Recipe for Desire Page 12

  “Funny, because two weeks ago you were telling me that you and Greta were rekindling your romance. Does she know your broke ass is using her credit cards again?”

  “I’m not with Greta anymore. I heard about your incident with the car. I can’t believe your father didn’t get you out of it.”

  “Why don’t you take a long walk off a short bridge? In case you haven’t figured it out, we’re done. I don’t want to see or hear from your sorry ass, understand?”

  “Look, I was confused and I made a mistake. But I still want to marry you and—”

  Marie clicked the phone off and dropped it in her bag. William had nerve, but she wasn’t going to allow him to mar her lunch with Devon. Whatever made him think he could slink back into her life, he could choke on it. Devon returned to the living room with two plates of strawberry and spinach salads. “The salmon is grilling, so I hope you enjoy the salad, for now.”

  “It looks great,” she replied as she took her salad plate from his hand. “And strawberries are my favorite, though I usually like them dipped in chocolate.”

  She took a bite of her salad and realized that chocolate wasn’t the only way to make her favorite fruit taste great.

  “How is it?” he asked as he slowly ate his own salad.

  “Delicious,” she replied, then licked her lips.

  Devon set his plate on the table. “I forgot the wine,” he said. “Merlot cool with you?”

  Marie nodded, then took another bite of her salad. Devon went into the kitchen, and she smiled, thinking that this was the first time she’d been on a lunch date where there weren’t photographers—either because she called them or was tossing a drink in someone’s face.

  He returned and took his seat on the sofa beside her, then poured the wine for them. “A toast,” he said as he held up his glass.

  “What are we toasting?” she asked before raising her glass.

  “Getting to know the real Marie Charles.”

  She raised her glass and tapped it against Devon’s. “I can drink to that.”

  Devon took a sip of his wine and then headed back to the kitchen to check on the fish. Marie wished she could go into the kitchen with him, not because she wanted to help him cook; that he didn’t need help with. But she wanted to see if he had the kind of counters that could be used in her kitchen fantasy.

  Devon lifted the salmon steaks from the pan and placed them on a bed of wild rice, then squeezed a lemon over the fish before topping it off with a sprinkling of his zesty blend of seasonings. After garnishing the plates with a sprig of parsley, he headed into the living room with their lunches. “That looks so good,” Marie said as he set the plates on the table.

  “I forgot the wine again,” he said. “Do you want more?”

  “No, I’d better not. The last thing I need to do is show up to the office smelling like wine,” she said.

  “I have some sweet tea,” he said as he turned toward the kitchen.

  “Sounds perfect,” she said as she picked up her plate and dug into the food. By the time Devon returned with two goblets of tea, half of Marie’s salmon steak was gone.

  “Delicious,” she said in between bites. “This is the best salmon I’ve ever tasted.”

  “That’s good to hear,” he said as he handed her the tea. “I pulled out all the stops for this lunch. Got to impress Charlotte’s it girl.”

  Marie stopped drinking and tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think I want to be that girl anymore.” She set her fork on the side of her plate and met Devon’s quizzical glance. “Look,” she said. “I know that I created this image of this party girl. I was trying to do something that would set me apart from my father. And I’m willing to admit that I took it too far.”

  “You won’t get an argument from me. But why the whole party-girl thing? You’re obviously more than that; you have a big heart and you’re pretty smart.”

  “And smart women get ignored and pushed aside by the media. I take my shirt off and I’m all over the news and headlining the papers,” she said. “Go figure. Maybe the party-girl image was just a way for me to ...” Marie stopped short of telling Devon about the nagging insecurities that she hid with her bravado and outlandish acts. Marie wanted to be recognized for being more than Richard’s daughter.

  “You took your shirt off? How did I miss that?” he asked with a laugh.

  “If this food wasn’t so good, I’d toss a piece of fish at you,” she replied. “But, yes, to raise awareness about animal abuse.”

  Devon stroked his chin, thinking that seeing her topless would make him take notice of a lot of things; well, two things actually, but not animal abuse. “Well,” he said, “don’t you think that was very over the top?”

  Marie nodded as she polished off her salmon. “Charlotte’s Mecklenburg Police felt the same way. Me and my friends were taken into custody. But PETA bailed us out and we raised about seven thousand dollars for a no-kill shelter in Gaston County.”

  “OK,” he said. “So, how do you explain the car wreck?”

  “Possibly the worst thing that ever happened to me or the best thing,” she said.

  “Best thing?” he asked with his eyebrow raised.

  “I’ve had to take stock in my life and make some decisions,” Marie said as she smiled at him. “This image of me and that I created has taken over who I really am.”

  “And who are you?” he asked, setting his plate on the table and easing closer to her.

  “That’s what I’m going to have to rediscover,” she replied honestly. She placed her hand on Devon’s knee. He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

  “If you’re serious about it, it won’t be hard. Just do what’s in your heart and you will be fine.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder and hoped that he was telling the truth. As Devon stroked her shoulder, Marie knew one thing for certain: This was how a man was supposed to treat a woman at all times. She and William posed for pictures, never had a real romance. He was a means to an end for her, and she was a step up the social ladder for him. Could Devon offer her something real? Would he want to take her on with all the baggage she came with? Glancing into his warm eyes, she hoped that he would. She was going to be a better person; did that mean she’d be able to fall in love with a better man? A man like Devon?

  “Well,” he said after a comfortable silence had enveloped them. “I’d better get you to your office and I need to head to the restaurant.”

  “Thanks for ... everything.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “And there is more to come.”

  “I’m definitely looking forward to that,” she replied with a huge smile that melted Devon’s heart. Maybe Marie Charles wasn’t as much trouble as he initially thought.

  Devon released her and took their plates into the kitchen. He could hear her moving around in the living room. Devon couldn’t wait to see her in a pair of those killer heels again and nothing else. After washing the dishes, he returned to Marie, who was walking gingerly to test out her ankle.

  “You OK?” he asked.

  “Not bad. I know this might be asking a lot, but I really want Bria to have these shoes, so ...”

  “You want me to take you to the store to get another pair?”

  She nodded. “If you have time. I still have a couple of hours before Adriana and I are scheduled to meet—and I’m not going to take that long.” She laughed.

  “Let me call my sous-chef and let her know that I’m going to be late. Then we can head to Payless Shoes,” he said. Marie studied his face. Was he serious? She said she was willing to change, but there was no way in hell she was going to buy shoes from Payless.

  “Umm, what?” she asked.

  “They have BOGO, right?” he said, then burst into laughter. “I wish you could see your face right now.”

  Marie didn’t have to see a reflection in the mirror to know that she was giving him a look akin to someone seeing hell frozen over. “I have a personal s
hoe shopper at Nordstrom.”

  “Excuse me. I didn’t know that actually existed,” he said as he dialed the restaurant on his cell phone.

  After handling the scheduling at the restaurant and getting assurances that everything was running fine in the kitchen, Devon drove Marie to SouthPark Mall. “Please tell me why women spend so much time and money on shoes,” he asked as they headed into the store. As they passed through the vast shoe department, every sales clerk knew Marie’s name.

  “This is my Cheers,” she joked. “And we mostly buy shoes for men and other women to notice.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” he said, thinking about the wildly high-heeled shoes Serena wore. “I have to say, under different circumstances, I would’ve loved to see you walking toward me in those shoes that you twisted your ankle in.”

  “Really? You noticed them, despite the fact that you had your nose turned up at me as if I was the worst thing you’d ever seen?”

  “I was simply wondering, what the hell is she thinking wearing those shoes to work in the kitchen?”

  “To be honest, I’d hoped to not do any work. You showed me a thing or two,” she said.

  Devon shrugged. “I had to,” he said. “I’m very serious about the work I do at the shelter.”

  “Why is it so important to you?” she asked. “And I’m not asking because I think you have some motive behind it, but seeing your relationship with the ladies and how serious you are about it, it makes me wonder why you decided to give so much of yourself.”

  Devon looked deep into Marie’s eyes and wondered how much to tell Marie about what was behind his work at the shelter. He didn’t like opening up about his past. In interviews, he’d been known to walk off the set if questions about his father came up. Outside of Kandace, no one knew the extent of what he and his mother had gone through and how helping women who couldn’t turn to anyone else for assistance went much deeper for him than simply giving back to the community. No one knew that it had been nearly a decade since he’d had a conversation with his father.

  And despite the fact that he and Marie were getting closer, he wasn’t ready to share that with her. Not right now. “Too many people don’t stand up for what’s right,” he finally said. “They wait for someone else to do something and nothing gets accomplished.”

  “That’s true,” Marie agreed. “But I think you deserve a medal for giving a damn and doing it from your heart.”

  “Thanks,” he replied. “Maybe this fund-raiser will inspire other people to give a damn, as you so eloquently put it.”

  Marie smiled and squeezed Devon’s hand. “I’ve always been told that I have a way with words,” she kidded.

  “Marie Charles, are you wearing sneakers?” a tall ebony man with a blue-black bob and a tailored suit called out. “I’m guessing hell has frozen over.” He pushed his perfectly coiffed hair behind his ears, then clasped his hands together as he gave Devon the once-over. “Is this famed chef Devon Harris? Il est une amélioration énorme au-dessus de votre dernier amoureux.”

  Marie shook her head and Devon smiled, then said, “I’m flattered.”

  “You speak French?” the man asked, then he covered his mouth with his hand.

  “Jorge, I need some flats,” Marie said through her laughter.

  “Flats? Well, if you say so. But I ...”

  “I sprained my ankle,” she said. “This is only a temporary change.”

  Jorge clasped his hands together. “Thank God, because the new Louboutins are screaming your lovely name.”

  Marie smiled as Jorge led her and Devon to a private room in the rear of the store. Devon was surprised to see that an area like this existed in the swanky store. There was a velvet sofa, a coffee table with live flowers on it, and mood music playing in the background.

  “So, his real name is George, isn’t it?” Devon asked when Jorge walked out of the room.

  “Leave him alone,” Marie said. “He’s a lifesaver. So, Jorge, George, or whatever, I love that man.”

  “I’m starting to feel a little jealous,” he said.

  “Of Jorge?”

  “No, your love of shoes. Will anyone ever live up to that?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Hmm,” she said, then slipped her finger underneath her chin as if she was thinking about it. Before she could reply, Jorge returned with four boxes of shoes.

  “All right, Bella, here’s what I think you will like. I’ve never seen you in a pair of flats so this was hard.” Jorge turned to Devon. “Would you like something to drink? Water, chardonnay, whiskey?”

  “I’ll take a water,” Devon said. Jorge then turned to Marie and smiled.

  “Bella, your usual?” he asked, then mouthed, “Make sure you keep bringing him around.”

  Marie narrowed her eyes at Jorge, then said, “I’ll have a water, too.”

  As Jorge left the room, he glanced at Devon’s feet. “Size twelve?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I have something in a brown leather loafer that I think you would love,” he said. “I’ll be back with the water and the shoes.”

  “I told you,” she said once they were alone. “Jorge is the man.” Marie smiled as she thought about the old adage about men with big feet. She really hoped it was true in Devon’s case.

  Chapter 13

  When Devon and Marie left Nordstrom, all he could do was shake his head. Marie had four bags of shoes and he was carrying a pair of brown Ferragamo lace-up boots. He’d never paid three hundred dollars for a pair of shoes or understood what was so important about a pair of shoes, but Jorge and Marie had spent thirty minutes talking him into them. This, he decided, would not become a habit.

  “You’re quiet over there,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re having shoe buyer’s regret.”

  “I’m still wrapping my mind around that shoe dissertation you and George gave me about a good pair of shoes,” Devon said, then laughed. “I really zoned out when he said a good-fitting pair of shoes is better than sex.”

  “It’s the truth. But please tell me you won’t wear those in the kitchen.”

  “Not at all,” he said as he shook his bag. “I’m wearing these when we go dancing.”

  “Dancing? You dance?”

  “I have moves that you will not be able to describe.”

  Marie chewed her bottom lip and raised her eyebrow. “That could go either way.”

  “You’re going to have to take me up on my offer and find out.”

  She smiled, thinking that she wanted to see his moves and the dance floor wasn’t the proper setting, but she said, “OK. As soon as this ankle of mine is ready to slip into my favorite pair of Ferragamo T-straps.”

  “That sounds kinky,” he joked. “I’m looking forward to it. So, tell me something, do you really believe a pair of shoes is better than sex?”

  “If I say yes, will you prove me wrong?”

  Devon winked at her. “It will be my duty to prove you wrong.” He looked down at his watch. “It’s getting late. Where’s your office?”

  “Off Providence Road.”

  “OK, I’ll drop you off, and what are you doing for dinner?”

  “I don’t have plans,” she said.

  “You do now. Why don’t you and your partner be my guests at Hometown Delights tonight?”

  “All right,” she said. “And I’ll wear my new shoes.”

  Devon laughed. “Which pair? You bought so many.”

  “If you’re going to be hanging out with me, you’re going to have to develop an appreciation for shoes.”

  “I have an appreciation for shoes,” he said, glancing down at her feet. “It’s the shopping for them that I can do without.”

  She placed her hand on his shoulder, happy to be walking without her crutch just so she could touch him, then she kissed him on the cheek. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “How about I introduce you to my friend Serena. You two have a lot in common already,” he said.

  A t
winge of jealousy attacked her. Why did he keep talking about Serena and was she simply just a friend? This man is single, and if he hangs out with some other woman, how can I hold that against him? It’s not my concern.

  “Marie,” he said. “You all right?”

  “What?”

  “I asked you a question,” he said. “Your ankle seems to be doing a little better.”

  “Yes, and I don’t like lumbering around on those crutches.” Before she said another word, Devon scooped her into his arms. Marie squealed with shock and delight. “What are you doing?”

  “The sooner your ankle heels, the sooner I wear these shoes on our date,” he quipped as he carried her and all of her shoes to the car.

  By the time Marie met Adriana, her mind was gone. All she could think about was her afternoon with Devon. The skillful way he licked and kissed the most precious part of her body, his concern for her injury, and moreover, his indulgence of her shoe shopping. She smiled like a satisfied kid on Christmas afternoon.

  “Hello!” Adriana snapped. “Am I talking to myself here? You know, you’ve been loopy since Mr. Harris dropped you off, and don’t think I missed those looks you two were exchanging when he invited me to dinner.”

  “A dinner you’re not going to be able to make,” Marie chimed in.

  Adriana waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You slept with that man.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  “Marie, two things in the world make you act like this: brand-new Louboutins and good sex.”

  “Add good food to the list, because Devon and I had lunch and looked at Louboutins today. So, yes, in the life of Marie Charles, today was a good day. Oh, remember I said there was something I wanted to talk to you about?”

  “I assumed that’s what we were doing,” Adriana said. Marie pouted and threw her hand up at her friend.

  “This is serious. How is our budget looking these days?”

  “Well, we’ve lost a couple of clients, but we’re still in the black,” she replied. “Why?”

  “I want us to bring one of the women from the shelter on.”