It had been, so it was easy to say so. He was stressed over the thought of losing this job because he loved it, honestly, and he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He’d been out of a commercial kitchen too long to go back, and what else did washed-up TV chefs even do?
“I’m glad you think so, because we’d like to offer you your first-ever five-year contract,” Marnie said.
Kai’s jaw dropped.
Five years?
That was longer than he’d even worked there. That was…
“Yes,” he said, without even needing to think. “What do I have to do?”
Donna returned with a table number.
“I’m guessing by the look on his face that you’ve told him,” she said, looking between Kai and Marnie.
Kai nodded. He was still stunned. Five years.
In five years he could have written a couple of cookbooks, too, and maybe even gotten a deal for a product line, and…
And if he played his cards right, he’d never have to worry about going home. Or finding something else to do.
This was a dream come true.
“I can’t thank you enough,” he said, because he really couldn’t. There were no words for how grateful he was. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes.
“You haven’t heard any of the details yet,” Marnie said, her eyes sparkling, a warm smile spreading across her face.
She wasn’t all bad, Kai decided. Terrifying, but not bad.
“First off, we want to give you an hour a week instead of the half-hour you used to get,” she said. “And audience feedback suggests they like it when you explain things. Some key words we’ve got for you are smart, knowledgeable, competent, and—you’ll like this one—sexy.”
The tips of Kai’s ears burned. He did like that one, though, even if he wasn’t sure it was one of the most important qualities in a chef.
It probably helped in a TV personality.
“So the current thinking is to capitalize on that. Our first pitch is for a series of twelve one-hour specials, each focusing on a different spice. You’d do three dishes with each one, and a few documentary-style segments in-between. Those would be on-location, either in local markets or restaurants. If the first series goes well, we’d go for a second one where you’d actually travel to the places they’re from or places they’re important. The finer details all to be negotiated.”
Kai’s head spun. It was exactly the series he’d dreamed of doing, way back when he’d first been convinced that he had a face for television.
It was literally a dream come true, and all he had to do was agree.
“Where do I sign?” Kai said, leaning out of the way as a waitress set a mug of sweet-smelling peppermint tea down in front of him.
Marnie chuckled. “We’ll have contracts drawn up by… ooh, let’s say Friday? Which will give you the weekend to read them yourself, and then you can check in with a lawyer or an agent if you want one. But there’s no catch, here. I believe our terms are one hundred completed hours of television over five years. That’s twenty completed hours a year. You could take half the year off, depending on how you decide to run your production schedule. Which we can also negotiate.”
Kai wrapped both hands around his mug of tea, his head still spinning with the idea of all this. It was such a good deal. He couldn’t wait to tell Wyatt about it.
“All of this sounds amazing and I really don’t have any reason to say no,” Kai said. “Seriously, thank you for the opportunity. Thank you for your faith in me.”
“Honey, advertisers are crawling over each other to pay for ten-second ad spots on the web player because of you,” Marnie said. “We’re ready to invest in talent like that. And we’re already putting out feelers for a book deal, based on the show, on your behalf.”
Kai laughed hysterically. He hadn’t thought the news could get any better.
He sipped his tea, giving himself a few moments to take all of this in.
Even Donna didn’t look like she was just tolerating him anymore.
And sure, they were both looking at him and seeing dollar signs, but this was his career. If making money for them was how he kept it, then he’d make as much money as they could possibly want.
“I can’t believe we had you hidden away for so long,” Marnie said. “You really are perfect for this job.”
Kai knew, obviously, that he had Wyatt to thank for all this. Wyatt had given him the confidence boost he needed, even if he’d initially done it by annoying the hell out of him. He’d turned out to be a wonderful, supportive co-worker.
And maybe a wonderful, supportive boyfriend? They hadn’t used that exact word, but Kai liked to think that was what they were to each other.
Once Marnie had offered him a few more details—each more exciting than the last—and they’d all finished their drinks, Kai walked away from the meeting with a grin on his face and a tight bubble of excitement in his stomach.
I have huge news, Kai texted Wyatt, unable to contain himself any longer. But I’ll tell you all about it in person at dinner tomorrow.
They were going on a real, in-public date this time, and Kai couldn’t wait for that, either.
Then I REALLY can’t wait to see you, Wyatt responded. Sure you can’t give me a hint?
Nope, Kai texted back, grinning to himself. He’d let Wyatt wonder until then.
When he told him, he wanted to see the look on his face.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wyatt wasn’t sure why he was worried about his meeting with Donna. After all, the show had been a success, hadn’t it? The last episode was still the most-viewed video of the week on the channel’s website. Broadcast ratings seemed good, too.
Nerves were probably normal. Wyatt didn’t like meetings that involved his future, even if they were theoretically going to go well. He just didn’t like uncertainty.
He was still wondering what Kai’s news was, and had been all day, but he hadn’t been able to get a hint out of him. He’d gotten lots of other things—suggestions about which nights Kai wanted to see him, for example, which had turned out to be all of them.
He’d also gotten ideas about what exactly they could do to each other, and in what positions, and a list of things Kai liked most about him that started with his cock and then ended up on sweet things like his smile and the way his hair stood up at weird angles in the morning.
But nothing about whatever big news he had, which meant it really was big, and maybe that was making Wyatt nervous, too. Kai didn’t seem to be about to break up with him or anything, so that probably wasn’t something he had to worry about either, but…
Maybe there was just something in the air.
He knocked on the door, stomach in knots, and waited for Donna’s soft come in before entering.
“Wyatt,” she said, looking up at him. “Take a seat.”
Wyatt glanced at the chairs, and hesitated.
“I really think it’s best if you sit down,” she added, pushing aside the paperwork she’d been reading.
Wyatt swallowed. His stomach tightened, and suddenly those nerves didn’t seem as completely baseless as he’d thought they were. Was this about to be bad news?
“I’ll stand,” he said. “It’s fine.”
Donna sighed, but met his gaze steadily. “There’s no easy way to say this. We’re not planning on continuing Hot & Sweet, and there’s nothing else coming up to offer you.”
The world tilted nauseatingly, and Wyatt suddenly wished he was sitting down.
“What?” he asked, having to fight to get his tongue to cooperate.
No more show? Nothing else on offer?
So he was being fired, then. Without even a thank you.
“I did want you to sit down,” Donna said. “It’s really nothing personal, we’re just looking to head in a new direction.”
“A new direction that doesn’t include me?” Wyatt asked, his voice sounding alien to his own ears. He still didn’t quite believe it, though the
sick feeling rocking in his stomach told him it was true, this was happening, and it was as bad as it seemed.
“Like I said, it’s nothing personal.”
“After the ratings we got,” Wyatt said. “After we did everything you told us to, after we went along with all that crap about what would make the show the most marketable, you’re just… canning it? And where the hell is Kai? Shouldn’t you be telling him this, too, or is that my job?”
It’d break Kai’s heart. He loved this job as much as Wyatt did, even if he liked to pretend he didn’t.
“Kai has a deal for his own show,” Donna said. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”
Wyatt had to close his eyes for a moment to stop the room spinning.
Yeah, he definitely should have sat down.
“His own show,” Wyatt repeated. “Without me?”
“Yep,” Donna said, and now there was the faintest hint of guilt in her voice. “Wow. I thought you guys had really hit it off. He didn’t say anything?”
“No,” Wyatt said, bitterness creeping up the back of his throat. “He didn’t.”
This was Kai’s huge news. The news was that he didn’t need Wyatt anymore, and he was going on to bigger and better things.
The news was that Wyatt had been a means to an end, and yeah, maybe he’d been fun to have sex with, but this wasn’t anything serious.
The news was that he’d been stupid enough to fall in love with the guy and now his heart was breaking.
Wyatt was going to be sick.
“I, uh,” Wyatt began, swallowing back bile. “I have to go.”
Donna nodded, obviously seeing that he was more than a little upset. She’d expected that, Wyatt figured, but she couldn’t have known why he was as upset as he was.
Losing his job was one thing.
Knowing Kai had thrown him under the bus? After everything?
That was something else.
His upbringing got him as far as, “thank you for, uh…” before he realized he really didn’t have a lot to be thankful for, here.
Even the way he’d been told wasn’t exactly letting him down gently. Maybe Donna thought it was polite to drag him all the way into her office, but he would have preferred to hear this at home. Or somewhere it wouldn’t matter so much if he cried.
He left without another word, deciding he was better off saying nothing than any of the things he wanted to say. The last thing he needed was to get himself blacklisted from the entire industry because he was mad at his…
Boyfriend?
Shit. He’d started to think of Kai like that, too. As his boyfriend. As someone he maybe even had a future with.
And Kai had taken the first opportunity to leave Wyatt in his dust. Climbed right over him to get to the next level.
It hurt, dammit. It hurt more than Wyatt would have believed it could.
He’d given Kai his entire heart, and this was what it was worth to him?
That was…
Wyatt sighed, pushing the door of the studio building open with more force than necessary.
It was fine. There wasn’t anything he could do about it, anyway.
Wyatt paused to get himself under control, fighting back the urge to burst into tears. He had a dinner date to get to, and he planned on getting some answers.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A broad grin spread over Kai’s face the moment he spotted Wyatt entering the restaurant they’d decided to meet at, excitement at telling Wyatt his good news welling up in his chest.
That lasted until he saw the look on Wyatt’s face.
“What happened?” Kai asked as Wyatt sat down, his stomach knotting up. He could feel the devastation rolling off Wyatt, the distress he was in. He wanted to reach out and fix it, or offer comfort if he couldn’t.
It hurt to see Wyatt hurting.
He was holding a slightly crumpled piece of lined paper in his hand, the kind that would have come from a notebook, and Kai wondered if that had something to do with it.
“Lost my job,” Wyatt said eventually, his voice wavering. “Donna brought me all the way into her office to tell me so.”
Kai’s mouth fell open, his heart starting to hammer in his chest immediately.
That couldn’t be true, could it? Everyone loved Wyatt. There must have been some mistake.
“Nice that you’re getting your own show, though,” Wyatt added. He sounded so bitter it made Kai flinch.
This was the first time Kai had heard anything like bitterness from Wyatt. It was ugly at the best of times, but on him it was even more awful than usual, the way he said it sticking in Kai’s throat and forcing him to swallow around it.
He’d never even thought to ask about what was going to happen to Wyatt, because he’d just known that Wyatt was going to be offered a similar deal, or at least his old show back, or…
Dammit.
He should have known. He should have known that if one of them was getting this deal, then it was at the cost of the other.
It had just seemed like such a good deal. He’d been waiting for the catch the entire time, and it’d never even occurred to him that this would be it.
Marnie probably didn’t even realize it was a catch, but Kai… Kai cared about Wyatt. Cared about him a lot, more than he had about anyone in a long time.
The last thing he wanted was to move his career forward at Wyatt’s expense. Not when Wyatt had been so much help, and so kind to him.
“I…” Kai began, not sure what to say. The way Wyatt was looking at him made him want to cry, and very little did that these days.
He could feel the corners of his lips tugging down, the catch in his throat, and he really didn’t want to burst into tears in public, but he could feel the panicky pressure of it building up inside him.
“Wyatt, I didn’t know,” he said, not sure there was much else he could say in his defense. That was it. He hadn’t done this on purpose, though he could see now that he should have thought about what it meant.
“Did you ask?” Wyatt’s voice trembled as he spoke, and Kai could hear his knee bouncing nervously under the table. He didn’t want to be having this conversation, either.
But it wasn’t like they could just pretend it hadn’t happened, could they? This was Wyatt’s career—his life at stake, here.
Kai had never felt like more of an asshole in his entire life.
“No,” he replied honestly. “No, I never thought to. I figured you were getting a deal like mine.”
“What’s the deal?” Wyatt asked, the words catching in his throat.
“Five year contract, a hundred hours all up,” Kai began. “Starting with one-hour specials, on, uh… on…” Kai paused to swallow, and then looked down at the table.
Did it even matter? The deal had thrown Wyatt under the bus. What had been Kai’s dream had suddenly turned to ash in his mouth.
He didn’t want this. Not at the cost of the most wonderful person he’d ever met.
Not at the cost of a man he’d desperately fallen in love with, who’d gotten him to where he was, who’d been kind to him even when he didn’t particularly deserve it, even after he’d been an ass way back in the beginning.
Apparently, nothing ever changed.
“Well, congratulations, I guess. Got what you wanted. Don’t have to work with me anymore,” Wyatt said, turning the paper he’d been holding over in his hands.
Kai looked up at his face again, despite the fact that it felt almost impossible to do so. “This isn’t what I wanted,” he said softly.
Wyatt sighed heavily. “Man, I dunno what to say. I’m happy for you, honestly, but… this comes at my expense. I deserved better. And you didn’t even think to ask what was going to happen to me, and I just… thought things were different between us than that. I thought we were friends at least.”
The words I love you bubbled up in Kai’s throat, desperate and painful, but he knew he couldn’t let them escape him. If he said that now, this was all over, forever. W
yatt would never forgive him for what would sound, to his ears, like Kai was just trying to manipulate him.
It wouldn’t sound true, no matter how true it was. Now wasn’t the time.
“I’m sorry,” Kai said, because that was the next best thing. He meant it, more than he meant most things, but it still sounded hollow even to his own ears. It wasn’t enough, but he had nothing else to offer.
“Yeah,” Wyatt said. “So am I.”
Kai shifted his weight uncomfortably, unsure what else to say.
Wyatt stood, and he could actually feel his heart breaking.
“This, uh…” Wyatt said, playing with the folded paper again. “This was for you. Might as well have it, I guess.”
He set it on the table in front of Kai, and then, without another word, turned and walked away.
Kai watched him go, and then stared at the door for much longer than he should have, biting his lip and trying not to let the tears welling up in his eyes fall.
Eventually, he picked up the paper and unfolded it.
Wyatt’s chocolate-chip pancake recipe, it said at the top, written out in a neat, flowing script.
1 1⁄4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon brown sugar
2 teaspoons white sugar
1⁄4 teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
½ teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1 cup milk
4 tablespoons melted butter
1 tsp vanilla extract (trust me)
1⁄3 cup chocolate chips
Measure everything out into a large bowl, except the chocolate chips
Grease and preheat a non-stick frying pan—trust me on the non-stick part
Fold together with a spatula, set the spatula aside
The batter should be thin enough to beat with a whisk, if it’s not, add some more milk, then beat it with a whisk until the color gets a shade or so lighter
The butter is not negotiable unless you replace it with peanut oil
Fold in the chocolate chips
Pour six-inch pancakes into the hot frying pan and cook until bubbles start popping on the side facing you—you know how to cook a pancake
Hot & Sweet Page 13
