Recipe for Desire (8 page)

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Authors: Cheris Hodges

BOOK: Recipe for Desire
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“Don’t do that,” he called out. But Alicia ignored him and crossed over to Marie. Devon stopped in his tracks and shook his head as he watched Alicia place her hand on Marie’s shoulder to get her attention.
 
 
“Hi, Marie. I’m Alicia Michaels, one of the owners of Hometown Delights.”
Marie, who’d been watching the conversation between Alicia and Devon, gave her a cool once-over before extending her hand to her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here. I’ve heard a lot about you, but we’ve never met,” she said. “And we do a lot of the same things.”
“Excuse me?” Marie asked, convinced that Alicia and Devon had something other than a business relationship. “What do you mean by that?”
“You run M&A Events, right? I’m handling marketing for the restaurant while Kandace Crawford is out,” Alicia said, raising her eyebrow at Marie’s defensive tone.
“Oh, right,” she said. “I guess marketing this place is easy with Devon on board with you guys.”
“He does make a lot of people forget some of the less appetizing things that have happened here,” Alicia said honestly.
“There have been some nasty events here,” she said.
Alicia nodded. “Hopefully, that’s all in the past.”
“You and Devon seem close,” Marie said, struggling to keep her voice cool.
“Yes, we’ve known each other for years,” she replied. “So, how are you enjoying working with him?”
Marie tried to hide her smile, but Alicia saw it. “Today is my first day working with Devon, but I’m sure it will be interesting.”
Alicia smiled. “I bet it will be. I hope you’ll come by for dinner one day,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll get a seat at the chef’s table.”
“I will do that,” Marie replied.
Devon crossed over to them, hoping that Alicia wasn’t asking Marie the same questions that she’d asked him.
“Excuse me,” Devon said. “Marie, can you get the ladies together so that I can give them a tour of the kitchen?”
“Sure,” she said with a tight smile as she noticed the glances he and Alicia exchanged. Was there something going on between them? As she gathered the women together, Marie watched Alicia and Devon talking. She was convinced that they were sleeping together. But when he jogged over to her, smiling as he placed his hand on her shoulder, and said, “Thanks, Marie. You’ve been a big help today,” all she could think about was how much she’d love to sleep with him.
Chapter 8
After Devon showed the women from My Sister’s Keeper his actual work environment, he allowed them to help with some of the prep work for dinner, which they loved. When he saw Marie leaning against the wall, watching with a slight smile on her lips, he crossed over to her. “Not the excitement that you’re used to, huh?” he asked quietly.
“Nope, but it’s amazing how excited the ladies are about cooking. How long have you been working with My Sister’s Keeper?” she asked.
“About six months,” he said.
“They’ve taken a liking to you and obviously have learned a lot from your lessons,” Marie said. “That says a lot about you.”
“What does it say?”
“That you’re actually a man who does something to help other people just because. I thought you might have said something about them being in the audience and your volunteering with the shelter during the taping, and you didn’t. If you were one of my clients, I might have suggested that you do that.”
“I’m not in the business of exploiting people, I told you that.”
“And,” she said, “I didn’t believe you. People don’t usually prove me wrong.”
Devon took a slight bow. “Glad that I could,” he said with a laugh. “We’re going to head back to the shelter, but your time is up. So, if you want to head home ...”
“No,” she said. “I need to talk to Shay about something before I leave.”
Devon nodded and then walked over to the women, telling them that they were getting ready to wrap things up. Just like the professionals, the women washed their equipment, placed the clean knives in their proper places, and headed for the van. Marie walked behind them slowly, her feet throbbing and her ankle hurting even more. Devon noticed her slow gait. “Hey,” he called out. “Are you all right?”
“My feet and my ankle need some serious rest,” she replied. Devon scooped her up in his arms, and once again her heartbeat increased tenfold.
“Those shoes are going to be the death of a generation of women.” He laughed. Marie instinctively leaned her head on his shoulder, all the while thinking,
What in hell am I doing?
Devon sat Marie on the front row of the van and then took the seat beside her as the driver climbed behind the wheel and started the van. “Let me take a look at your ankle,” he said, reaching out for her leg.
Marie held her leg out to him, and he noticed that her ankle was swelling. “I think you need to go to the hospital,” he said. “After we drop the ladies off, I’m taking you to the hospital for an X-ray.”
“No, I’m fine,” she said, thinking that she needed to get to her meeting with Adriana about the calls that she was supposed to make. But when Devon touched her ankle and a ripple of pain tore through her body, she began to warm to the idea of going to the hospital. “All right,” she said. “Damn, that hurts.”
“I hope it isn’t broken and that you’ve learned a lesson.”
“A lesson?”
“Yes, sensible shoes,” he admonished. Marie couldn’t help but watch his lips and wonder what it would be like to have them pressed against hers.
“Is everything all right up here?” Shay asked when she saw Devon holding Marie’s ankle.
“No, she twisted her ankle and it’s swelling,” Devon said. Shay looked at her ankle and nodded.
“That might just be broken,” Shay said, her voice filled with concern. “Marie, how do you feel?”
“It only hurts when I walk or when it’s touched,” Marie replied.
“If you’d said something, I would’ve given you some ice to put on your ankle during the taping,” Devon said. “I’m going to take her to the hospital after we drop you guys off.”
Shay nodded and then winked at Marie. “Hope you feel better,” she said.
“Thanks,” Marie replied. When Shay returned to her seat, Marie pulled out her cell phone and called Adriana to tell her that she wasn’t going to make it in today. When she pulled the phone out of her purse, it tumbled to the floor of the van, and Devon leaned down and picked up the phone, his fingers brushing across her thigh as he retrieved the phone. Tingles vibrated through her body and made her heart beat like a Congo drum. He handed her the phone and smiled. Marie held the phone, forgetting why she’d been reaching for it to begin with.
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
“No problem,” he said, brushing his hand across her knee and resting it there. Marie inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. “Are you all right?” Devon asked.
“Yes,” she replied, opening her eyes in time to see that the van had arrived at My Sister’s Keeper.
Devon told Marie to sit tight in the van when it came to a stop. He and the ladies hopped out of the van. Marie watched him jog over to his car. She waited nervously, her body still tingling from his accidental touch. Since she was alone, she was able to think, and finally, she remembered that she was supposed to call Adriana. “Where are you?” her friend asked instead of saying hello. “I thought you would’ve been here hours ago.”
“Something came up,” she replied. “Or rather, went down.”
“Ugh, Marie, do I really want to hear this?” Adriana groaned.
“While I was at the shelter, I twisted my ankle. Now it’s swelling and Devon is taking me to the hospital.”
“Hmm, is this something you did on purpose?”
“Hell no! I scuffed my Jimmy Choos. Now, I may do a lot of things for attention, ruining shoes is not one of them.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t call nine-one-one when you saw the scuff marks, and have medics rush you to Neiman Marcus,” Adriana said with a laugh.
“Glad you find this amusing,” Marie said as she glanced out the window and watched the classic red Mustang pull up beside the van. “Look, I have to go.”
“Marie, I hope your ankle and, more importantly, your shoes will be all right,” Adriana said. “Call me when you leave the hospital and I’ll bring you something from Dish and we can talk about what you missed today. That is, if you don’t get a special meal from Devon Harris.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Marie said absentmindedly as Devon opened the door and scooped her into his arms. She hung up the phone and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“And before you say that you could walk,” he said, “just know that it’s a risk I don’t think you should take.”
“As much as my ankle is throbbing, I’m not going to argue at all,” she said as he sat her in the passenger seat of his car. “I will say one thing: I never took you for a Ford man.”
“Come on,” Devon said as he slipped behind the steering wheel. “This car is more than a Ford; this is a classic. Feel that leather, soft and supple, just like a woman’s cheek.”
Marie stroked the seat despite herself and then she burst into laughter. “What is it with men comparing cars to women all the time?”
“Because,” Devon said, “nothing drives us crazier than a beautiful woman or a fast car.”
“Is that so?”
“Don’t tell anyone I told you that. I broke all kinds of man code revealing that bit of information.”
Marie stretched her leg out and smiled. “What’s in it for me to keep this a secret? Do you know how many women would love to have that information? So, what happens when you see a beautiful woman driving a fast car?”
“That,” he said as he turned onto Trade Street, “I’m not telling you.”
“No fair,” she quipped. “You tell me a secret, I’ll share one.”
“Maybe another time,” Devon replied as he pulled into the emergency room driveway of Presbyterian Hospital. He hopped out of the car, crossed over to the passenger side, and lifted Marie from the car. She started to protest, to tell him that she could walk the short distance to the emergency room entrance, but she just relished feeling his arms holding her.
They entered the emergency room and a nurse rushed over to them with a wheelchair. “What happened?” she asked, looking from Marie to Devon. “Aren’t you Devon Harris?”
“Yes,” he said. “Miss Charles twisted her ankle and it’s swelling.”
The nurse nodded and wheeled Marie to triage. “Let’s get some paperwork filled out and then a doctor will see you,” she said to Marie while smiling at Devon. “So, how did you twist your ankle?”
Marie twisted her head to the side. “Are you talking to me or him?” she snapped.
The nurse looked down at Marie. “Sorry,” she said. “Anyway, how did this happen?”
“I slipped in the kitchen,” she said.
Devon pointed to her feet. “Wearing those shoes,” he said.
The nurse looked at Marie’s Jimmy Choos. “Nice. But definitely not shoes you should wear in the kitchen.”
“I know that now,” Marie mumbled, and Devon stroked her shoulder.
The nurse handed Marie an admission form and a pen, then turned her attention to Devon. “I watch your show every day. You look a lot better in person. I love Hometown Delights,” she said.
Marie cleared her throat and held the clipboard out to the nurse, who was starstruck beyond belief. “Excuse me,” Marie exclaimed. “I’m done.”
The nurse tore her eyes away from Devon and gave Marie a perfunctory smile. “All right,” she said. “A doctor will be with you shortly.” Devon gripped the back of Marie’s wheelchair and pushed her out into the waiting area.
“Does that happen a lot?” Marie asked once they were out of the nurse’s earshot.
“What?”
“Women fawning all over you? You know why you’re every woman’s dream?” she asked. “The way you guys feel about women and fast cars, that’s how we women feel about men who cook and do dishes.”
Devon laughed, thinking how many times he’d heard that. “I hope you don’t think that counts as your secret.”
“Why doesn’t it?”
“You think I haven’t heard that before?”
Marie shrugged. “Maybe not,” she said. “But it is a secret, so it should count.”
“Nope.”
She pouted for a second and then smiled at him. “You know, we could be in here for hours. You don’t have to stay here. I’m sure you have something better to do.”
“If I did, I’d be doing it,” he said. “I can’t let you get hurt on the first day. We’re going to need you at the shelter.”
Marie nodded, secretly wishing that Devon was there with her because he was simply concerned about her injury. But why would she expect him to have genuine feelings about her, especially after the rocky start they had?
Devon watched Marie as she sat in silence. He wondered if he had been wrong about her being a wannabe diva. Then again, she was in pain, and injury changed everyone’s attitude. Still, he was able to drink in every detail about the ebony beauty now. Her skin reminded him of his favorite brand of chocolate, Domori Puertofino. Her kisses were rich and sweet like the chocolate he used in his famous
gâteau d’amoureux
, or lovers’ cake. He created the decadent cake while in Paris studying with famed Parisian chocolatier Michel Chaudun, who had taught him how to use all kinds of chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Paris had been on his mind a lot lately. Ever since his agent told him that there may be a chance for him to return to the city he loved because the Food Network in France was looking to expand their original programming. Until there was a concrete offer, he wasn’t going to say anything to the ladies at Hometown Delights.
“Is everything all right over there?” she asked. “You’re mighty quiet.”
“Was thinking about something,” he said, looking directly into her dark eyes.
“Are you sharing?”
“Well,” he began, “you seem like a really nice girl. So, how is it that you end up in so much trouble?”
Marie bristled momentarily, wondering if he was trying to pass judgment on her. No, she wasn’t a sugary-sweet woman who needed saving. Better yet, she didn’t want to believe that’s who she was. Marie’s antics were over the top and—according to her father—ridiculous. But she was simply trying to break out of Richard’s shadow, something he didn’t understand. Maybe that was why she dated jerks like William, jumped in the fountain in the nude, and partied like a rock star. There was no maybe about it. That’s exactly why she did what she did. As she focused her thoughtful gaze on Devon, she simply shrugged. “I just go about doing things differently,” she said. “Not everyone agrees with what I do.”
“Parents?” he asked, fully understanding where she was coming from.
“Father,” she said. “My dad doesn’t think what I do is a real job, and he definitely doesn’t like how I grab attention and headlines.” Marie laughed hollowly. “But if you don’t make a big splash, you just get ignored.”
“That’s not true. And you don’t need that kind of attention.”
Marie cocked her head to the side. “I’m not trying to be rude, but why do you think Hometown Delights is full every night? Two reasons: you and the bad press.”
“I’d like to think that the food and the service have more to do with our success than the unfortunate incidents that took place at the restaurant,” Devon said as he folded his arms across his chest.
“Well, Alicia invited me for dinner, so I’ll have to give you my assessment after I find out if I can walk without pain,” she said.

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