by LuAnn McLane
God . . . but I don’t wanna! I want to whip up a fabulous meal that has him raving, doggone it. I suppose it bothers me because I always wanted to be a good cook for my daddy. With all the crappy food he consumed on the road, it would have been nice for him to enjoy a home-cooked meal.
I tried. Really. I read cookbooks and watch cooking shows! Rachael Ray makes it look so easy! But I could never quite put my scattered knowledge into practice. For some reason the kitchen remains a room of mystery and mishaps.
My daddy, bless his heart, would eat whatever I put in front of him but then again I wasn’t trying to impress my daddy. With a sigh I head back into Tootsie’s, hoping to get some words of wisdom from my friends.
“What’s wrong?” Lilly asks when I sit back down on my bar stool. I suppose my misery is written all over my face.
“Luke is coming into town tomorrow for a meeting with Vanderbilt and I offered to cook dinner for him.”
Sam angles her head in question. “Wait, am I missing something? This is good news, right?”
“No!”
“Well, why the hell not?” Lilly asks with a frown.
I give them a sheepish look. “I can’t cook.”
“Oh me neither,” Sam scoffs, but then glances at Brandon. “Well, you know, not fancy stuff,” she amends.
“No, you don’t understand. I really, really suck.”
Boone shakes his head. “Well, then why did you say you would cook if you can’t?”
“Duh, to impress him,” Lilly says, and gives me a look of female understanding. “You should have picked something different, though.”
“Ya think?” I ask while tapping my foot to the beat of “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problems.” “It just sort of came out of my mouth! Now what am I gonna do?”
“Easy,” Sam says with a wave of her hand. “Just get some takeout from The Loveless Café and fake it.” She gives Brandon another glance. “Not that I would ever do such a thing.”
With a totally Brandon grin he leans over and says something in Sam’s ear, making her laugh. I’m sure it has something to do with not having to fake it.
Lilly, who had been nibbling on the inside of her cheek, suddenly snaps her fingers. “I think I have an answer to your dilemma.”
“You do?” I ask with hope in my heart. “What?”
When we all look at her expectantly she elaborates, “Well, Tammy is real good friends with Cody West.”
“The Grillin’ and Chillin’ chef from the Food Channel?”
“The one and only,” Lilly answers. “I don’t know if he could help out on such short notice but even if he can’t, he might know someone who could come over and . . . you know, assist you a tiny bit in the kitchen.” She holds her thumb and index finger an inch apart.
“That would be amazing! All I ever needed was someone to teach me some basic skills. Tell him I’m clueless but a quick study.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Lilly promises, and then gives me a high five.
“What was that for?”
“For being brave.”
“Um, you mean stupid?”
“Sometimes it’s a fine line,” she admits with a wink. “But you’re putting yourself out there, Macy.” She lifts her bottle and tips it forward. “To dreamin’ and schemin’!”
“I’ll drink to that,” Sam says, and doesn’t even give an apologetic glance to Brandon this time. He, however, looks at her with a smile and then shakes his head before tipping back his own bottle. I have to wonder if he’s finally met his match. I sure hope so.
“Hey,” Lilly says as she glances down at her phone. “Tammy’s callin’. I’ll take it outside.”
“I’m comin’ with you,” Boone informs her.
“Okay.” She gives in without an argument. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Don’t forget to ask her about Cody West helpin’ Macy,” Sam reminds her.
“I won’t,” Lilly promises.
Brandon leans over and says, “You’re lucky, Macy. These girls already care about you. If I didn’t know better I’d think y’all had been friends for a long time.”
“Oh I know,” I agree, but then feel myself get a little choked up.
Brandon reaches over and pats my leg. “But you’re homesick.”
“Yeah and I miss Jamie Lee and the Cut and Curl.” I have to swipe at a tear. “Why couldn’t we stay twelve years old forever?”
“It was a helluva lot less complicated back then.”
“You can say that again.”
“It was a helluva lot less complicated back then.”
“Brandon,” I say with a laugh, and playfully punch his arm.
He shrugs. “Corny but it got a laugh outta ya.”
“Are we gonna be okay?” I’ve always felt a sense of closeness to Brandon even though we’re three years apart in age. He and I have always seemed to be searching . . . aching for something that probably stems from the early loss of a parent. “Sometimes I get so doggone . . . scared.”
Brandon places his hand over mine and squeezes. “There’s no doubt in my mind that we’ll be okay.”
I give him a shaky smile and stack my hand over his. “Maybe we should both stop doubting and start believin’ in ourselves.”
“Sounds good,” he agrees with a nod.
“But easier said than done?”
He polishes off his beer and says, “You got that right.”
“Hey, I don’t want you drivin’ that bike of yours. You’re welcome to crash at my place.”
“Thanks, um, but . . .”
“Oh, I get it. You’ve got a better offer.”
He gives me a grin that’s more sheepish than bad boy. I would give him a don’t-you-dare-hurt-Sam lecture but when he spots her heading back our way, I can tell there’s no need. His eyes light up when she gives him a soft smile full of promise . . . playful, sexual, but I can already sense something deeper simmering beneath the surface.
“Boone and Lilly are draggin’ behind,” Sam says when she reaches the table. “I’m supposed to tell you that Tammy’s got a photo shoot tomorrow morning and that you’ll be needed to do her hair. Either Boone or Casey will pick you up and bring you to Greystone Studios.”
“In other words we should call it a night.”
Sam nods. “Yeah, I don’t want to look rough around the edges tomorrow. Tammy will be ticked.”
“Gotcha.”
Sam gives me a big smile. “She also wanted me to tell you that Cody West will be coming to your apartment tomorrow sometime in the early afternoon.”
“Wow!” I put my hand over my mouth. “Um, do I need to go grocery shoppin’? I don’t have much in the way of food in my fridge.”
“Tammy said that Cody’s plannin’ on takin’ you shoppin’,” she says, but the tone of her voice tells me there’s something she’s leaving out.
“Sam, is there anything else I should know about?”
“Um, okay, you promise not to panic?”
“I promise,” I lie. My heart is already beating faster. When someone tells me not to panic it’s the first thing that I do. “Okay, now tell me what’s goin’ on.”
“Let’s get out of here first. It’s too noisy. You’re gonna want to hear the details. Lilly and Boone are waitin’.”
Holy cow. My panic level rises higher. “Okay.” I smile brightly while wondering if this really is my life or if I’m going to wake up here shortly and be in my bed above the hardware store.
Brandon gives me a little poke with his elbow, leans over, and says in my ear, “Whatever it is, Macy, you can do it.”
I nod and return his smile with much more confidence than I’m feeling. Once we’re outside on the sidewalk Sam turns to me and says, “This is so cool, Macy! Lilly, tell her!”
“Tammy said that when she approached him, Cody West liked the idea of doing a show giving instructions to someone . . . um . . .”
“Hopeless?” I interject.
“Well, not exact
ly hopeless . . . ,” she amends, but then with a grin comes clean. “Well yeah, pretty much.”
“Okay, let me get this straight,” I say as we walk toward the parking lot. “I’m gonna make my ineptness in the kitchen known to all for the entertainment of Cody’s viewing audience? I thought this was supposed to be a covert operation to make Luke think I can cook—not to announce to the world that I can’t.” I raise my hands skyward but I have to admit that it would be kind of cool to be on television. Perhaps I’m going to extend my five minutes of almost fame a tad longer.
“Oh come on, Macy, it’ll be fun,” Lilly says. “Sort of like a redneck version of Take Home Chef. Besides, Luke won’t know until after the fact.”
“Yeah but Cody is kind of . . . how can I put this politely . . . um . . .”
“Crazy,” Boone supplies for me.
I snap my fingers. “That’s the word I was searching for. Crazy! He dices and chops and flips stuff . . . Mercy, Lilly, I might lose a finger or something.”
Lilly waves a hand in my direction. “You’ll be fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” I tell her, but she just laughs.
“But you’re going to do it, right?” Lilly persists. They all stop in the middle of the sidewalk and look at me expectantly.
“Of course. Hopefully I’ll learn a thing or two.”
“Whoo-hoo!” Sam shouts, and gives me a body bump. “You sure have shaken things up around here.”
“Wait a minute, I’ve shaken things up?” With raised eyebrows I point my thumb at my chest. “Just last week I was cutting hair in a small town. Now, here I am in Nashville hanging out with famous people and you think I’ve shaken things up?”
Lilly hooks her arm through mine as we start walking up the hill toward the parking lot. “Yeah, having a fresh face like you around has been fun. I know you miss your hometown, but I hope we’ve made you feel welcome.”
“Ohmigod,” Sam says as we reach the SUV. “Macy, you’ve brought out a softer, gentler side of Lilly. It’s a miracle.”
“Bite me,” Lilly tells her.
“Bite me back,” Sam says, but then gives Brandon a sheepish look. “Oops, am I scarin’ you away?”
“Not on your life.” Brandon shakes his head and gazes at Sam as if he wants to gobble her up. Sam, in turn, looks as though she were melting. I glance over at Lilly to see if she’s making gagging gestures but she’s too into Boone to notice. A little pang of jealousy shoots through me, making me wish that Luke were here so I could make eyes at him as well. Then I remember he is going to be here tomorrow . . . and I’m cooking dinner for him.
Well, not exactly. I’ll be assisting Cody West . . . on television, no less. I have to grin while wishing I could call Jamie Lee and tell her of my adventures. That thought sobers me a bit since it brings home the fact that sometime in the near future I’ll have some big decisions to make. But right now I’m not going to even think about that. I’m going to ride this wave until it reaches the shore.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
17
Grillin’ and Chillin’
Bing-bong! “Oh no!” Of course I’m in my underwear when my doorbell chimes. Isn’t that just the way of things? Since it’s twenty minutes earlier than when I was told he was going to arrive, I’m praying it’s not Cody West and his crew. I’m hoping that maybe it’s Sam and Lilly coming over to help me get dressed, but deep down I just know it’s going to be Cody and company. Trying not to panic but failing miserably, I look at the heap of clothing on my bed. “Oh God, now what?”
Bing-bong!
“Hells bells!” I actually do a hopping little dance in a circle while desperately trying to remember what outfit looked the best. “None of them!” I whine, closely followed by a pathetic whimper. Even if an outfit did make me look ten pounds lighter the heap is a hopeless mess.
Bing-bong. Bing-bong!
“I’m comin’!” I shout over my shoulder in the general direction of the door, and then giggle. “Oh no!” Not the uncontrollable nervous giggles that usually end up in hiccups! “Please, God! Help me out here and I promise . . . um . . . what? Okay, never to cuss again!”
Bing-bong!
“Damn!” Oh no! “Sorry! It just slipped out!” I squeak. Reaching into the pile of clothes, all of which make my butt look fat, I grab something off the top and tug it over my head. Now of course, my armpits are starting to sweat and I wonder if I remembered to put on deodorant. I sniff beneath my arms and, thank God, encounter the scent of Powder Fresh Secret. I suppose my sweat glands are trying to keep up with my racing pulse.
In the pile I find a pair of jeans that feel a bit too snug but at this point I have to leave them on. “Shoes!” I locate leopard print flip-flips—not the best choice but at this point I’m afraid if I don’t answer they will leave.
Just before I open the door I realize that I’m wearing my WHATEVER shirt and almost say shit again but catch myself. Swallowing a giggle, I take a deep breath and then after pasting a smile on my face I swing open the door, hoping that my shoes will go unnoticed.
What? “Luke!” No, he can’t be here! Cody and his crew will be showing up any minute!
“Hey,” he says, but his smile falters at what must be an expression of panic on my face. “Um, I called the studio and I was told you had come home. I was worried you might be sick or something.”
It enters my mind to pretend a stomachache or something but then duh, it would defeat the whole day if he doesn’t come for dinner. “No, I’m fine.” I smile brightly but don’t invite him in. Just how can I get rid of him? Oh but with Luke in his worn jeans and dark blue shirt, getting rid of him seems like a damned shame.
“Good. Then I thought you might like to go to lunch since you’re kind enough to cook dinner for me.”
“Um . . . ,” I stutter while trying to think. I never was good under pressure like this. Luke frowns and looks past my shoulder into the room as if I might be hiding something . . . or someone. That almost makes me laugh.
“So?”
I blink up him with an innocent expression while my brain races. “Yes?”
“So do you want to have lunch with me?” he asks rather slowly, and then frowns. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
I snap my fingers when my excuse hits me like a slap to the side of the head. Feeling silly, I snap my fingers again. “Gee, I have Tammy’s new song playing in my head. Don’t you hate it when you have a song in your head that you can’t shake?”
Luke looks at me as though I’m one taco short of a combo but nods politely. “Yeah, um, I do.”
“Well, listen, I have to prepare your meal. It will take me a while,” I assure him, and nod briskly. I barely refrain from making shooing motions with my hands.
Not taking the hint, Luke leans one shoulder against the door frame and gives me a lazy smile that makes me want to grab him and plaster my mouth to his. “Macy, you don’t have to go to any trouble.”
I wave a dismissive hand while swallowing a giggle. If he only knew . . . “Oh, I know. It’s not too complicated, but rather time-consuming.”
Luke pushes away from the door frame and brushes past me into the room. He looks around as if he senses that something is up. Rubbing his hands together he says, “Fine, I’ll help. I love to cook. I’ll be your sous chef. I can slice and dice with the best of them.”
Crap! I do the dismissive hand gesture again. “Oh . . . no. Really.” Really comes out high-pitched and goofy, so I clear my throat as if that were the problem. I wave my hand again and then realize I look like I’m swiping at flies. This is not going well. Gather your wits about you, Macy McCoy! With a proud lift of my chin I angle my head and say, “Luke, I just want to show you that I can do this on my own.” But then I want to swallow my tongue since I’m certainly not doing this on my own . . . at all. What a crock!
Luke looks at me for a long moment and then says, “Okay, I get it. I’ll get out of your hair.”
Oh God
, he thinks I’m blowing him off! “It’s not that I don’t want you to stay . . .”
Luke angles his head in question and I realize I have to finish that statement.
“You would, um, just be, um . . . a distraction.” Ohmigod I did not just say that!
“Now that I can relate to.” Luke gives me a grin that’s so suggestive I think I might have to sit down. Leaning over he lifts my chin with his fingertip and then slowly lowers his head and kisses me. On the mouth. A sweet, lingering kiss that has me fisting my hands in his shirt. Finally, just when I was thinking about grabbing his butt—okay I wouldn’t have but I was thinking about it—he pulls back. “Okay,” he says in a husky voice that makes me sweat. “I’ll leave and let you cook up something special.” With another quick kiss on the cheek he straightens up and turns around. With one last wave and another impossibly sexy smile he leaves me standing there with my mouth hanging open.
I finally have the sense to close the door. Several moments tick by as I try to convince myself that this is all really happening to me. But before I can fully recover, the doorbell chimes again. I swallow, paste a smile on my face, and wonder just what’s in store for me this time.
“Cody West,” the famous chef says unnecessarily but with a friendly smile. “You must be Macy, the real McCoy.”
Since I feel a giggle bubbling up, I keep my lips pressed together but manage to nod.
“Nice to meet ya,” he says, but when he looks at my T-SHIRT he laughs.
I feel a blush creep up my neck. “Um, I was in the middle of changing when the doorbell rang. Just give me a second and I’ll put something else on.”
“No way! I love it,” Cody assures me, and raises his palm to give me a high five but I’m so nervous that I miss his hand. He laughs and lifts his palm to try again, this time missing my hand on purpose. “Oops,” he says. “See, it happens to everybody.” Cody’s smile seems genuine and I think that if only I could calm my sorry self down, this really could be a fun experience. He jams his thumb toward his Hawaiian print shirt sporting palm trees and tiki huts. “I’m all about casual and fun. Your outfit works for me, including the flip-flops.”