Recipe for Desire (6 page)

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Authors: Cheris Hodges

BOOK: Recipe for Desire
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Devon nodded and Marie started down the sidewalk, mumbling about how Devon should watch his tone when talking to her. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Devon zoomed from the curb in his red sports car. “He’s not all of that,” she mumbled as she headed back to the bar to finish her drink and call a cab.
 
 
Devon shook his head as he got behind the wheel of his classic Mustang. Marie Charles had been everything he’d thought she’d be—arrogant, pig headed, and stuck up. But there was something he hadn’t expected: She looked a lot better in person than she did on TV or in her mug shot. If he had to describe her skin, he’d say butterscotch smooth with chocolate-chip brown eyes. Though he wasn’t sure if her silky shoulder length auburn hair wasn’t a weave, it fit her perfectly. Especially the way her bangs skimmed her perfectly arched eyebrows. And that body, small waist, an onion booty, and curves that he’d be interested in riding if she wasn’t such a wannabe diva in her own mind. So what that she was well known in Charlotte; didn’t she realize that her little act only made her a big fish in a small pond? Maybe he should’ve told her not to come to the shelter at all and that she needed to find someplace else to do her community service. How would the women react to her? Moreover, was she going to bring that diva attitude with her? He could immediately see her clashing with Shay. And then there was Bria; she already had so much she was dealing with. Would Marie push her deeper into her shell?
Maybe Marie’s bark is worse than her bite. Hopefully she will come in, do her work, and get along with the women. They could learn a lot from her, if she’s willing to share,
he thought as he headed to his loft.
Hopefully, this won’t be the disaster that I think it will be.
Chapter 6
Marie smiled sweetly at the cab driver and offered him a sizable tip for driving like a normal person as he stopped in front of The EpiCentre. She was only a block away from her home and decided to walk so that she could wrap her mind around her encounter with Devon. Looking up at the glowing building, her mind wandered back to the night of the party. She’d acted like a fool, and if she was honest with herself, she’d admit that she had been simply following a well-defined pattern. Self-destructive behavior. That’s why she’d started dating William and accepted his engagement ring, because she knew the relationship had no chance of going anywhere. Marie was afraid of love. She didn’t want to feel the pain that her father carried on his broad shoulders since her mother died. She knew that love didn’t last forever. William had been a means to an end. He’d given her father the illusion of his daughter being that proper Southern woman he’d always talked about.
Truth of the matter was, Marie didn’t want to work hard at love only to find herself hurt in the end. She’d ruined relationships that would’ve been meaningful, much to the ire of those closest to her. Adriana had labeled her as
Le saboteur
and even had a T-shirt made for her with the French saying on it.
“Marie?” Adriana said as she approached her friend. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just leaving a meeting,” she said, then looked at her friend closely. Adriana was wearing a brand-new pair of Louboutins. “I guess you made it to Neiman’s.”
“What happened to you? We waited for ...”
Marie shook her head and threw her hand up. “I don’t even want to talk about it. I’m starting my community service in the morning.”
“Wow. What will you be doing? Picking up trash or something?”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Adriana sighed and shook her head from side to side. “Are you mad at me or something? I take no pleasure in your misfortune.”
“Why would I be mad? I mean, my best friend is pushing me out of the business that I created.”
Adriana stroked her short curls and cocked her head to the side as Marie ranted. “That’s what you think I’m doing? I’m trying to save our business, Marie. People don’t want to work with us because of you. But don’t you worry, I’m still lining up clients for us. You’re still getting paid; just what are you angry about?”
Marie sighed. “Adriana, I’m sorry. This is new to me, being a pariah in my city. People think I endangered lives by driving drunk, and it was just an accident with a nervous little girl driving. I told Hailey I would keep her out of trouble because I thought I’d get out of this without a scratch.”
“I guess you haven’t heard about William,” Adriana said quietly.
“What about that bastard?” Marie asked with a snort.
“He and Greta are back together. They’re getting married again.”
For a brief second, Marie was angry. Then she made peace with it. “Those jackasses deserve each other.”
“Thank the Lord! You’ve come back to your senses! So, you’re not going to go after them and do something else crazy, are you?”
“I don’t give a damn what William does or that he’s going to remarry that woman,” Marie said. “I’m done with the lame men of Charlotte anyway.”
“Where are you heading now? Want to grab a drink at Whisky River?”
Though Marie wanted to pump Adriana for more information about what people were saying about her, she said no. “I have to go home. The guy who’s over my community service is a hard ass, and he’s already laid down the law about me being late. And I have to prove to him and Richard the third that I’m trying to learn a lesson.”
“That’s great,” Adriana said. “Want a ride?”
“Hell yes! And I hope you have some shoes for me in your trunk.”
Adriana frowned. “Come on, now. Do you think I would forget my best friend?” The women headed to Adriana’s car in the parking deck, but Marie wasn’t thinking simply about the shoes; she couldn’t get Devon Harris off her mind.
Was he really that altruistic, helping those women because it was the right thing to do? Maybe he had something going on with one of them or the director of the place.
Why do I care with whom the chef is dipping his spoon? All I have to do is perform the community service and then I’m out of there. Still, there has to be something behind why he’s so dedicated to that shelter. Maybe it will be fun to uncover and expose his judgmental ass.
“Marie,” Adriana said as she popped the trunk of her car open. “Did you hear me?”
“What? Huh?”
“I said, the two boxes on the right are yours. What are you plotting over there?”
Marie shrugged as she picked up one of the shoe boxes. “I was thinking about something. You know who I met with earlier?”
“Your community service supervisor, and?”
“It was Devon Harris.”
Adriana’s mouth dropped open. “The Devon Harris from the Food Network? Is he as fine in person as he is on TV? I watch that show just to see his sexy behind. Nothing like a smooth black man who can cook and look that good at the same time. Between him and G. Garvin, I love cooking shows. You’re lucky to be working with him.”
“Lucky? To be stuck in a homeless shelter with him? He was insufferable,” Marie said. “I don’t care how unbelievably sexy he is, I’m not going to allow him to treat me as if I’m some derelict.”
“A derelict? Well, I guess you can understand why he would feel that way,” Adriana said.
Marie shot her friend a chilly look. “That’s not the point. He was talking to me as if I was some hood rat with a mile-long criminal record. I’m Marie Charles, he’d better recognize it.”
“That’s right, so you have to show him who you are and who knows what will happen after that. Knowing you, he’ll be eating out of your hand once this thing is over.” Adriana and Marie climbed into the car.
“I want to uncover why he’s so into taking care of the people at this shelter. Now, he claims that he’s not doing it for the ratings on his show, but no one is that caring. Not in Charlotte and not for nothing. So, the more he treats me like garbage, I’m going to dig until I find his secret.”
“What if there isn’t a secret?”
“Then maybe I’ll let him buy me dinner,” Marie said with a laugh.
“Better still, let him cook you dinner,” Adriana said. “So, how are you going to find out what his secret is, Nancy Drew?”
“I figure something out,” she said. “Even if I have to be sugary sweet to him.”
“You, sugary sweet? Please let someone have a video camera around when this happens.”
They took the short drive to Marie’s home in silence, and Marie tried to wrap her mind around what Devon Harris was really doing. She had to get her plan ready, arrive at the shelter on time, cozy up to Devon, and pretend that she was interested in whatever was going on there and watch how he interacted with the women. Then, if there was something unsavory going on, she’d use it to her advantage.
“How long will you be at the shelter?” Adriana asked when she pulled up to Marie’s building.
“Until after lunch. Why, what’s up?”
“Well, we need to talk about some of the campaigns we still have, and we need to caress some of our clients, who Greta’s trying to poach.”
“What?”
Adriana nodded. “I know we can’t have you out front being the face of the company right now, but I think you need to help me make some of the phone calls.”
“Glad you’ve admitted that you can’t do this without me. I’ll call you when I’m done at the shelter and we can get busy. I’ll be damned if Greta actually takes something from me that I actually want.”
Marie gave Adriana a brief hug and then headed inside to get herself together for her first day with Devon.
 
 
When Devon woke up the next morning, he realized that he needed to stop by the restaurant before heading to the shelter, because he had to take a look at the setup for the show. When it came to doing live shows, Devon was a bit OCD. Today he would be cooking in front of an audience for the first time since he’d been filming the show at Hometown Delights. He was thankful that Alicia, Serena, and Jade were as excited about the filming as he was. Of course, Serena wanted a seat in the front row, although he wasn’t sure why because she still couldn’t cook.
Now he was regretting that he’d told Marie to come to the shelter today for her community service, since he’d told the ladies who took his class that they could come to the taping. How did he forget that? It was probably because Marie Charles had pissed him off with her haughty attitude and her accusation of him volunteering for ratings. He didn’t understand why he was so offended by Marie’s charges. Serena had suggested the exact same thing when he first told them that he’d be working at the shelter. Alicia had told him that he was working at the shelter because of his poor dating luck. There was something about Marie, though, something that infuriated him as much as it turned him on. She was sexy, there was no denying it. But she was everything that he was trying to get away from. Now, he was going to be working with her every day. If he was lucky, she’d prove him wrong and not be the diva that he assumed she was.
He took a quick shower, dressed, and headed to the restaurant to check things out. Looking at his watch once he entered the restaurant, he saw that he was going to be late getting to the shelter if there were problems on the set. The crew, to Devon’s pleasure, had everything under control, turning half of the bar into a cooking area.
“What’s up, guys?” Devon said to the crew.
“Hey, Devon,” the producer, Noah Clark, said. “Came to check things out, huh?”
“Yes, I can’t remember the last time I cooked in front of an audience, and I have some special guests coming.” Devon looked out at the seating arrangements. “We need to add some more seats.”
“Yes, sir,” Noah said, then spoke into his radio for someone to bring chairs. Devon walked around the side of the bar and checked out the cooking equipment. Everything was in place and he was worrying for nothing. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that if he left now, he’d make it to the shelter on time. “Noah, I’m leaving this in your capable hands. But I need another electric skillet over here.”
Noah shot him a thumbs-up sign as Devon headed out the door. When he hopped into his car, he ran right into a traffic jam. This wasn’t going to look good.
Why am I worried about impressing her?
he thought as he sat in the traffic.
 
 
Marie stood in front of My Sister’s Keeper with her hands clenched in angry fists. This man lectured her about being on time and she was five minutes late and he still wasn’t there. She rocked back on her Jimmy Choo heels as her resentment grew. “That jerk,” she groaned as she started pacing back and forth. “He’d better give me credit for every minute that he was late.”
A young woman walked toward Marie and stopped short when she seemed to realize that she didn’t recognize her. “Ma’am,” she questioned as she gave Marie a cool once-over. “Are you lost?”
“No,” Marie said. “I’m here to do some consulting with Devon Harris, but he seems to be running late.”
The woman looked down at her watch. “He is a few minutes late. Would you like to come inside and wait? All you had to do was ring the doorbell and they would’ve let you in.”
“So, you work here?” Marie asked.
“No. I live here,” she replied as she punched a code in the front door and opened it.
“But you look so ...”
“Honey, what did you think we were going to look like here?”
Marie honestly couldn’t answer that question because all she had been focused on was seeing Devon again. She glanced at the woman again. She didn’t look like what Marie thought homeless women would look like: tattered clothes, dirty and matted hair, and holey shoes. This woman looked like someone she’d pass on the street, neatly dressed, hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she was smiling. Marie didn’t expect to see smiling faces in the shelter, that was for sure. The woman at the front desk motioned for Marie to sign the visitors’ registry.
“I’m here to work with Devon Harris,” she said.
“Oh, you’re the lady who’s on probation? I’m Lydia Thompson; I run the front desk. Mr. Harris called and said he’s sorry that he’s running late.” Lydia opened the desk drawer and handed Marie a folder. “This is for your time sheets so that you won’t lose them.”
“When is he getting here?” Marie asked. “I don’t have all day to wait for him.”
“The wait is over; I’m right here,” Devon said from behind her. His baritone voice made her shiver. Whirling around, she drank in his wickedly sexy image clad in a white T-shirt showing off his sculpted arms and his blue jeans that hugged his thighs. Boxers or briefs? she wondered as her eyes roamed his body.
“Well, you’re late,” she said, her voice taking on a breathless tone.
“Yes, and I apologize, but we have a busy day. Our lesson is going to be short today because I’m taking the ladies to a taping of my show. I’m going to need you to help with transportation.”

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