The Perfect Dish (5 page)

The drowsy sparkle of her green eyes made him smile. Warmth spread through his shirt where her hand rested. She smelled sweet and spicy, just like the chocolates. “I’m thinking a little of both.”

She moved her hand from his chest and tugged at her skirt. “I guess I should switch to club soda.”

He offered her his arm and she took it as they started for the elevator. “You’re quite the gentleman for someone your age.”

“My age? Just exactly how young do you think I am?”

She shrugged. “Thirty-ish.”

“So we’re right around the same age then,” he teased. He knew better but a gentleman never guessed high.

“Hah! I don’t think so. I’m forty-fo—” She snapped her mouth shut. “I’m forty-ish.”

Forty-four, huh?
Damn. Forty-four was looking good. He laughed softly as he pushed the button for the elevator. “I’m thirty-two.” No point in lying. Every bit of press he got mentioned his age like it mattered.

“You’re just a boy,” she said.

“Oh really? Just a boy?” He let go of her arm, planted a hand on the wall behind her and angled closer. Every ounce of Texas male in him itched to prove otherwise. He’d love to show her just how wrong she was.

The doors opened and they got in.

She backed up against the elevator wall. “It’s a scientific fact that women mature faster than men. They’ve done studies that prove it.”

As soon as the doors closed, he tagged the stop button with the side of his fist. A man could only take so much. “That so?”

“Whoa.” She lurched sideways as the elevator stopped. “Yes, it’s so.”

“Well, if I’m so immature, you’ll forgive what I’m about to do.” He laced his fingers into her hair and tipped her face to his before capturing her mouth for a kiss. Something clunked to the floor. He sucked her bottom lip between his, gently opening her mouth. She tasted of chocolate and spice and a hint of the forbidden. He teased his tongue across hers, just the slightest touch, then broke the kiss. Let her tell him he was just a boy now.

She opened her eyes, blinked twice, swayed slightly, then looked at the floor. “I dropped my purse.”

A slap across the face would have been a better response. “You dropped your purse? Damn it, I just kissed you and that’s all you have to say?”

“It was nice.” She shrugged. “I’ve had two husbands. I’m hard to impress.”

He nodded, realized his mistake. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She was halfway through another shrug when he slipped his hands around her waist, snugged her body against his and kissed her hard. He sucked and nibbled, teased and tortured, savoring the lingering sweetness of the chocolates she’d eaten and the champagne she’d drunk. Thoughts of long, hot nights filled his head and he let them fuel his movements. Relentlessly, he put every wicked thought he’d had about her since he’d seen her into the kiss. Heat swept his body like he’d just opened an oven door. Her hands gripped his biceps, and she moaned, the same moan he’d heard when she’d had a mouthful of chocolate.

Satisfied by the sound, he released her. “I should have done that.”

This time her eyes stayed closed, her lips parted. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed little panting breaths. “That
was
better,” she whispered. Her eyes flew open and her hand rushed to her mouth. Heat glittered dangerously in her gaze. “Do that again and your sister’s on her own.”

A laugh died in his throat. Still, he’d proven his point. He bent down and retrieved her purse. “My lips are sealed.”

She grabbed her purse out of his hands, clutching it to her chest for a moment, before tucking it under one arm and moving to the corner. “Good. Let’s keep it that way. Can you restart the elevator now?”

He cursed himself for being such an impulsive idiot. “Look being called a boy ticks me off. I get called that a lot in this business. People think I haven’t worked hard enough to get where I am. I’m sorry if I was outa line.” He couldn’t believe he’d already apologized to this woman twice in one night. Especially since he wasn’t one bit sorry about the kiss.

The hard set of her mouth softened but she didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s okay. It was just a kiss. No big deal.”

He grimaced. “No big deal? Kick a man when he’s down why don’t you?” He pushed the button and the elevator continued toward the first floor.

“Don’t worry.” Meredith turned to face the doors. “You’ll get better as you mature.”

* * *

‘80’s tunes had replaced the Spanish guitar in the downstairs bar and Viv and Celia were dancing with three men in suits when Meredith found them. She pointed them out to Kelly. “Those are my friends. The crazy ones.”

A huge smile lit Kelly’s face. “Those guys they’re dancing with are my investors. I didn’t think those guys knew how to dance.”

“My friends have that effect on people.”

“They sound like my kinda people.” He watched for a moment before speaking again. “I’m going to go shake some hands, see if I can find Shelby. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Good. My friends will shoot me if I don’t introduce them to you.” She watched him walk away. There was no denying he filled out a pair of jeans like nobody’s business. As soon as he was out of sight, she dropped into the nearest chair. Her lips still buzzed from his kiss. Just thinking about it threatened to knock her off her heels. And she wanted to think about it. Wanted to relive the way he tasted, the way little sparks of heat shot down to her belly when he’d held her, the way her knees went liquid and her head filled with fireworks. That hadn’t happened in a long time, even with Michael, may he rest in peace. Maybe it was just the sangria.

Part of her felt bad for snapping at Kelly for what he’d done but she knew it was for the best. He was too young. And no man needed to be involved with her. It wasn’t healthy. For them or her. Love led to heartache and she’d traveled that road too many times in her life.

But my, oh my, the boy could kiss.

“I said what are you doing sitting here all by yourself?”

Meredith looked up. Viv waited for an answer. “Sorry, I guess I was daydreaming.”

“You?” Celia asked.

Meredith stood up. “What? I can’t daydream?”

Celia laughed. “Did it involve a cowboy in the kitchen?”

Thankfully, Viv spoke before Meredith had to answer. “Why are you sitting by yourself?”

“I had a little too much sangria.” And a little too much kissing. Her pulse sped up again.

“Daydreaming and drinking?” Celia tsked. “Someone mark this day on the calendar.”

“Oh hush. I drink.” Teasing about drinking she could handle. If they found out about the kiss...

Celia rolled her eyes. “Yes, you have that half glass of champagne at New Year’s.”

“Where’s the cowboy?” Viv glanced around.

Saved by the queen bee again. “He’s mingling.”

“Did you talk to his sister?”

“No, she hasn’t shown up yet.”

Celia grabbed her hand. “Then let’s go dance. Those suits are cute.”

Meredith followed without protest. Must be the alcohol making her so agreeable.

An hour later, they headed for the bar in desperate need of something cold. Kelly showed up as their drinks arrived. “Having fun?”

“Tons,” Celia volunteered. Her face lit up. “You’re the cowboy. Kelly. The chef.”

“Guilty of all three. I take it y’all are friends of the good doctor?”

Meredith swallowed her club soda. “This is Celia and Vivian.”

Viv held out her hand. “Viv to you, darling boy.”

At the word boy, Meredith and Kelly’s gazes collided. She willed him to keep his mouth shut. He winked and pressed a kiss to the back of Viv’s hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Viv.”

Celia laughed. “You just made a regular customer out of her.”

“I try to please.” He shot Meredith a look that made her tingle. “It’s the least a
boy
can do.” He shook Celia’s hand before turning back to Meredith. “Can I talk to you about my sister for a minute?”

“Sure. Be right back.” She followed Kelly to an uninhabited corner where they could be seen but not heard.

“Shelby’s a no-show again.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do.”

Meredith opened her purse and took out a card, reminding herself to be happy the night was coming to a close. “Do you have a pen?”

He pulled one from his shirt pocket. “Been signing books all night.”

“I wouldn’t say you’ve been signing books
all
night.” She took the pen without making eye contact and jotted her number on the back.

“Thanks,” he said.

She paused and looked up. “For what?”

“For not being too sore at me for kissing you.” He grinned sheepishly.

“If you can even call it a kiss.”

The grin lessened. He crossed his arms. “Damn, woman. Throw a dog a bone.”

Dog was certainly appropriate. She shook her head as she handed him the card. “My private number is on the back. Give Shelby the book and tell her to call me.”

He didn’t take the card. “And if she doesn’t?”

“You call me and we’ll figure something out.”

Arms still crossed, he tipped his head. “Can I call you anyway?”

“I think it’s best if we keep this professional.” She slipped the card into his shirt pocket, careful not to touch him. “So, no.”

The remainder of his smile faded to a thin line and the sparkle in his eyes disappeared. “Whatever you think is best, Dr. Black.”

She wanted to tell him not to call her that, but held her tongue. His pride was wounded. He needed to come out on top.

Without another word, he twisted on his boot heel and headed back into the crowd, giving her one last glimpse of the most amazing backside she’d seen in years. As she rejoined the girls she wondered if keeping things professional was the best decision after all.

Celia giggled like a schoolgirl. “I think the cowboy has the hots for you. Did you see the way he looked at you?”

“He doesn’t have the hots for me,” Meredith assured her.

Viv nodded. “Celia might be right. He did wink at you.”

“He winks at everyone. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Celia nudged Meredith with her elbow. “Maybe you’ll get to ride his—”

“Celia!” Meredith glared at her friend.

“What?” Celia giggled. “I was going to say horse.”

Meredith rolled her eyes. “Crudeness does not become you. And he doesn’t like me, trust me on that, okay?”

Viv shook her head. “I don’t know. You two looked awfully chummy over there.”

A server interrupted, presenting Meredith with a small indigo box tied with gold-starred ribbon. She lifted the box to her nose and sniffed. Sweet and spicy chocolates.

Celia smiled at the beautiful little package. “What’s that?”

“Proof he doesn’t like me,” Meredith said, tamping down a twinge of hurt. “I’ve just been asked to leave.”

Chapter Five

Meredith tossed her keys and the box of chocolates on the entryway table. Her stilettos followed, sailing down the hall toward her bedroom, and landing with a dull thunk on the hardwood. Men. Bah. Such simple creatures with such fragile egos. The girls were wrong. She did
not
need a new one in her life. Ever.

She plopped down in her desk chair and fired up her laptop. What did Chef Spicer think? Just because he was handsome and sexy and young that she should fall at his feet? His attitude proved her point about the maturity levels in men. Or rather the lack of maturity levels. Really.

No email from Jason. Not even a text. Not that her son would be sitting in front of his computer on a Saturday night or even thinking of his mother. With a huff, she tapped the touch pad and surfed the web aimlessly, her thoughts churning.

Somebody ought to straighten the men of the world out. Well, at least one man in particular. Women weren’t toys for Chef Spicer’s amusement. Or any man’s, for that matter. Playboys like Chef Spicer were just the worst of the lot. Jason had better not end up like that. He’d been raised better.

Suddenly inspired, she clicked to her blog and opened up a new post. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, a satisfied smile spreading over her face.

* * *

Right after her personal Pilates instructor left on Monday morning, Meredith’s cell rang. Grabbing the phone, she settled in at her desk and checked the caller ID.

“Hi, Jill—”

“Are you insane?”

Good publicists were so hard to find. “Good morning to you, too, Jillian.”

“Do you know which magazine just called to cancel their interview with you?”

Meredith turned on her laptop. “Is this a trick question?”

“This isn’t funny.” Jillian huffed, fuzzing up the line. “
Bacall’s
no longer thinks your platform is appropriate for their readers.” She paused for breath. “And do you know why the number one woman’s magazine in the United States no longer think it’s appropriate, Meredith? Do you know?”

“I bet you’re going to tell me.” Jillian was such an alarmist. Meredith brought up her inbox.

“I’m glad making my job so difficult amuses you. Maybe that can be your next blog post,” Jillian screeched.

“What does my blog—”

“
The Merry Widow
is due out in less than four months. You keep posting diatribes like that and they’re going to rename it
The Man-Hating Harpy
.”

“Diatribes? I hardly think you can call that post a diatribe. More of discussion, really.”

“A discussion? Let me read you a few lines to refresh your memory. I’ve printed it out because my eyes glaze over every time I try to focus on the screen.”

“Now, Jillian...” The woman certainly had a flair for the dramatic.

“Men are vile, single-celled organisms requiring exhaustive amounts of energy to sustain them. What do they think we are? Energizer Playboy bunnies? Womenkind is better off without them. We live longer, are capable of handling our emotions with maturity and aren’t controlled by our baser physical urges. We are superior creatures in every aspect of our being. Beyond reproduction, what is man’s purpose? I don’t know and I no longer care to find out. I suggest staying single is the only sane solution and one I now firmly encourage.” She paused for a breath. “Shall I continue or is it coming back to you?”