Recipe for Desire Read online

  “Good evening, Marie Charles, I’m sorry to call you so late. But I just got your file from My Sister’s Keeper and I understand we’re going to be working together. My name is Devon Harris and I’ll be supervising your community service. We should get together so that I can tell you what I need and expect from you. Please give me a call at seven-oh-four, five-five-five, two-three-four-four.”

  Marie pressed the End button on her BlackBerry. This was about her damned community service? Ugh! “But Devon Harris, that name sounded so familiar,” she said as she lifted her iPad from the edge of her coffee table. She typed his name in her Google search menu and waited for the links to populate.

  When the Web site for Devon’s cooking show came up, Marie remembered where she knew him from: the Food Network and Hometown Delights. That restaurant was almost as notorious as she was, with it being the scene of a murder involving mogul Solomon Crawford, and where director Emerson Bradford lost his mind and tried to kill his ex. She clicked on a picture of Devon, drinking in his chocolate brown skin, short wavy hair, and big hands. Of course he had big hands; he was a chef and probably knew how to knead a body just like bread dough. Still, it wasn’t as if they were meeting for a social engagement or to have a nice dinner. He was going to be her community service supervisor. He probably had all kinds of negative thoughts about her. Why do I care? she thought as she tore her eyes from his picture. It was five minutes after eight, so Marie figured it wasn’t too late to return Devon’s call. But did she really want to? The last thing she needed was to be judged by this man. Again, she wondered why she cared what Devon Harris thought about her. She’d never met the man. Marie dialed his number and waited for him to answer.

  Devon looked down at his cell phone, trying to see if he knew who the number belonged to since a name didn’t pop up with it. Shrugging his chef’s jacket off, he answered the call.

  “Devon Harris.”

  “Mr. Harris, this is Marie Charles, returning your call,” the woman cooed.

  Marie Charles, he thought. Right, the chick on probation. “Miss Charles, yes. Thank you for calling me back.”

  “Just call me Marie. So, you said we should get together and talk about the community service project,” she said. As Devon listened to her, he had to admit, she had a hell of a sexy voice.

  “We do need to go over your schedule, because I want to get you started with us at My Sister’s Keeper as soon as possible. We’re in the middle of a fund-raiser and I know you have a background in public relations, so ...”

  “You expect me to work for free?” Marie shot back. “I will peel potatoes in the soup kitchen, but there is no way in hell ...”

  “Hold up,” Devon said. “You have to calm down. From what I understand, you have five hundred hours of community service to fill, and there is a lot of work that needs to be done, and you really don’t have a choice as to what you’re asked to do.”

  “So, you’re going to take advantage of me because I have to perform community service? You do know who I am, don’t you?”

  Devon fought back his caustic comment. “Look, Miss Charles,” he said. “You have to fulfill your community service hours, I don’t care who you are. But if you think you’re going to dictate how this works, then you’re wrong.”

  He heard her suck her teeth and imagined her head wagging back and forth as she talked. “This is getting off on the wrong foot,” Marie said. “I’m a little tired; it’s been a long day.”

  “OK, then we can talk about your schedule now. I want you to get started tomorrow morning,” Devon said.

  She sighed into the phone. “Can we meet somewhere Uptown. Maybe the bar at the Westin?”

  “Are you sure you want to go to a bar?” Devon asked snidely.

  Marie mumbled under her breath before saying, “What would you suggest, Mr. Harris?”

  “The Westin is fine. I can meet you there in fifteen minutes,” he said. Before Devon could say another word, he heard Marie’s phone click off. He glanced at his phone, shaking his head. “This is going to be a long night,” he mumbled.

  “Talking to yourself?” Alicia asked as she passed him in the hall. “Not a good sign.”

  Devon looked at her and grinned. “Where are you off to?”

  “Why?” she asked when she stopped and looked at him. “You need a ride somewhere?”

  “I drove today,” he said. “You’re dressed up, though. Hot date?”

  Alicia shrugged. “I wish. Just a boring business meeting. Why were you having a conversation with yourself earlier?”

  “Marie Charles.”

  “Who? Wait. The party girl?”

  Devon nodded. “One in the same. It seems as if she’s going to have to do her community service at My Sister’s Keeper, and I can tell already it’s going to be nothing but a headache. She had the nerve to tell me what she wants to do. She’s the one under a court order.”

  Alicia shook her head. “Wow. Better you than me.”

  “We’re meeting at the Westin to get her schedule together,” Devon said, then groaned.

  “Before you go, I do have some good news about the fund-raiser for My Sister’s Keeper,” Alicia said. “Concrete Jazz has agreed to play the dinner for free.”

  “Yes!” Devon exclaimed with a fist pump. “Shay is going to be happy about that. She had been talking to their manager about them performing here.”

  “She is a hell of a negotiator,” Alicia said. “I spoke with Nathan, their manager, and he wasn’t trying to do anything for free.”

  Devon nodded, then looked down at his watch. “I have to go. I’d hate to keep the princess waiting. She might leave before we get the business handled.”

  “Good luck,” Alicia said as Devon dashed out the back door. He sped to the hotel, since he was about five minutes late for his meeting with Marie Charles. But when he arrived at the bar, it was clear that Marie was even later than he was. Of the three people sitting in the Westin, not one of them looked like the young woman he was supposed to meet.

  Marie walked into the bar of the Westin and glanced around the sparse crowd until she locked eyes with a scowling Devon Harris. He looked a lot better in person than he did in his online photo. She sauntered over to him with a smile on her face. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said to him.

  “This isn’t going to be a habit of yours, is it?” Devon asked as he extended his hand to her. “Devon Harris.”

  “I know, I’ve seen your show once.”

  “Only once?” he asked with a smirk.

  Marie shrugged. “I’m not interested in cooking,” she said, then waved for a bartender. Devon furrowed his brow.

  “Miss Charles, I think the fact that you’re twenty minutes late means we don’t have time for a drink and small talk,” he said.

  “Excuse me?” she questioned. “I had to walk here, so I’m sorry if I didn’t make this last-minute meeting in a fashion that satisfies you.”

  Devon slammed his hand on the bar and shook his head. “This isn’t going to work. You’re sitting here acting as if I’m inconveniencing you when you have to work with My Sister’s Keeper because a judge told you to do so.”

  “And,” she said, “it doesn’t mean that I’m going to jump when you say so or be your freaking slave. I need something to drink.”

  The bartender stood a few inches away from Marie and Devon, unsure as to what to do next—pour a drink or run. Devon nodded at the bartender. “We’re going to need something strong,” he said. “Just keep pouring.”

  Marie smiled at the bartender and said, “I’ll just take Cîroc red berry cosmopolitan and he’s paying.”

  Devon rolled his eyes. The sooner he got this schedule worked out with Marie, the sooner he could get away from her. “Listen,” Devon said. “I start teaching over at the shelter around nine A.M. Maybe we should go over there now so that I can show you the area where you will be working. This is serious to me and I need you to take this seriously as well.”

  “I’m
willing to do what’s expected of me,” she said. “I don’t want to go to jail. But, you don’t have stand in judgment over me.”

  “Judgment?”

  “I hear it in your voice,” she replied. “There’s more to me than what you read on the Internet.”

  Devon’s attitude shifted from wanting to drink to showing Marie just how serious her work would be. “I don’t have time to read about you and your exploits on the Internet. Let me show you what’s important,” he snapped, then slid off the stool. “Do you have time to take a ride with me?”

  Marie sipped her drink and peered at Devon. He wasn’t going to just sign her time sheets. He actually wanted her to work those five hundred hours of community service. Setting her glass aside, she rose to her feet. “Fine.”

  Shaking his head, Devon paid for their drinks and then led her outside. Marie walked behind him, typing on her cell phone. Devon stopped and glared at her. “Cell phones aren’t going to be allowed in the kitchen,” he said.

  Marie looked up from her text message and offered him a plastic smile. “Sorry, but if I’m about to get into a car with you, I need to inform someone just in case I don’t come back.”

  “Paranoid much?” Devon asked.

  “You never can tell these days,” she said as they approached the Mustang. “Your work at the shelter must be doing wonders for your ratings, chef with a big heart,” Marie said.

  Devon frowned as he opened the passenger-side door. “What I do for the women at My Sister’s Keeper has nothing to do with my career.”

  Marie smirked and arched her right eyebrow. “Sure it doesn’t. You’re telling me that you’re volunteering because you just have a good heart? I don’t think so.”

  “I really don’t give a damn what you think. I’m going to need you at the shelter by eight thirty,” he said in a surly tone. “You can see the shelter tomorrow.”

  “Excuse me?” she snapped as she held on to the open door. “You got me out here and now you’re dismissing me?”

  Devon moved her hand from the door and closed it. “That’s right. See you in the morning, and you need to be on time. You’re going to help me prep my lessons and get the supplies that the women need to cook lunch to start with. I expect you to put in a full day of work and wear a hairnet,” he said firmly.

  Marie started to laugh. Just who did he think he was talking to? “Let’s get one thing straight,” she said as she slammed her hand against the door, causing Devon to cringe. “I will not let you talk to me as if I’m some common criminal, I ...”

  “No,” Devon said as he threw his hand up. “You’re not straightening out anything; there’s a court order that says you have five hundred hours of community service to fulfill. My Sister’s Keeper has opened its doors to you so that you can pay your debt to the community for whatever foolishness you’ve done. Show some damned respect or I will let your probation officer know that you’re not in compliance. And don’t you ever slam my door like that again!”

  Marie narrowed her eyes at him. “You know, this probably isn’t going to work. Why don’t ...”

  “You want to go to jail or you want to follow the rules? I’m not one of these people who hang out at The EpiCentre and need your approval to get on a party’s guest list. Helping these women is a serious matter; if you’re not going to take it seriously, then you need to find someplace else to conduct your community service,” Devon said.

  She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. As angry as she wanted to be at Devon, she could not deny that he was sexy as hell. Those brown eyes would make her melt had they been meeting at a party or at the bar for another reason. The fact that he wasn’t overly impressed with Marie Charles gave her a sensation that she’d never felt before. He was a chef, but he didn’t have the body of a man who ate decadent food all day. He obviously spent a considerable amount of time in the gym.

  “Miss Charles?” he asked, breaking into Marie’s thoughts. “Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” she replied after clearing her throat. “What’s the address of the shelter?”

  Devon handed her a pamphlet about My Sister’s Keeper. “Will you need a ride in the morning?”

  “No,” she said. “I’ll make sure I get there on time without having to walk.”

  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.”
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br />   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?”