The Wedding Dance

by Lucy Kevin

  What was he doing in her kitchen? Had he finally realized who she was? Had he come to gloat?

  Or, maybe, to apologize for what he’d done?

  Knowing anything she really wanted to say to him would get her instantly fired by Rose, Julie settled for, “I’m not sure you should be in here.”

  “No, it’s fine—”

  “Julie,” she reminded him, like he hadn’t just been told her name a few minutes ago. “Julie Delgado.”

  Was there a flicker of recognition in his eyes? Did he even vaguely remember her name?

  Then again, why would he? He was a famous chef. She was a nobody who couldn’t keep her own kitchen open and was now cooking for scraps at a wedding venue.

  “I asked Rose before I came in to see the kitchen where the food for the wedding might be prepared.”

  “Might be?”

  “My brother and his fiancé deserve the best. I promised I’d cast my chef’s eye over it as my wedding gift to them. Which is why I’d appreciate it if you could bring the desserts out with the main courses and stay with us as we go through everything.” He flashed that brilliant smile of his. “After all, I’m sure the two of us will have a lot to talk about.”

  For a moment, Julie wondered if he meant the review, but those darn dimples of his were turning her brain just enough to mush so that all she could manage was, “Will we?”

  “Sure,” Andrew replied, with another smile.

  Oh my God, after all he’d done, was he actually flirting with her?

  Julie just barely resisted the urge to hit him with the nearest thing on hand, but only because it happened to be a saucepan full of steadily reducing plum sauce. Of all the arrogant…

  Again, Julie forced herself to take a deep breath and reminded herself that since she obviously wasn’t important enough for the big star to remember, why wouldn’t he try out the charm that had everybody else fooled?

  “I’d be happy to bring out everything at once,” Julie said, if only because it seemed like the quickest way to get him out of her kitchen. “Just give me a minute or two.”

  Actually, it was more like ten, but at least for those blissful minutes, Julie didn’t have to worry about anything more serious than whether her gateaux had set properly, and how she was possibly going to balance everything. As fun as it might be to dream of ‘accidentally’ tripping and covering Andrew Kyle with food, Julie knew perfectly well that she wasn’t going to do it.

  In the end, she was surprised when Andrew got up to help her with the plates and even made a trip to the kitchen to carry out the desserts.

  Once they sat back down, Andrew examined the plates with a critical eye. Beside him, Rose’s expression was indecipherable. Of course, she was probably as concerned as Julie was that this should go well, and if she’d ever watched Edgy Eats–or read one of Andrew’s restaurant reviews–Rose would know how harsh his judgments could be.

  Taking a spare seat at the table, Julie looked at the plates that held the first course. What reception had Andrew given them?

  It was impossible to tell with any certainty. He hadn’t eaten much of each dish, but he’d clearly eaten some of everything, so maybe that was a good sign. She fidgeted, then clasped her hands under the table to keep them still. She risked another glance at Rose, but there were no clues there.

  “I’ve already tried the seafood and salad, but let’s finish trying everything else and then I’ll give you my thoughts at the end.”

  Watching Andrew Kyle eat was an experience. He didn’t talk between bites, as though that would in some way spoil his concentration. Instead he assembled the food carefully on his fork, closing his eyes and letting his nose take in the scent of it for a moment before he finally pushed it into that sensuous mouth.

  Julie found herself briefly entranced by the way he clearly wanted to involve as many of his senses as possible, by the fact that he seemed to treat food as something truly important.

  Of course, that didn’t make up for the way he kept Julie and Rose waiting while he tasted everything. In fact, the only time he spoke at all was about halfway through, when he glanced up and raised an eyebrow.

  “Aren’t you going to join in, Julie?”

  “Worried I might have done something to the food?”

  Andrew laughed at that although Rose was clearly less than pleased by the barely veiled testiness in Julie’s question.

  “Come on, join me. I always feel weird tasting things alone. Rose?”

  Rose held up her hands. “I just had lunch.”

  Andrew returned his gaze to Julie. “Looks like it’s just you and me, then.”

  It was clearly a challenge. Besides, Julie knew she was never going to get away with the same excuse as Rose.

  She picked up a fork and attacked the sample dishes she had produced as best she could. She’d always eaten like that; Aunt Evie sometimes laughingly asked if she thought her food was going to be snatched away in a minute.

  Julie worked to concentrate on the taste of everything, looking for anything that the celebrity chef might try to pick up on. Were the scallops perfectly seared? Was the texture of the cake right? Was there any little mistake at all that was going to cause a problem?

  She almost sighed with relief as she tasted the results of her efforts. As far as she could tell, everything had come out without any problems at all.

  Poke holes in that, Andrew Kyle.

  Apparently, Rose was as eager to know the outcome as Julie was. “What do you think?” she asked Andrew.

  Julie couldn’t help noticing the way Rose’s tone became so much more formal around an important client.

  “Is everything to your satisfaction?”

  Andrew put his fork down carefully. “It’s all well cooked,” he said. “The scallops are nicely done and the fish goes well with them. The salad is crisp and fresh. The plum sauce with the duck is just right, and I like the richness of the gateaux.”

  “Well, that’s great,” Rose said. “I’m sure that Julie can produce everything to exactly the same standards come the actual wedding day.”

  “I’m sure of that too,” Andrew said.

  But, somehow, the compliment didn’t make Julie feel as warm and fuzzy inside as it should have. Maybe it was the tone in which he said it.

  Rose seemed determined to ignore his less than thrilled tone. Or maybe she just hoped that if she pressed on, everything would be fine. “Why don’t you sign off on the menu, then, Mr. Kyle, and we’ll—”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” Andrew said, shaking his head.

  “But you just said—”

  “The food is well prepared,” he said, “but, unfortunately, it’s too bland.”

  Bland.

  It was the same word he’d used about her restaurant.

  Julie’s hands closed on the tablecloth. “Bland?” she repeated.

  Andrew nodded. “As I said, it’s fine, it’s just…frankly, it’s wedding food.”

  “That’s what this food is for,” Julie had to point out. “A wedding.”

  “Yes, but it’s for my brother’s wedding, and I’m sorry, this menu won’t work. It’s been done. There’s nothing exciting here. There’s no twist on any of the classic dishes, and there isn’t anything innovative, either. This is my wedding gift to my brother and his fiancée. It needs to be special. But nothing about this menu makes it clear that their wedding is a really special occasion.”

  Julie thought the part where there would be a bride and groom saying “I do” in front of a few hundred people might be a clue as to the specialness of the occasion, but, of course, she wasn’t going to say that. Besides, just then, she was too busy remembering the first time Andrew Kyle had made these comments about her food. Remembering how much it had hurt.

  About as much as it hurt right now, come to think of it.

  “So what is it you want?” Julie asked. She very carefully kept her voice level. Completely devoid of emotion.

  Even so, Rose shot her a look
before taking over the negotiations. “Yes, perhaps if you describe exactly what it is you do want, we will be better able to provide it.”

  Andrew smiled at them, actually had the nerve to pull those gorgeous lips of his up at the corners as if nothing was wrong. “Something special. Something different. Something with a bit of imagination to it.”

  He focused his gaze on Julie and she refused to let her heart go pitter-patter, darn it.

  “Something you couldn’t cook in your sleep, Julie.” Another smile. “This wedding is a big deal for our family and I know you can come up with something better than what you’ve served me today.”

  Thank God at least one of them knew it, Julie thought as Rose dove in to try to salvage the situation.

  “Are you sure we can’t—”

  Andrew raised a hand to cut her off. “I’m sorry, but I’ll need to see a completely revised menu before I can agree to sign off on anything.”

  “I see,” Rose said. She didn’t sound happy about it.

  Julie didn’t blame her, especially since right then she was undecided between slipping out the back door and making for the border, or sticking pins in a doll with Andrew Kyle’s “perfect” features—maybe adding a few new dimples while she was at it.

  “Look,” Andrew said, “I’d like to come back so that we can throw a few ideas around. Between Julie and myself, I suspect we can come up with something that’s perfect for the wedding.”

  He’d just demolished her cooking for the second time in a few short months, and he thinks she would want him around?

  “What a wonderful idea,” Rose said before Julie could flat-out refuse to ever see Andrew Kyle again. “Our aim at the Rose Chalet is to make sure the day goes exactly the way the happy couple wants it. Julie would be happy to brainstorm menus with you, wouldn’t you, Julie?”

  Since the question was obviously rhetorical, Julie mumbled something that could be taken as a yes.

  Rose stood. “Andrew, if you have a few more minutes, I’d like to talk you for a walk around the Chalet to get a feel for the place. My full staff isn’t here at the moment, but we can start to discuss a few options.”

  Julie had never been so grateful for anything as when Andrew agreed. Ordinarily, with a guy like him, she would have watched him go just because she couldn’t not stare. Today, however, it was simply to make sure he was well and truly gone before she let out a sigh and slumped down in her seat.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  ...Excerpt from THE WEDDING GIFT by Lucy Kevin ©2011.

  Buy THE WEDDING GIFT for your Nook

  * * *

  SPARKS FLY

  © 2011 Lucy Kevin

  Angelina Morgan is a beautiful consultant who practices an ancient art form called Feng Shui. Will Scott is an all-business CEO who doesn't believe anything he can't see and touch. With the help of a meddling ex-wife, a well-meaning best friend, and a matchmaking mother, Angelina and Will are about to find out what happens when opposites attract...and sparks fly.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for SPARKS FLY...

  Angelina was halfway up the path to Will’s front door when he came around the side yard and called out her name. He saw surprise flash across her pretty face a split second before she tripped on the edge of a brick that was sticking up a half-inch too high.

  Will flew across the lawn as quickly as he could and caught her, glad for the excuse to find out what it felt like to hold her.

  It felt good.

  Really good.

  Angelina pulled away to stand on her own two feet. “Thanks for catching me. I’m not usually this clumsy.”

  Will had to fight the urge to pull her close to him again. Frankly, he was still more than a little perplexed by his attraction to a woman who was the polar opposite of his usual Barbie dolls.

  Angelina asked, “Are you ready to get started?” and snapped Will out of his fog.

  “Sure.”

  They went inside and she said, “Why don’t you take me through your house and tell me what you like and don’t like about each room. Let’s start with your foyer. How do you feel about it?”

  The first totally inappropriate thought that popped into his head was, I love it when you’re in it, but he settled for, “It’s okay, I guess.”

  Scanning the room, Angelina moved to stand in front of a painting. “Does this make you happy?”

  The truth was, Will couldn’t have cared less if the painting made him happy. But when he really looked at it for the first time, he saw that the artist had used acrylic on canvas to depict a sad man who stood in the middle of a wet, deserted street.

  The painting sucked. “I don’t like it.”

  “Why don’t you like it?”

  “It’s depressing and besides, even I could do a better job than—” Realizing he was saying too much, Will cut himself off.

  Angelina pinned him with a questioning look.

  Inwardly cursing himself for divulging any information at all about his personal life, Will said, “Seems like anyone could do a better job than this artist did.”

  “Feng Shui is all about living with what you love. When we get rid of the things that bring us down and replace them with things that make us happy, we open ourselves up for good things to happen in our lives.” Grinning, she added, “Don’t be surprised if taking this painting down gets you the woman of your dreams.”

  “If that’s the case,” Will said as he reached for the painting, “let’s get this pathetic loser off my walls ASAP.”

  Angelina could barely keep from laughing as she helped Will lift the heavy frame. Men were so predictable.

  Will surveyed the new look of his foyer. “It looks better already.”

  Angelina was pleased that she could finally grace him with a genuine smile, and right then and there she decided she was going to maintain a nice, agreeable banter with him throughout the rest of the consultation. No matter what.

  Getting back to business, Angelina did a quick scan of the kitchen/family room. “You’ve got an awful lot of the fire element in here.”

  “The fire element?”

  “There are five elements: fire, water, metal, earth, and wood. The fire element is in your red rug, your fireplace, and your electronics.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “Well, not bad, exactly. Just not balanced.”

  “Maybe I should just take all of this to the dump and start over.”

  Angelina was surprised by her own chuckle. She’d barely replied with, “Not unless you hate everything in here,” when she made the mistake of looking into his incredible blue eyes.

  Her mouth went completely dry. Again.

  Oh God, what was she doing? She knew better than to look at a wealthy, good-looking man like Will Scott with stars in her eyes. She was a twenty-six-year-old woman who had never gotten over her broken heart or her deep sense of shame from being so easily used.

  And Will definitely had heartbreak written all over him.

  ...Excerpt from SPARKS FLY by Lucy Kevin ©2011.

  Buy SPARKS FLY for your Nook

  * * *

  FALLING FAST

  © 2011 Lucy Kevin

  When Alexa is sent by a magazine to be an undercover contestant on the reality TV series "Falling For Mr. Right" she assumes the worst part of the assignment will be having to act like a brainless bimbo to win the affection of an arrogant guy out looking for his 15 minutes of fame. Color her shocked when it turns out not only are several of her fellow contestants intelligent, funny women...but Brandon – aka Mr. Right - isn't at all the kind of guy she thought he'd be.

  What's Alexa supposed to do when instead of digging up dirt for her cover story, she finds herself falling way too fast for the guy she’s supposed to tear apart in her first big feature story?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for FALLING FAST...

  “You want me to do what?” Alexa Atkison said, her voice dripping with disbelief.

  Alexa's editor, Jane, pushed he
r glasses up more firmly on her nose and looked pointedly through them at Alexa. “You’re the one who has been on me about doing the bigger stories. I’m dropping this one into your lap.”

  Alexa opened her mouth to argue and then realized her thoughts were better left unsaid, particularly to her all-powerful boss. So instead of shooting off at the mouth, she took a deep breath and tried, on the fly, to work out the best tactic for steering Jane toward a less objectionable story.

  “What about drugs? Or gambling rings? Don’t you have something scary and dirty that I could investigate instead?”

  “No,” Jane said, her lips tight. “I’m handing you this assignment on a silver platter. Once you sign the confidentiality agreement, we can discuss the details of your makeover.”

  Surprise registered on Alexa’s face. “Makeover?”

  “While the editorial staff agrees that you are a perfect fit for the assignment, it is, nonetheless, clear that you need professional help with your appearance.”

  Alexa looked down at her clothes. “What does my appearance have to do with this assignment?”

  Unsmiling, Jane replied, “Everything.”

  Alexa didn’t like being boxed into a corner one bit. Silently, she reassessed her options. Sure, Jane had offered her a huge story, and yes, she desperately wanted the chance to prove herself as a feature writer, as opposed to the fact checking and proofreading she had been doing for the past year, but she also had a healthy dose of self-respect which she didn’t plan on letting go of any time soon. Trying for diplomacy, Alexa cleared her throat and mustered up her most cooperative expression.

  “Look, Jane, I really appreciate this opportunity, and I’m more than willing to go the distance with it, but as I see it, all I need to do is get picked as a single-girl-in-need-of-a-husband by a bunch of dopey TV execs, make it onto as many episodes as possible, and scrounge up dirt on everyone involved, right?”

  Jane cut right to it. “I’m as disgusted by primping and makeup as you are, Alexa. But you aren’t going to be much use to us on this story looking like…” Jane’s words drifted off and she scrunched up her nose in just the way one did when blue cheese had been left out on the counter for too long.