Recipe for Desire Page 7

“Shh,” Bria admonished Marie and Shay. “Some of us are trying to learn something.”

  Marie threw her hands up and turned her attention back to Devon’s big hands. Shay leaned into Marie and whispered, “You don’t care about Devon’s cooking, do you? I see how you’re looking at him.”

  “What? No,” Marie said quietly. “I’m going to try this recipe.”

  “Whatever.”

  Bria turned around and glared at Shay, who rolled her eyes in response. Marie crossed her legs and stroked her ankle, remembering how Devon had touched her after she’d twisted her ankle in the kitchen at the shelter. Stop it, she thought. The only reason you’re looking at this man like this is because it’s been so long since you’ve actually had some satisfaction in the bedroom. William didn’t know how to do anything remotely satisfactory.

  “All right,” Devon said, his silky voice causing Marie to snap her head up and lock eyes with him. “I need a volunteer because this dish is so easy, even the most novice cook can make it.” He pointed at Serena, and Marie felt a slight twinge of jealousy, despite the fact that she knew Serena and Devon worked together. She also knew Serena was married since she’d followed Emerson Bradford’s trial for the attempted murder of Serena, but she wanted to be up there with him. Close enough to inhale his masculine scent and feel those magic fingers dancing across her hand as she rolled the fish like Serena was doing.

  “Now, Serena,” Devon said. “Was that so hard?”

  “You know, I don’t like you right now,” she quipped.

  Devon laughed. “Serena is a newlywed and one of the owners of the restaurant, so she doesn’t do much of this in the kitchen,” he said as he directed her to drop the fish in the pan. “Your husband will thank me when he comes home to a hot meal.”

  “You’re lucky we’re on TV,” she replied as she dropped a second piece of fish in the pan. Marie crossed and uncrossed her legs as Devon squeezed a lemon over the shrimp he had simmering in another pan. As he spoke about the flavor that would come from adding the juice, she watched his lips, taking note of how full they were. When he picked up a piece of shrimp with a fork and took it into his mouth, Marie closed her eyes and imagined what it would feel like to have his lips closed around hers.

  The director signaled for a break, and it couldn’t have come fast enough for Marie, who bolted from her seat and went outside to catch her breath. She paced back and forth in the parking lot, ignoring the pain in her ankle as she struggled to bring her hormones under control. He’s just a man and it’s his job to be charming when he’s on TV, she thought as she continued to pace.

  “Hey,” Shay said as she walked outside with a cigarette in her hand. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, just needed some air,” Marie said. “You know those things are bad for you.”

  Shay lit up anyway and shrugged. “There are a lot of things that are bad for me. Those shoes, as sharp as they are, will kill your knees one day.”

  Marie looked down at her feet and nodded. “Touché. May I ask you a question?”

  Shay blew a plume of smoke upward. “Sure.”

  “I’m not trying to be disrespectful when I say this, but how did you end up in the shelter?”

  Shay flicked the ashes from her cigarette and looked at Marie. “Well,” she said, “I married the wrong man. When he decided to leave me, it seemed as if everything started going downhill from there. When we were married, he was the primary provider, I worked for First Union. Then they merged with Wachovia and my job was no longer needed. I was laid off, living in a house with a mortgage I couldn’t afford on my own.”

  “Wow. So, what did you do?” Marie asked.

  “I moved out, got a job at another bank, and then all hell broke loose in the industry,” Shay said as she shook her head. Cocking her head to the side, she looked at Marie. “Not the story you expected, huh? Thought I was a former crack head or something?”

  Marie didn’t want to say yes, but that had been what she’d been thinking. “I just ...”

  “It’s all right, a lot of people hear ‘homeless’ and think drugs, prostitution, and forget that anyone could find themselves in my shoes at any time. Nothing is promised.”

  Marie nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “Nothing is promised. Your family couldn’t help you?”

  Shay snorted and took a deep drag of her cigarette. “My family and I haven’t spoken in over fifteen years. Even if I had reached out to them for help, they wouldn’t have helped me. My father is a pastor, and he didn’t approve of my lifestyle.”

  “Your lifestyle?”

  “He didn’t approve of my husband, nor the fact that I had an abortion,” Shay revealed. “When he threw me out, I told myself that I would never ask him to help me with anything.”

  “But ...”

  Shay threw her hand up. “I wish things had turned out differently for me. I wish that I had a home and supportive family, but I’m getting back on my feet and making my own way. I’m learning how to be a chef from one of the most world-renowned chefs around. Things are not as bad as they could be.”

  “I think it’s amazing you can find something positive in your situation,” Marie said.

  Shay laughed. “I guess you think having to volunteer at the shelter is pretty difficult. Probably the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

  “Well,” she said with a shrug.

  “You’re lucky and I hope you know that. So many times, we take life for granted until something happens and makes you look at what’s really important. I’m going back inside, you coming?”

  “In a minute,” Marie said. She watched Shay return inside and thought about life without her father. So many times he should’ve turned his back on her after antics that she pulled, but he didn’t. Maybe it was time for her to change her ways.

  Marie walked into the restaurant as the filming of Devon’s show wrapped and the audience gave him a standing ovation. She watched him as he shook hands with his fans and took pictures with many of them. Devon’s smile made Marie melt, made her think of ways she could make him smile. Too bad he simply saw her as a troublemaker.

  Devon glanced at Marie, wondering why she was staring at him intently. Figuring that she was pissed off about how long it had taken to complete the filming of the show, he winked at her and continued taking pictures with his fans. Was that a smile he saw on her face? he wondered when he glanced at her. Marie was pretty when she smiled. Hell, she was pretty when she scowled, but that attitude of hers. He noticed that she and Shay were talking and smiling at each other. That was interesting. Maybe Marie wasn’t as bad as he had originally thought. Shay didn’t take well to strangers, but she and Marie were talking as if they were old friends.

  “Devon,” Alicia said as she nudged him in his ribs. “Are you listening to me?”

  “What?” he replied. Alicia followed his gaze to where Marie was standing. She laughed quietly.

  “So, what’s that all about?” Alicia asked.

  “Just watching how she interacts with the ladies from My Sister’s Keeper,” he said. “Stop trying to read into things.”

  “I saw how you were looking at Marie Charles, and I’m sure that it had nothing to do with the ladies you work with. You’re starting to like her,” Alicia teased.

  “No, I’m not,” he said. “I’m just impressed that she’s getting along with the ladies.”

  “And how are you two getting along?” she asked.

  “Today is our first day working together,” he replied. “So, I can’t answer that. But whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

  “OK,” Alicia said. “If that’s how you’re playing it.”

  “I have to get the ladies back to My Sister’s Keeper. Do you have some information for me about the fund-raiser?”

  Alicia reached into her purse and handed him an invitation. “I’m going to send these to some of the businesses around the city. People who probably won’t show up but will make a donation; they’re going out this week.”r />
  Devon hugged Alicia excitedly. “That’s great. I can’t wait for this event to happen and see how much money we can raise for these women.”

  “I’m glad you’re excited about this, but I still think you want something extra with Marie. I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  Alicia folded her arms across her chest. “The same look you gave Kandace in college before you asked her out for the first time.”

  “Whatever,” he said as he took his chef’s jacket off and draped it across his arm. “I’m going to change and check on the kitchen staff.”

  “And I’m going to talk to Marie,” Alicia said, then walked away.

  “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.”