as he strode toward the back of the cafe. He said those words at the same time as GiGi was saying hers. The difference was, Vann already knew the answer.
“Vann!” GiGi said, noticing him in the doorway. There was that sweet smile of hers, now slightly dolled up with lipstick. He loved that face of hers bare, but she was just as lovely with a little makeup. Rosemary had done some little naughty wing thing with her eyes, and he liked it. She looked like a pin-up girl from the 1940s. Not sure it was completely GiGi’s style, but it was working for him.
“Maybe I’ll leave that to you, now that you’re here,” Rosemary said. “You have my blessing.”
Vann laughed. “So glad to hear that I have your permission to date whomever I please.”
Then turning back to GiGi, the only face that was of any interest to him right now, he said, “You were already locked up, but your server let me in. Sorry for barging in on your makeup sesh, but I couldn’t wait another minute to see you. Hope you’re hungry.”
On the outside, Vann’s house was an unassuming, tidy little restored bungalow in the Freret neighborhood of New Orleans, tucked into a row of similar homes, some turned into art galleries, some into bars and others as rental homes for Tulane students.
On the inside, GiGi could hardly believe this was really the home of a famous celebrity. It wasn’t because it was ostentatious or bachelor pad-looking. Totally the opposite of what she expected. She was surprised with how traditional and cozy it was. Against one long wall were built-in shelves filled with books. There was a reading nook in the window overlooking the neighborhood street. There was a cozy seating area with overstuffed couches, floor pillows, and antique side tables. There were touches of antiques everywhere but nothing ultramodern. No sports m
emorabilia. The kitchen was enormous, as she would have expected. Warm brickwork and a built-in brick oven in the wall, and a kitchen fireplace. “This house is…quaint!” she said.
Vann chuckled. “Thanks, I think. I wanted a soft place to land, where I could relax, and be a creative space but also good for raising a family. I’m not much for modern bachelor pad style.”
She goggled at the wall of books. “I can see that. I mean, I can totally see this room decorated for Christmas. No joke.”
He helped her slide off her coat, and one of the straps of her dress fell off her shoulder. His hand was warm as he fixed the strap back into place. “That’s what I was going for,” he said, huskily.
GiGi could feel his eyes on hers. His deadly serious gaze made her feel both unsettled and excited.
“I smell meat,” she said, glancing toward the kitchen area. I smell meat? Did those words just come out of my mouth?
Vann gestured for her to have a seat at the breakfast island, and then he took out of the warming oven a tray of appetizers to feed a family of five. She didn’t know what to try first.
GiGi settled on a smoked salmon and asparagus puff pastry thing. She pulled it apart just to check his technique, and could see the layers. This was fresh, and made with real butter. It melted in her mouth.
Oh my god, that is good. Then she felt his eyes watching her again. “Enough love in that for your liking?” he asked, pouring her a glass of wine.
“You win. You totally deserve the wedding contract.”
“I know.”
“Cocky much?”
“I worked hard to get here, and I’m not shy about claiming what’s mine. You should take a lesson. You’re a great chef and you should own that.”
