“Where else have you served this cake besides The Casa de Mariposa?”
Hendrix had to think. “I made it for my friends when I was at UC Davis. I made it for my ex-boyfriend’s parents’ anniversary party.”
“Your ex-boyfriend’s parents?”
Hendrix grinned. “They wanted to keep me,” she chuckled. “My grandmother still serves one of the variations in her tea shop.”
“Okay.” Vanessa tapped furiously on her computer. “Any place else?”
“I have a list of private clients. I’ve served the cake, or some variation or it, to all of them.”
“I’ll need that list. I have a meeting with Lisa and Susan’s lawyer on Friday. If I have enough evidence to show that the cake recipe isn’t proprietary, maybe I can convince them to drop the suit.”
Hendrix shook her head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Lisa and Susan want to drag me through the mud. They are the most spiteful women I’ve ever known. They are angry at me because I had a better relationship with their mother than they did.” Mitzi had told her once that no matter what she did, her daughters never approved of her. They had blamed her for divorcing their father, and Mitzi refused to tell them that he had left her for another woman that he’d been having an affair with. For some reason, they idolized their father and Mitzi had sadly commented that things like that often happened in a divorce. She’d gone on and made a life for herself, and maybe that was part of the problem. She hadn’t looked back no matter how hard her daughters had tried to get her back together with her ex-husband.
Vanessa asked a few more questions and Hendrix answered as honestly as she could. By the time the two women left, she was worn out. She finished her baking, loaded up the van and took everything to the Mariposa.
* * *
“Have you ever been to the Reno Food and Wine Festival?” Donovan asked as he helped Hendrix load the wheeled carts. After she’d mentioned it to him, he’d researched the event and found out more about it.
“I’ve been the first in line,” Hendrix said, “for the past four years. Want to go Saturday?”
Donovan nodded. “Sounds like fun.”
They wheeled the carts through the delivery bay to the diner kitchen. Once the desserts were stored inside the walk-in refrigerator, Hendrix went into the converted dining room. Diners were few and the food was a bit more basic than usual. One of the diners saw her and immediately asked about her brownies.
“Just unloaded them,” she answered.
The diner gave her a thumbs-up and went back to his hamburger.
“This looks like it will work out,” she told Donovan.
“The room’s a bit small, but we’ll make do, for now.” Donovan led the way into the old dining room, which had been stripped of everything. “I decided since we’re going to be down for a few months, we might as well upgrade all the equipment and repaint. I’m ordering new tables and booths. Lydia, Nina, Miss E and Kenzie told me they were all submitting their ideas on how the dining room should look, and I get to pick the design we’ll use tomorrow morning.”
She cringed. He was a brave man. She admired that about him. “You sound a little dubious.”
“Whichever plan I pick, the other three will be annoyed with me.”
Hendrix laughed. “What do you want?”
“What any man wants. Comfortable with no fuss.”
She got that. She liked it, too. “Comfortable with no fuss doesn’t appeal to the customers you want to attract for a fancy dinner.”
“Yeah, but it does make me want to sit down in sweat pants and a beer to watch football.” He looked wistful.
She giggled and he shrugged.
A workman was pulling up the carpet. Underneath it the concrete floor was stained from years of dropped food and spilled drinks.
“I’ve decided on porcelain tile instead of carpet,” Donovan explained as he led the way into the kitchen. “Easier to maintain.”
The kitchen was a hub of activity. The walk-in refrigerators had been pulled out and sat in the center of the room. A workman tugged at a stove. The mixer that was always breaking down had been set near the rear doors to be carted out.
“How did things go with Vanessa?” he asked leading the way to his office.
“Okay, I guess. The only good thing about this mess is that the burden of proof is on Lisa and Susan. Vanessa thinks things will be just fine. Though she warned me that if it goes to a jury trial, the jurors tends to go with the lawyer they like the most. I can’t imagine Susan and Lisa hiring a nice attorney. As for Vanessa, I want to make her cookies.”
Donovan chuckled. “Vanessa’s like a cat. You pet her, she purrs and the next moment she’d digging her claws into your face.”
“That’s a bit scary,” Hendrix said.
“Be happy she’s on your side.”
“I am. I trust her.” Just as she trusted him, but she wasn’t going to say that. She didn’t have the nerve to say it.
There was this awkward moment of silence.
“I’d better get going,” Hendrix said. “I have a long list of supplies I need to get from the store room, and I want to get started early on tomorrow’s baking.”
Donovan nodded. “Meet me here on Saturday morning. The booths open at ten”
“I’ll be here at nine.” She loved food festivals. She gazed happily at Donovan.
* * *
Hendrix waited impatiently for Donovan. She’d arrived early, anxious to get to the event. But she soon found that Donovan was off talking with the construction foreman about a problem they’d encountered when they tried to install one of the new ovens.
She sat in the diner, nursing a cup of coffee. She would have had something else but wanted to keep her appetite for the food. She wore jeans rolled up at the ankle, a Rosie the Riveter T-shirt and a floppy yellow hat that matched her yellow sneakers.
Erica, Donovan’s perfectly groomed ex-wife walked into the diner, spotted Hendrix and slid into the booth opposite her. Erica wore white shorts that fit her slender hips to perfection and showed off her long, slender legs. A white silk shirt showed a little more cleavage than necessary, and her bright red enamel necklace and bracelet set could only have come from Paris. Dainty gold sandals that looked almost too fragile to be of any use covered her slim feet. She’d brushed her hair back from her long, aristocratic face and secured it with red enamel barrettes.
“You look ready for adventure. You’re certainly not dressed for baking. What’s on your agenda today?”
Hendrix tried not to grimace. “Donovan and I are going to the Food and Wine Festival today.”
“That sounds exciting.” Erica leaned over the edge of the table. “Our first date was something similar in Paris. I just love the smell of all those aromas mingling. Food cooking in the streets, people wandering around sampling everything. It was very romantic.”
“That’s nice.” Hendrix didn’t think food was particularly romantic. Food was exciting, meant to be sampled and enjoyed.
“I think I’ll come along.” Erica smiled at Hendrix. “It’s been a long time since I attended a food fair.”
“This is more business than pleasure,” Hendrix said with a frown.
Erica shrugged. “That’s all right.”
Donovan entered the diner and walked straight over to Hendrix. A thrill of pleasure filled her.
“Erica.”
“You’re lovely young protégée here just invited me to come along to the food festival.”
Donovan’s gaze turned to Hendrix and she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Erica’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”
“This is business, Erica. I don’t have time to entertain you. If you want to find your own way there, be my guest. But you’re not tagging along with me a
nd Hendrix.”
Erica’s mouth fell open in astonishment. She slid out of the booth and stood, taking a deep breath and looking down at Hendrix as though Donovan’s refusal to allow her to tag along was somehow Hendrix’s fault.
“Well,” Erica said. “I know when I’m not wanted.” She turned on her heels and walked out.
Hendrix didn’t know what to say. She stared at Donovan.
“You didn’t want her to come along?” Donovan said as he sat across of her.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You were thinking it.”
She sipped her coffee, her mind racing for a reply. “My grandmother taught me to be mannerly.”
“Trust me. Being polite to Erica accomplishes nothing. She once wrangled an invitation to the Cannes Film Festival. She’d been thinking about a new career as an actress. But then she antagonized one of the board members who had the power of making or breaking any actress. And that was the end of her acting career.” He stood and held out his hand. “I’m not ready to be run out of Reno on a rail. You ready for a day of food?”
“I’ve prepared myself emotionally, spiritually and physically. I’m ready to get my eat on.” She jumped to her feet and put her hand in his. The touch of his fingers sent a tingle through her. She was ready.
* * *
The food festival was held in the parking lot of a large shopping mall. Rows of canopies dotted the area. And even before Donovan parked the car, Hendrix could smell mouthwatering aromas hovering in the air. He paid their entry fee and received a book of coupons to exchange for food samples.
She inhaled, pulling apart different smells: garlic, onion, pepper, vanilla mingled with the sharpness of citrus and barbecue. As they stood at the head of the first row she couldn’t decide where to start first. Interspersed with the foods booths were vendors selling products.
“So much food and so little time,” she moaned. She wanted to try everything. She walked down the aisle, eyeing each booth critically. The sweet smells of pastries reached her and she stopped so suddenly that Donovan bumped into her.
“What?” Donovan said.
She closed her eyes and sniffed in the yeasty aroma. “Bread.”
Donovan grabbed her hand. “This way.” Even he sounded excited.
The booth proudly announced its specialty breads. Hendrix stood in front of the display counter and stared. Susan stood behind the counter while Lisa stood in front holding a tray with tiny cookies. The two women glared at her and she stepped back, wanting to avoid any confrontation.
“Is something wrong?” Donovan asked.
She pointed discreetly at the booth. “That’s Lisa and Susan, the two women suing me for the champagne cake recipe.”
Donovan nodded. Then he walked over to Lisa and took two cookies and brought them back. Lisa continued to glare at Hendrix, who backed farther away.
Hendrix took one and chewed. “Too much cardamom,” she said. “I’ve told them a hundred times to stop putting so much in the cookies. It obscures the nutty flavor of the almonds.”
Donovan took a bite. He nodded in agreement. “Needs a bit of vanilla, too. Just a couple drops to add an underlying taste.” He paused to finish the last tiny bite.
Hendrix shrugged. “They never liked me. I’m too weird for them.”
“What happened?”
Hendrix gave him a sideways look. She liked that he tried to protect her. It made her feel cared for. Special. Her heart tightened a bit. He really did like her. As much as she liked him. “They took over the bakery after Mitzi’s stroke and expected me to be happy with what they were willing to give me. They disrupted my whole baking process and wouldn’t let me do what I do best. They wanted to cash in on the cupcake craze and wouldn’t listen to me when I told them cupcake sales had already crested and were falling off. They wanted me to just be quiet and not offer opinions. Mitzi and I had always talked about everything.”
She turned down another aisle, leaving Lisa and Susan behind.
“Don’t let them ruin the day,” Donovan urged as he planted his hand on the small of her back. “Let’s keep moving.”
His touch electrified her. Hendrix wasn’t going to let Lisa’s and Susan’s anger stop her from enjoying herself with Donovan. She was so happy he’d come with her. She followed Donovan to a booth with an open grill made from a drum. A huge man stood in front of it, watching over barbecued chicken wings. He handed out samples to Donovan and Hendrix. She nibbled the wing. It was amazing. Donovan stopped to talk to the man cooking the wings while she wandered over to another display case with a sign prominently advertising a champagne cake.
“Can I try a sample of your cake?” she asked the woman behind the counter. The woman cut a tiny piece and gave it to her on a small paper napkin.
“What are you eating?” Donovan asked.
“Champagne cake,” she said, pointing at the display case. “And it tastes remarkably like my version.” She pulled out her phone and took a photo of the cake and the sign in front of it. She took a second photo from farther back displaying the sign for the bakery and sent both photos to Vanessa. “If Lisa and Susan are going to sue me, then they have to sue everybody who makes this cake.”
“Do you think they know that?” Donovan said with a grin.
“I don’t think they care. If I can prove that the recipe is in general use at other bakers, it undermines what they are trying to do. I’m not going to let them win.”
“I don’t think they can win,” Donovan said. “Let them do their worst—we can afford to keep them in court for years.”
Staring into his dark gaze, she had this vision of him as her knight in shining armor. She suddenly became really hot imagining him riding to her rescue.
She laughed, threaded her arm around his and pulled him down to the next booth.
* * *
By the end of afternoon, Donovan was stuffed. “I want to go home and unbutton my pants.”
Hendrix laughed. “Me, too.” They walked slowly toward his car. “I loved every moment of today.”
“I’ve never tried so many different barbecue sauces in my entire life. I’m ordering a couple cases of Daddy Mann’s Special Sauce for the hotel.”
“I found a spice dealer with some unusual spices.”
Donovan opened the door of his car for her. She looked satisfied as she slipped into the hot car. He didn’t want the day to end. He wanted to spend more time with her.
“I’ve always gone by myself before,” she said as he started the car. “I have never had this much fun by myself.” She gave him a look that indicated she didn’t want the day to end, either.
His stomach tightened at the prospect. Could he do this? She was so sweet and soft he knew he could totally get lost in her.
Donovan started the car and hoped the air-conditioning would cool him down. “Since this is my first time, I’m looking forward to some of the other food festivals. I checked and there is usually one every couple months somewhere in Reno or Sparks.” He had also enjoyed watching Hendrix eat. No tiny little bites for her. She ate with gusto and seemed determined to try everything. He wondered if everything was like that for her. He suspected it was. Hendrix lived her life by her rules and that was unbelievably sexy. He just wanted to be in her orbit.
When they arrived in front of her house, Hendrix opened her car door. “You coming in?”
Donovan smiled. Heat surrounded him. “I think I will.”
She didn’t wait for him, instead she walked up the sidewalk and unlocked the door. She threw over her shoulder what she hoped was a come-hither look. She opened the door and stepped inside her cool house and walked straight back to her bedroom. Inside her Victorian white lace and red satin room she kicked off her shoes. Behind her she heard her front door close. Then a few seconds passed before Donovan sto
od in her bedroom door.
“Hendrix?”
“Yes?”
“Are we going to...” He inclined his head toward her bed.
She smiled and pursed her lips. “Yeah, we are.”
* * *
His pupils dilated and his beautiful lips parted. Then he smiled. “Just checking.”
Hendrix walked over to him and threw her arms around his neck then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Donovan’s lips met hers and he drew her against him.
Her body burned—his mouth branded her to the core. His seductive tongue teased hers and he felt so right in her arms. His body shifted with one hand sliding down her back to cup her rear end. Hendrix couldn’t help herself. She moaned against his mouth. She liked that he wanted her badly. As badly as she wanted him.
His mouth left hers. She felt him reach for her shirt and it went over her head in a second. Then he proceeded to kiss her again. Dear God this man could kiss. What he could do with that mouth had to be illegal. She took a second and helped him out of his shirt. And then she felt herself floating and she landed on her mattress. She watched him reach into his pocket and retrieve a condom. He placed it between his teeth and then he shimmed out of his jeans and boxer briefs. She bit her bottom lip at the sight of his glorious erection as he rolled the condom on.
Hendrix didn’t think she could wait any longer. She worked her pants and bra off as quickly as she could and sat on the bed waiting. Every look, every touch of his fingers on her skin sent wild spirals of sensual magic through her.
He pushed her back on the mattress and put his knee between hers. He hovered over her as his fingers slipped up her thigh and into her slick heat. She pushed her legs farther apart as his teasing fingers explored inside her, sliding deeper and deeper until the sweet pleasure made her whimper.
A hungry moan escaped her and she had to force herself not to clamp her legs closed on his magic fingers. Hot tingles of desire worked their way through her body. The pleasure built and built, until it floated on a tremor of desire so strong she could barely see.
He eased down between her spread legs and slipped inside her. He pushed with deliberate slowness.
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