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She hated this part. No matter how she said it, it always sounded like a come on. That
was the point, of course, but it didn t stop her from trying to make it sound professional.
 Personal Chef, at your service& what are you hungry for?
A familiar low chuckle greeted her.  Seriously? Do you answer the phone like that every
time, or did you know it was me?
 Every time, she growled, dropping the pretense of civility, doubly pissed because her
heart had skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. She d made a huge mistake last night.
 It s a niche market.
 I have to meet your boss. He s a genius. Say it again, one more time, like you mean
it.
 What do you want, Jackson? I m covered with chocolate mousse.
 This just gets better and better. He laughed while she weighed the pros and cons of
hanging up on him.
There were no cons, she decided.  Good-bye, Jackson.
 Wait&  He cleared his throat.  Lila, you know you re too talented to work for a sleazy
caterer with a French maid fetish who makes you answer the phone like a call girl.
 It beats minimum wage.
 No one with a Culinary Academy degree is going to make minimum wage.
She snorted.  You really need to get in touch with the real world, Jack. It s New York.
There are hundreds of culinary school graduates just like me willing to work for less than
minimum wage just to get their foot in the door. Most of them are men, which gives them
an immediate advantage. Some of them still live with their parents, so they don t have to
pay rent either. The only thing worse than feeling the crush of debt would be living with
her father, who still hadn t rebounded from losing his job.  Didn t we cover this territory? I
need the money. I know that boggles your privileged little mind, but the rest of America
understands completely. Now what do you want? I have desserts to finish, and I m
running late. He d better not want to talk about last night. Her heart pounded. Hadn t
she made herself clear? Nothing had happened. And it sure as hell wasn t going to
happen again.
She pointed at the freezer as Sarah and Damon came in the back door. They could load
the truck while she finished the desserts. She ignored Sarah s wink. The server had found
her phone on the table and her apron on the floor last night and had assumed the worst
 the truth.
 I have a proposition for you.
She rolled her eyes and clamped the phone between her cheek and shoulder. The
chocolate mousse she had accidentally smeared on the phone was going to get in her
hair, but she needed to finish the chocolate cups. Maybe it would look like fashionable
low-lights.
He cleared his throat again. Was he nervous? In spite of herself, she was intrigued.
 Out with it, Jack. I m a working girl, remember?
 Exactly. He spoke quickly.  I d like you to work for me.
 Hell, no, she answered, just as fast.
 You know I m opening a restaurant, right?
She snorted again. Half of New York knew he was opening a restaurant. Heck, half of
New York knew when a Calabrese sneezed, and a new restaurant was bigger news than
that.
 We open in two weeks, and I could use some help with the menu, he continued.
 Hold on. She washed her hands and carefully wiped the phone.  Are you telling me
you open in two weeks and you don t have a menu?
 I have a menu. He sounded tense.  It just needs some tweaking. After tasting your
hors d oeuvres last night, I hoped I could talk you into consulting for me. It needs&
something. I don t want to open just another restaurant. I want it to be the best damn
restaurant in New York.
 A tall order, she said, trying not to laugh while she framed a suitably withering
rejection.
 Yes. Now he sounded relieved. He probably thought he had her. The man truly had
balls the size of watermelons to even ask for her help, and he had a brain the size of a
tiny green pea if he thought she would say yes.
A sudden suspicion horrified her.  Was that what the dry storage room was about?
Softening me up for your little proposition? God, I can t believe I fell for the same trick
twice.
 No! I swear I didn t even think of it until this morning. I d never do that.
 Right. Fury heated her veins, but she kept her voice low and controlled, not wanting
the servers to overhear.  But now you re hoping I ll come in and look at your menu?
Shake it up a little? Give it some zip? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]