Killer Cuisine

by Velvet Vaughn

  She opened her mouth to say something when laughter caught her attention. It sounded familiar. She held up a finger for Dan to be quiet and tiptoed to the sound.

  Under the other set of bleachers was Daisy, and she was locking lips with a man who certainly wasn’t her tall, dark-haired brother. This man was shorter with brown hair. Aaron! Her brother’s partner.

  Dan moved behind her. “What is it, Kait…oh, no.”

  She pushed him back, away from the scene of the crime. “What do we do?”

  “We have to tell him,” Dan insisted. “He’d want to know. He needs to know.”

  “But it’ll crush him,” Kait said, tears pooling in her eyes. “God knows why, but he loves her.”

  “She’s cheating on him, Kait. With his own partner.”

  She broke down crying. Dan pulled her into his arms and comforted her. When her sobs stopped, he pulled back and framed her face with his hands, wiping tears with this thumbs. “Do you have your camera on you?”

  Of course she did. She snapped tons of Dan on the field when she wasn’t screaming like a lunatic.

  “I’ve got an idea.” He was still stroking her cheeks with his thumbs and it felt so good. She had to really concentrate to listen to what he was saying. “We take pictures and blackmail her to break up—”

  “Kait? What the hell are you doing?”

  Kait gasped and they jumped apart as Luke appeared behind them.

  “I saw you sneaking away with this punk. What are you doing with my baby sister, Bradley? Why has she been crying?”

  Dan opened his mouth but before he could answer, feminine laughter sounded again. They all turned as Daisy appeared hand in hand with Aaron, his shirt was untucked and the top three buttons of hers were undone, showing the edges of her lacy red bra. She stopped abruptly when she spotted them and gasped, her hand gathering the sides of her blouse together.

  “What the hell?” Luke boomed. “Daisy?” His eyes widened. “Aaron? What’s going on?”

  “I-I dropped my sunglasses and Aaron was helping me look for them.”

  “Liar.”

  All heads snapped to her.

  “What did you say, Kait?” Luke asked.

  She took a deep breath. “I said that Daisy is a liar. She and Aaron were making out. Dan and I saw them.”

  “You bitch,” Daisy hissed.

  “No, that would be you,” Dan piped up, coming to her defense.

  “Listen here you little shit,” Aaron started but Luke cut him off.

  “You say another word and I swear to you, you’ll regret it.” Aaron looked like he wanted to argue but wisely kept his mouth shut. Luke looked down at Kait. “Let’s go.” He started for the parking lot.

  “Luke,” Aaron took off after him in a jog.

  “Luke, wait,” Daisy called out at the same time. He didn’t slow down. When she started to follow him, Kait stepped in her path. “Move you little twit.”

  “I will not let you near my brother again. Give me the ring.” She held out her hand.

  “Absolutely not.” Daisy cradled her hand protectively against her body. “It’s my ring now. He gave it to me and I’m marrying him.”

  “No. You. Are. Not. Give me the ring, now.”

  Ben appeared at her side, having been filled in on the situation by Dan. He looked like a thunder cloud. “Hand over my grandmother’s ring right now you conniving bitch, or I’ll take it from you.”

  “Move all of you, or I’ll have you arrested for harassment.”

  “Hand over the ring or the whole town will know what a slut you are,” Dan threatened. He wiggled the camera he’d fished out of Kait’s purse. “I’ve got photographic proof of your affair. You wouldn’t want your boss at St. Thomas to find out what kind of person you are, would you? My aunt knows the editor of the paper…”

  “You bastard.” Her nostrils were flaring. “All of you.” Daisy taught at a Catholic school and any threat of a scandal would cost her the job. Kaitlyn loved Dan so much at the moment, she wanted to throw her arms around him and never let go. Daisy tried to out-stare them but finally she huffed and jerked the ring off her finger. She turned her palm over and dropped it on the ground. “It was small and ugly anyway.” She stomped off.

  Kaitlyn wanted to deck her but she dove for the ring instead.

  “Dan the man, that was awesome,” Ben said. “Let me see those pictures.”

  Dan smiled that crooked smile she loved so much. “There aren’t any.”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “We planned to take them but didn’t get a chance.”

  “Man, you should move to Hollywood. That was an Academy Award winning performance. I believed you,” Ben said as they walked back to the parking lot to find Luke. He was standing by his truck, talking to Dan’s aunt Trudy. Aaron stood off to the side looking miserable. Good. Kait hoped he was sentenced to a life with Daisy. That would be punishment enough for anyone.

  Ben settled into the passenger seat and Dan squeezed her hand as she climbed in next. She watched him as they pulled away. Lost in the events of what had happened was her first grown-up kiss. With Dan.

  #

  Dan reluctantly broke the kiss before he lost his mind, tossed Kaitlyn into the back seat of his SUV and ravished her the way he’d wanted to for so long. God, when she’d flashed him moments ago, he’d come pretty damn close to doing just that. Big Dan had been one happy camper…until he realized he had to stay confined in his denim prison. He was persistent, though and kept knocking against the metal zipper, begging for release.

  Kait had the most perfect body he’d ever seen or had the pleasure to touch. He wanted to reach out, wrap his fingers around those fleshy mounds and never let go. And that bra, good Lord, it should be illegal. At first, he thought it was just mesh designed to play peek-a-boo with her rosy pink nipples. Then he realized it was flesh-colored fabric and that was almost sexier. He’d managed to reign in his baser instincts—barely—and then she had to go and kiss him.

  The touch of her lips brought long-forgotten memories rushing to his mind. Their first real kiss had been bittersweet. Sweet for the love he felt for her; bitter for the events surrounding Daisy and the damage it’d done to her brother. He respected the hell out of Luke—always had. What his fiancée had done to him was wrong, and with Luke’s own partner. Hell, that was worse. When you broke the bro-code, there was no forgiveness there, in Dan’s opinion.

  He’d kissed Kaitlyn many times since that fall of their freshman year, but he could never forget that first time. The feelings that rushed over him, like his heart wanted to climb out of his chest and crawl into hers. After that soul-searing meeting of lips and teeth and tongue, she’d accused him of practicing with another woman. That made him feel ten-feet tall. He’d dreamed of kissing her, fantasized about it, but he was so afraid he’d screw it up. He’d watched movies, pausing and replaying kisses over and over to study the technique. He’d even read articles. But the only way to really learn was practice. Knowing he’d done it right the first time was a bigger high than throwing a three-pitch strikeout.

  He’d kissed other women over the years, slept with quite a few, but none could ever compare to Kaitlyn. Her lips were a drug and he craved them. It’d been so long since the last time. He needed to taste her again. He grasped her face in his hands and fused his lips to hers. She melted against him and groaned. Or maybe that was him. It was hard to tell. This time when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, their harsh breaths mingling. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his thumbs stroking her satiny smooth cheeks.

  “I know.”

  Her complete trust humbled him. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to move back into his seat and fasten his belt. He started the SUV and pulled out onto the street. It was late, so traffic was pretty much non-existent as he headed to her house. He hadn’t told her yet, but he planned on spending the night. On the couch. Even though François wasn’t his fri
end by any means, he wouldn’t break the bro-code. He forgave himself for the kiss. After all, she kissed him first.

  He kept a go bag in the SUV in case he needed to leave at the drop of a hat. It’d come in handy many times and would again tonight. As soon as he angled into her driveway and cut the engine, he turned to her. “I’m spending the night, Kait.” Her brows raised. “On the sofa,” he tacked on so she didn’t get the wrong idea.

  “You don’t have—”

  He brushed a thumb over her lips. “Yeah, I do.” And he was reminded of why when he walked into her house. The first thing he spotted was a framed picture of Kait and Frankie in front of the Eiffel Tower, wide smiles splitting their faces, their arms wrapped around each other. If he had to sleep in here, he was throwing a blanket over it.

  Kait returned to the room holding sheets and pillows. He lifted them from her arms. “Thanks.”

  “You don’t have to sleep in here, DJ,” she said softly.

  His eyes tracked back to the picture. It was like a bad accident. He couldn’t look away. “Yes, I do,” he said.

  She followed his gaze, opened her mouth to say something and then shook her head. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Kaitlyn.”

  Chapter Seven

  Executive Producer Kendall Buckley stood at the front of the room and introduced the staff who would be responsible for the production of Killer Cuisine. There weren’t nearly as many as Kaitlyn expected. She thought there’d be dozens of people running around, making sure the lighting was perfect, the sets immaculate and the sound checked. Instead, a small number of personnel appeared to wear many hats, and included both Benji and Bryce, who looked beyond thrilled. Kendall told her that since it was a new show and she was an unproven commodity, they didn’t give her much to work with. Kait knew that if anyone could pull this off with a skeleton staff and a small budget, it was Kendall.

  In order to pitch the idea for the show to CuisineTV, she’d created her own company, TKO Productions, with her good friends Taylor Hudson, soon to be Costa, and Olivia Larrson. Kendall was in charge of operations, Taylor the legal issues, while Olivia was more of a silent partner since she lived and worked in New York City. Kait chuckled to herself at the tendency of her friends and family to name their businesses after their names. Luke and Logan combined their last names to form COBRA Securities. Taylor, Kendall and Olivia had settled on TKO both as their initials and for what it represented…they wanted every show they produced to be a technical knockout, as in an out-of-the-park hit. It made sense. Somehow.

  After she introduced Taylor as the legal counsel, Kendall said, “This is the director of Killer Cuisine, Lanie Harris.” A woman with a mass of short brown curls and cat-eye glasses stood and waved. “Lanie will be the go-to gal with any questions or concerns you may have. This is her first gig as director. I met her when we were on staff together at a television station in New York. She’s a hard worker, ruthlessly organized and amazingly competent. I was happy to be able to steal her away,” Kendall said with a smile. “Lanie, do you want to say a few words?”

  The young woman pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled. “First, I want to thank Kendall for this incredible opportunity. I’m really excited, and nervous.” She laughed and everyone joined in. “I just want to welcome you all here and I look forward to taking this journey with you. Good luck!”

  When she took her seat, Kendall placed a hand against her chest. “All of the people I’ve just introduced are responsible for what goes on behind the scenes. They are the unsung heroes. But as most of you know, reality shows usually have one or two people who serve as the face of the program, if you will. Contestants come and go, so when people think of the show, they picture the host or hostess. I can’t tell you how unbelievably lucky we are to have as our hostess, Oscar-winning actress and my very dear friend, Juliet LaRue!”

  The group surged to their feet and erupted in cheers. Jade waved to the crowd looking every bit the famous Hollywood actress. Kait had to work hard to remember to call her Juliet, her stage name. To her, she would forever be Jade Bradley, the love of Logan’s life.

  “This is the first time most of you will meet your competitors,” Kendall continued. “Before we get to the details of the show, let’s take a few minutes to introduce yourselves and give a brief rundown of your qualifications so we can get to know each other better. Ronald, since you are practically vibrating out of your seat, why don’t you start.”

  A young African-American man with a poof of curly bleached blonde hair on top but shaved sides of black jumped up. He waved to the group. “Hi, everyone. My name is Ronald Foley, and yes, it’s pronounced RO-nald. Maybe not by my parents, but by me.” He clapped his hands together. “I’m so excited to be here. I’m from Fort Wayne and I graduated with honors with a Bachelors in Culinary Arts from The Art Institute of Indianapolis. I’m currently the sous chef at Le Banquet, training under world-renown chef Jesper Auclair. As you can probably tell, my specialty is French cuisine, but my area of expertise is creole. But really, I like to cook a bit of everything. Let’s see, I’m an Aries and I like painting—”

  “I said brief, Ronald,” Kendall chastised with a fond grin. Kait had a feeling if allowed Ronald would talk all day.

  “Oopsie! Right. Okay, I think that’s everything. Any questions? No? Okay. Bye-bye.”

  Kait smiled at him. You couldn’t help but like him. He plopped down next to her and sighed dramatically.

  “Could you tell I was nervous?”

  “Not at all,” she lied.

  “I can’t believe I’m actually here,” he gushed. “Isn’t this the greatest?”

  “It totally is,” she agreed.

  “Shandee,” Kendall called. “You’re up next.”

  A woman stood and glided to the front, there was no other description for her hip swinging gait, enhanced by a body-hugging dress. She wasn’t fat by all means, but she wasn’t skinny, either. Her curves had curves. When she spun around, she was a dead ringer for Marilyn Monroe, mole and all. “I’m Shandee Young.” Even her voice was breathless like Marilyn. “I’m from Toronto, Ontario, Canada but I came here for school and never left. I’ve always loved to bake but I don’t have a degree in Culinary Arts. Just plain old Business, which I put to good use when I decided to go for it and open my own shop.”

  That’s where Kait knew her from…she’d seen the billboards around town promoting her bakery, Sweeties. “Although baking is my specialty, I’m quite proficient in all areas of cooking.” Kait just bet she was. It was obvious why she’d been chosen. She was sex appeal personified.

  “Thanks, Shandee. Keisei,” Kendall called next.

  A short man wearing a white bandana jogged to the front of the room. He clapped his hands together and bowed at Kendall. “I am Keisei Matsuoka. My parents are from Kawagoe but I am proud to be a first generation Japanese-American. I trained at the Illinois Institute of Art and then spent two years in Japan learning proper techniques. My specialty is Asian fusion. I have a huge following on Twitter and Instagram. KMat. Hit me up.” He bowed again and then jogged back to his seat.

  “Kaitlyn, you’re next.”

  “Good luck,” Ronald whispered, squeezing her hand.

  She smiled at him and then stood and walked to the front. Kendall and Jade both winked at her. She turned to face the rest of the group. “My name is Kaitlyn Colton and I was born and raised here. I graduated from the Culinary Institute of America as well as Le Cordon Blue in Paris. I’m currently the executive chef at Fresh!, as well as hiring out as a personal chef. Though my training is in all areas, my specialty is healthy cooking. I teach a class at the university and I give lectures on the benefits of a balanced diet.”

  “Thanks, Kaitlyn. Joy, you’re next.”

  Kaitlyn smiled at the woman as they passed but the one she received in return was fake, almost snide. Joy was overweight with a dark bob, dark eyes and spoke with a southern accent. “My name is Joy Hopkins and I’m ever so happy to
be here.” She wrinkled her nose at Kaitlyn. “None of that ridiculous healthy cooking for me, I like my food to actually have flavor. Sawdust is not tasty, y’all.”

  “Bitch,” Ronald hissed at the dig.

  Kait smiled at him. She wasn’t surprised Ronald had attached himself to her…she was a magnet for gay men.

  “Stick to the introductions,” Kendall chastised.

  Joy looked chagrined. “I learned to cook at my grandmomma’s knee and have mastered the kitchen ever since. I own a widely successful catering business specializing in southern cuisine, or as I like to call it, comfort food.”

  “Watch this,” Ronald whispered. He raised a hand and waved it like a student asking the teacher a question. “I just adore your accent, Joy, what part of the south are you from?”

  Joy’s eyes darted around the area. “Um, Atlanta.”

  “Atlanta, Georgia? My auntie lives there. What part of the city?”

  Joy narrowed her eyes at Ronald. “Indiana. Atlanta, Indiana, okay?”

  Ronald pasted a look of confusion on his face, and tapped a finger against his chin “That’s north of Indy, isn’t it?” Clearly a rhetorical question. “But…if you’re not from the south, why the accent?”

  “I like talking this way,” Joy pushed out between gritted teeth.

  “Okay,” Kendall broke in, sounding more like a referee than a producer. “Thanks, Joy. That leaves Darrin.”

  Joy gave her and Ronald a dirty look as she took a seat behind them. A man with spiky bleached red hair marched to the front. His shirt sported a Megadeth logo. The horseshoe mustache and goatee on his face was black. He had silver hoops in both ears and a thick chain around his neck. Another chain attached from his belt to what she assumed was a wallet. He looked like a younger, thinner Guy Fieri with a carrot top. Wow, Marilyn and Guy…tough competition.

  “I’m Darrin Giddens. I’m originally from Cincinnati, but now I live and work in Louisville. I don’t have a specialty. I cook a little bit of everything. I’m a chef at Trendy!. I also moonlight as a bartender and can pour a mean vodka tonic.” Trendy! was another one of Dion’s restaurants, so technically, they worked for the same boss.