Those good qualities that had finally made an appearance almost compensated for all the things about him that made me nuts…almost.
When he returned to the car he must have seen something on my face.
“What?” he asked as our eyes met.
“Nothing,” I replied. “Just drive.”
“You’re so bossy.”
With a smile, I pointed out, “I don’t hear you complaining.”
“What do you think this is?”
“Adoration,” I told him immediately, just to get on his nerves. Yes, it was immature of me, but so what? He’d gotten under my skin quite a lot since I’d met him, so it was only fair that I repay the favor.
He rolled his eyes. “Normally at this point I’d turn the radio on to drown out the sound of your voice, but we can’t wake him up,” he said with a nod in Joel’s direction.
“You mean to tell me you’ll spare me all your on-air lecturing if I bring him along to the show?” I teased. “I wish I’d known that sooner!” Then, lowering my voice to sound like Gavin’s, I began to imitate him. “I tell you to make truffles and you bring me…this? It looks like animal droppings! That’s right, it looks like shit!”
Gavin chuckled. “To be fair, I didn’t say that to you. I said it to the last guy I sent home, whatever his name was. And the only reason I prattle on and on is because the network makes me. It’s in my contract.”
“To be fair,” I pointed out, “truffles kind of do look like animal droppings.”
He shrugged. “So what you’re saying is I was right.”
“No, what I’m saying is –”
“Shh,” Gavin shushed me with a devilish grin. “You’ll wake Joel.”
“I will not,” I retorted. “You just want the last word.”
“Shh!” Gavin insisted, laughing quietly as I scowled at him.
“This is me up here,” I told Gavin when we turned onto my street.
The apartment I’d rented wasn’t anything glamorous. In fact, it was quite old and somewhat run down. But it was in a safe neighborhood – something that had been non-negotiable as far as I was concerned – and for that, I paid a small fortune.
He came to a stop outside and turned the engine off. Then he held out his hand. “Give me your car keys. I’ll make arrangements to have a mechanic take a look at that engine first thing tomorrow. I know a guy.”
“I’ll look after it myself, thanks.”
“You’re filming all day tomorrow,” Gavin pointed out. “When will you have time to take care of it? I don’t need to be on set until late afternoon. Let me take care of it for you.”
I hesitated. I knew he was just trying to help, but I couldn’t let him. Telling him the truth was a little embarrassing but what other choice did I have? He was relentless in his quest to help me. If I didn’t set him straight he’d just keep pushing. I took a deep breath. “The truth is I don’t have the funds to get my car fixed right now,” I told him. “I guess I’ll be buying a bus pass.”
He looked at me knowingly. “Can you afford that?”
I peeked into the backseat to make sure Joel was still fast asleep before answering. He was almost certainly too young to understand even if he did overhear, but I was determined to protect him from grownup worries at all costs. “Not really, but I’ll figure something out.”
The stress of trying to stretch my budget to impossible lengths and the pressure of competing on the reality TV show was starting to get to me. I willed myself not to break down. There would be time for that later, when Joel was tucked into bed. Then I could lock myself in the bathroom, run the shower and cry all I wanted.
But I wouldn’t do that here…not in front of Gavin.
His hand closed around mine and he squeezed it reassuringly. “I’ll foot the bill for your car.”
“You don’t give handouts,” I reminded him, my breath catching in my throat as I pulled my hand away from a touch that had immediately ignited sparks within me. “And besides, I don’t want a handout.” I didn’t want to be his – or anyone’s – charity case.
“It isn’t a handout,” he told me as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You work for me. How are you going to get to Palate without transportation? If I didn’t have your car fixed it would be my loss considering you’re the best employee I have.”
“Oh don’t exaggerate. I’ve only just started working for you.” Maybe that wasn’t the most articulate or appropriate response to what he’d just offered to do, but the words just tumbled out.
“You have,” Gavin agreed. “And yet you’ve already changed my recipes, called me out on being unwilling to change and put a rude customer in his place. Hell, you’ve put me in my place. Most of my employees are good at taking orders. You’re not.”
“Is that a compliment?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Yes. You’re not good at taking orders but you’re great at giving them. You’ll make an excellent and very capable restaurateur one day, Mina. In the meantime, I need somebody like you to challenge me every so often. I don’t want to lose you. So let me have your car fixed. Please?”
What a strange turn of events. Who’d have thought I’d end the night sitting outside of my apartment with my boss begging me to let him pay for my car repairs? But how could I say no?
The answer was simple: I couldn’t. I prided myself on being self-sufficient but not even my pride could take priority over ensuring that my son was provided for. So as I dropped my car keys into his outstretched hand, I said the only thing that came to mind.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Gavin replied immediately. “I thought I was going to give you a cooking lesson tonight but you ended up teaching me a thing or two. It caught me by surprise, but then you have a way of doing that. I may have to get your take on how to bring new life to a few other dishes.”
As I watched him in the moonlight and listened to him speak, that urge returned. The urge to kiss him was strong…so strong I couldn’t resist it. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being dropped off after a fantastic first date. A kiss goodnight seemed fitting.
It was hard to tell who made the first move. Maybe he kissed me. Maybe I kissed him. All I knew was our lips brushed in a sweet, brief, unassuming kiss goodnight. It wasn’t particularly steamy or passionate, though I could feel the longing bubbling hotly beneath the surface. It was just an innocent display of mutual affection…with the lingering, whispered promise of more.
The kiss ended far too soon, leaving me on edge and wholly unsatisfied. I could tell by the way Gavin was looking at me that he felt the same way. I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth and nodded toward my sleeping son. “I should get him inside.”
Gavin reached down to unbuckle his seatbelt. “I’ll get him.”
My hand found his in the darkness and closed around it, silently telling him to stop. “I’ve got it,” I told him firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. “Goodnight.”
Why is it that a child seems so much heavier when asleep than when awake? The muscles in my back screamed in protest as I lifted Joel from the backseat, his head nestled into the crook of my neck as I hoisted him onto my hip and made my way inside. I knew I’d be sore in the morning.
It would have been easy to let Gavin help me. He was bigger and stronger than me. He carried Joel with such ease whereas it was becoming an increasingly difficult task for me. He’d wanted to help. But I couldn’t allow him to come into my apartment.
I didn’t trust myself.
My desire for Gavin burned so hotly that it frightened me. I didn’t know how much longer I could be in his presence and maintain self-control. In fact, my defenses were already down – our chaste yet desperate kiss proved that. It had felt like we were two people looking to get lost in one another, but I couldn’t allow that.
If I let Gavin in, there was no telling what might happen.
Chapter 08
I’d climbed the ranks in the competition.
&n
bsp; The following day found me back on the stage under the hot, blinding lights. This round’s challenge was to plan, cook and present a five course meal within an allotted time period using specific ingredients. It was a daunting task and at the end of it the contestants would be graded on a number of different categories including presentation, creativity and flavor.
The competition was stiff.
There were only four of us left standing and today one of us would be cut.
All of us were tense and exhausted by the time Gavin made his appearance to evaluate our efforts. In a way, it was art that we were creating…edible art. To be harshly critiqued on it was an intimidating thought for even the most stoic among us.
But when Gavin stepped out onto the stage, I immediately felt reassured.
He looked as good as ever, clean shaven and wearing a neatly pressed suit.
I, on the other hand, was a wreck. Sure, I’d been done up for television by the makeup artists, but that had been hours ago. I knew the producers of the show were trying to play up the suspense, so I guess they wanted us contestants to look haggard and slightly pathetic. Mission accomplished, I thought to myself wryly as I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead.
But when Gavin’s eyes briefly met mine, I didn’t feel haggard or pathetic. In fact his momentary attention seemed to reinvigorate me, breathing new energy into my aching body. I stood up straighter and brushed the flour off my apron as the host of the show talked into the camera in his absurdly cheerful Announcer Voice.
I tuned it out.
As the lights dimmed and the announcer threw to a pre-recorded interview, Gavin walked over to my work station and leaned in close. “I’d hoped to deliver your car to you this afternoon but it’s going to take a week or so for the necessary parts to come in. I’ll drive you home when we’re done here.”
“I need to pick Joel up from the sitter’s house.”
“Okay. I’ll take you.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you ready for this?” he asked me quietly, obviously referring to the competition.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied. It was tough to get a read on him. The previous night he’d been sweet and tender. Now it felt like Gavin Rothe the celebrity chef was back. There was a guarded quality to his voice that hadn’t been there before. I didn’t like it.
“I hope you brought your A Game,” he cautioned me. “You know I can’t give you any special treatment, right?” It was too dark to get a good look at him and his tone was such that I didn’t quite know how to take his comment.
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” I retorted immediately, insulted by the suggestion. I crossed my arms defensively. “And yes, for your information, I did bring my A Game. I always do.” It was true. I couldn’t afford to have an off day…not when my son’s future was dependent upon winning the competition and the money that came with it.
“Good. I hope you’re right.”
As the pre-recorded interview wrapped up and the lights came back on, Gavin strolled over to the host to say a few words. He moved like he owned the stage, and when he leaned down to talk into the microphone, the audience hung on his every word.
Love him or hate him, there was no question that Gavin Rothe was a star.
The show went on around me, but I was numb. Gavin did his job, spending considerable time evaluating the other contestants’ creations. He spoke at length with each of them, interviewing them in his characteristically abrupt and authoritative manner. At some point he did the same to me. Looking back, I had no recollection whatsoever of what he’d asked me or what I’d said. I’d been operating on autopilot.
“Mr. Rothe, do we have a decision?” the host asked some time later as drumrolls sounded in the background. The familiarity of it all jolted me back to the present. I knew this part well. It was the part I had dreams – and nightmares – about. It was the part where one of us contestants would be laid on the chopping block.
“I do,” Gavin replied, sounding as confident as ever.
He said some other things, the mandatory comments about how we’d all put in a good effort and he was proud to be our judge and mentor. The words didn’t sound like his. It was probably some contrived speech he was contractually obligated to recite, I reasoned. I’d come to learn quickly that virtually nothing shown on television is real – least of all, so-called reality TV.
“Janessa,” Gavin said, addressing the young woman to my left. “I was impressed with your choice of menu, and your presentation was exquisite. But I think you and I both know that your crème brûlée left something to be desired. Cooking disasters can happen to the best of us, but unfortunately this is a competition and you only have one shot at impressing me. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to send you home.”
My heart went out to the young woman whose dream had just been crushed and I was grateful that Gavin had shown some mercy by letting her down easy. It had to hurt to be dismissed from the competition. It was a rejection I hoped I wouldn’t come to know firsthand.
But on the other hand, Janessa was young indeed – probably just barely in her twenties. Other opportunities would come her way. She was devastated now, but she’d pick herself back up and move on. I tried to focus on that thought so that I didn’t feel guilty about the huge smile that had lit up my face.
I was safe for another round.
And as a reward for progressing to the next level, the remaining three contestants would all be receiving a monetary bonus. It wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but it would keep my bills paid for another week.
And I was that much closer to the grand prize.
By the time my stage makeup had been scrubbed off and I climbed into Gavin’s sports car, my face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. The validation felt great. I didn’t consider myself to be an optimistic person – not after the past few years of my life. In fact, I was probably the opposite. But I could practically taste victory and was it ever delicious.
Driving with Gavin felt different today. Last night we’d had chaperones, even if they had both been sleeping. Today we were alone together. But different wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; I liked being close to him and I liked the quiet.
It was like Gavin and I didn’t need words when we were together. I wasn’t sure I’d ever had that with anyone else. Sometimes it was nice to just sit in silence, conversing without ever uttering a single word.
“You seem happy,” he observed.
“I am!” I hesitated and then asked, “Was it hard to decide who should go today?” That wasn’t what I really wanted to know, of course. What I was actually asking was whether he’d played favorites with me despite his warning that he couldn’t.
“Not really,” he replied. “Janessa’s crème brûlée was atrocious. The only hard part was sugar coating the rejection. I’d have liked to tell her it was the worst dessert I’ve ever tasted in my life, but I guess it’s only the music competition shows that want a villainous judge. I’m so glad to be off the stupid show with its absurd expectations.”
“Why did you sign up to be a judge if you hate it so much?” I asked, relieved that I’d retained my spot in the competition fair and square.
He shrugged. “I’m a celebrity chef. Being on TV is what I do.”
“That’s not really an answer,” I pointed out.
“Maybe it’s not the answer you wanted me to give, but it is an answer,” he insisted as he pulled out of the studio parking lot. He was being argumentative again. Maybe that would be okay if I was passive and easily dissuaded. But that wasn’t me. If anything, when he got that way, it just made me more determined to make my point.
I tried again. “Aren’t you past the point of doing things you despise? I mean, your restaurant is wildly successful. If you’ve had enough of the TV shows and producers and contracts and scripts, then why not leave it behind? I know it’s none of my business, but everyone knows you’re rich…you must be set for life by now, no?”
&nb
sp; “Sometimes it isn’t about the money,” Gavin pointed out. God, even when he was being irritating and vague, he was sexy. What did it say about me that I got turned on by arguing with him? Maybe he wasn’t the only one with issues!
After considering what he’d said for a moment, I relented. “Okay, fair enough. But if it isn’t about money then what’s it about? Do you do it for the fame?” I guessed.
“Fame?” he repeated with a snort. “No. Hell no. If you must know, it’s about spite.”
That was an answer I hadn’t been expecting. I raised an eyebrow and looked at Gavin inquisitively, but he stared straight ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “I’m not sure I understand,” I told him when he refused to meet my gaze.
“It’s better if you don’t.”
Chapter 09
That Wednesday had been a long time coming. It was my first day off in…well to be honest, between filming the television show and working at Palate, I couldn’t even remember when I’d last had a day to myself.
On Tuesday night I let Joel stay up late, happy to finally be able to spend time with him. We’d played games and eaten snacks and giggled well into the night. By the time I’d put him to bed he’d been completely tuckered out. Hopefully that meant he’d sleep late so that I could as well.
Mmm, could I use a day to sleep in!
As it turned out, I woke up promptly at 6 o’clock in the morning. My internal alarm clock couldn’t be shut off, it seemed. But I didn’t mind too much. It was a nice treat to be able to lie there in bed and not have to get up. Instead I could snuggle up under the blankets and let my mind wander.
So I did.
Tellingly, my thoughts immediately turned to Gavin Rothe, the infuriatingly mysterious man I couldn’t quite figure out no matter how hard I tried. Oh, did I ever want him. I’d replayed that damn kiss of ours over and over in my mind until it had taken on a life of its own. Now, I wished he was right there in bed next to me, his lips grazing mine just like they’d done in his car the other night.
Spicy (Palate #1) Page 6
