Hired: The Cinderella Chef

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Hired: The Cinderella Chef Page 3

by Myrna Mackenzie


  Darcy nodded, but he could see that she wasn’t happy. No wonder. She had just told him that she was a private person and here he was digging into her life.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a stubborn man?”

  Patrick chuckled. “Yes, as well as bossy and arrogant. So, are you still in?”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?” she asked. “And please don’t make some lame joke about how I couldn’t get away. I could totally leave you in the dust if I wanted to.”

  “I’m sure you could,” he said, and he wasn’t lying. He had watched her deftly and seamlessly maneuver her chair over a place where a tree root had forced the sidewalk up a good four inches. And given her current pace, he was already taking long strides to keep up with her.

  When they reached the fountain surrounded by yellow roses in the middle of the gardens, he motioned for her to stop and sat down on a bench facing her. “All right, here comes the part where I’m not only stubborn but pushy and nosy as well. So, how did you end up at Able House?” he asked.

  “Don’t you already have all that information?”

  “I don’t intrude on the residents’ lives.”

  She gave him a wide-eyed look of disbelief. Given all that he’d told her and the demands he was making on her, he could understand her incredulity.

  “Okay, I didn’t intend to intrude. I carelessly assumed everything was going as well as could be expected, given the neighbors’ initial reluctance. I didn’t realize that there might be any other complications until you told me that you didn’t want to be visible. And, okay, that stuff about not butting in? I’m making an exception in your case,” he agreed. “But I’m not digging through your files or asking one of the directors to break trust with you—which they wouldn’t do, by the way. I’m just…asking you. I won’t know if you leave something out.”

  Darcy frowned. “So, I could lie to you…”

  “And I’d be clueless.”

  “That wouldn’t be very helpful, though, would it?”

  He laughed. “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “So, you’re trusting me?”

  “Looks that way.” He waited.

  She gave him an incredulous look. “That is so lame. How did you ever grow up to be such a success? In the part of town where I grew up, you would have been taken advantage of on a daily basis.”

  He gave a casual shrug and continued to wait.

  “I hate that you’re trusting me. It means I have to be honest. I do have a code of honor.”

  Now, he couldn’t contain his grin.

  “You knew that, didn’t you?” she asked.

  Patrick tipped his head. “The directors spent a lot of time choosing the residents. Honor would have been important and they would have gone over every detail of your situation, your personality and your accomplishments. They probably know things about you that you don’t even recognize yourself.”

  Her frown grew. “I doubt that very much, but…all right. I’ll give you the abbreviated version of how I came to be where I am. I wasn’t always in the chair, only for the past couple of years. Actually I was born in a very poor part of the city and ended up in an experimental suburban school program where a group of us with meager means but a decent stash of brains were thrown in with the cream of the elite. We were not welcomed or popular, as you might imagine, but the leaders of the program patted themselves on the back for helping the disadvantaged, the elite parents patted themselves on the back for allowing us to mingle with their children, the teachers patted themselves on the back for having to put up with our presence—the administrators hated the extra paperwork. Knowing that we were unwelcome charity cases, we had chips on our shoulders and bad attitudes, and the other students barely tolerated us. In addition, the district had budget cuts and the following year we were sent back to our own neighborhood schools where we were considered to be uppity for having mixed with the rich kids. The whole experience left me with a bad attitude about certain types of philanthropy.”

  “And you think Able House is like that?”

  “No, but I don’t like to be held up as an example or a poster child.”

  “Understood.”

  She gave him a small, resigned smile. “But we’re still going forward with this.”

  This time he couldn’t smile back. “Darcy, I was nineteen when my parents died and I was left to raise my three sisters. If I’ve committed myself to a cause or to individuals, I don’t want to be like those people who dropped your project after a year. I intend to follow through and make sure that Able House will survive whether I’m here or not.”

  “Well, then, you’ve got your woman. Survival is something I know all about.” Her smile and her attitude practically blew him away. He had a feeling it would be dangerous to underestimate Darcy Parrish. Or his reaction to her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WELL…this was certainly stressful, Darcy thought as she and Patrick continued on, proceeding down the path toward Able House. She was constantly aware of the man by her side. In a physical way. In an emotional way. She hated losing control of her emotions, but her unexpected and completely feminine and foolish reaction to Patrick Judson was leading her to do just that, and now he wanted her to—

  “All right, here’s the rest of my story,” she said, rushing ahead in the hopes that reliving those bad old days would smack some common sense into her. “After that wonderfully humiliating experience I told you about, I turned into a rebel, got in trouble, but quickly realized that was a road to disaster. Eventually I somehow got my act together enough to get into and graduate from the police academy, but just as I was about to achieve that dream, I ended up in a one-car accident that left me with some sensation but minus the ability to walk and chase down the bad guys. And then…a few things happened and I ended up here. So there, now you know everything about me.”

  His smile was warm, even as he shook his head. “I said that I was going to trust you. I didn’t say I was a fool. Some things happened, and you ended up here? All right, I won’t ask for the details, but it’s obvious even from that brief introduction that you’re a much more complex woman than you care to admit. So no, I don’t know you.”

  “And I don’t know you.”

  “Touché. I’m asking you to share, but not reciprocating?”

  “I’m not complaining. You’re not really my business, are you?” she challenged.

  “Maybe not, but I’m asking a lot of you. So, what do you want to know about me?”

  “Why did you fight to get Able House into the neighborhood? Why does it even matter to you?”

  Patrick stopped walking. “Partly selfish reasons. My life has been taken up with my sporting goods business and my sisters, and when Lane—who is eighteen and heading off to college—was in a serious accident and we didn’t know what condition she would be in six months down the road, I had to wonder what her life would be like if I weren’t a rich man or if I weren’t around. How would the world treat her? What opportunities would she have? Who would she become? Would the world even realize what a gift she was? And, when I mentioned my concerns to a physician friend and heard that there had been interest in starting something like Able House for several years, it was an easy choice to donate the land and the money. But, I would never have thought of getting involved at all if my sister hadn’t had the misfortune to have a skiing accident.” He shrugged.

  But Darcy wasn’t about to let that pass. “Lots of good things wouldn’t happen without a catalyst or a defining, life-changing moment. I haven’t run into her, but I assume she recovered.”

  “Completely.”

  “I’m glad.” Without thinking she reached out and touched his hand. Instantly awareness of him as a man kicked back in full force. Warmth, pulsing energy, a frisson of excitement ran through her. Was she insane? She’d barely been able to sit still when he’d been holding her hand earlier. Now, she had initiated contact? The instinct to jerk away was strong, but she couldn’t let him know that one tot
ally innocent brush of her fingertips against his skin had affected her this much.

  “Almost to Able House,” she managed to say. As if he didn’t know that.

  “Lead on. You’re the expert here.” His low voice resonated through her body. Darcy kept moving, hoping none of her friends would notice how flustered she was.

  “Hey, Darce, why are you back so soon?” someone called out as she rolled within view of the center. “Aren’t you working?”

  “Detour of duties today. We have a visitor,” she said, happy that her voice sounded reasonably normal. As they neared the building, which was surrounded by deep green lawns, winding walkways, fountains, flowers and sculpture, more people appeared. All were in wheelchairs.

  “Is that Mr. Judson?” one older man whispered to the man next to him, loud enough to be heard.

  The other man smiled. “Sure is,” he said. “You’ve seen his pictures in the paper and he’s been here before.”

  “But he’s with Darcy,” the man said.

  “Edward, you know I work for Mr. Judson,” Darcy said, raising her voice a bit because Edward’s hearing was less than perfect.

  Still, everyone looked a bit perplexed and concerned. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t mouth off and get fired. He isn’t here to return me for a better product.”

  Patrick chuckled and everyone turned to look at him.

  “She’s an excellent product,” he said to Edward. “Not the type to be returned as unacceptable. A great cook. Have you eaten her chocolate mousse?”

  “Oh, chocolate,” Maria said, her voice worshipful. “I love that stuff. But ask her to make you a lemon meringue pie next. It’s better than sex.”

  Instantly Darcy felt uncomfortable—and hot. She was afraid to look at Patrick but she did it, anyway.

  “Better than sex? Well, I wouldn’t want to miss that.” he said with that lazy tone that made Darcy feel shivery. For some reason the fact that she even felt that way when he talked made her angry.

  “People think that a person stops thinking about sex when they have a spinal cord injury, but we don’t,” she said defiantly.

  “Why should you?” Patrick asked. “Sex is complicated. It involves the mind, not just one or two body parts.”

  Darcy noticed that Maria was looking at Patrick with lust in her eyes. In fact, she was looking very much like a woman on the verge of propositioning the man, and Maria was a beautiful redhead, an intelligent and capable woman.

  “Now that we’re all settled in, Mr. Judson is here to learn the ins and outs of Able House. He wants to make sure we’re well established when he goes overseas soon, and he might be expecting us to go out in public and do some promotion,” Darcy said, a bit too primly.

  “Hey, okay by me. Whatever Mr. Judson wants,” Maria agreed.

  Patrick looked a bit uncomfortable. “For starters, I hope you’ll all call me Patrick,” he said as Darcy made the introductions and Patrick shook hands all around. Later, when they were alone and back at the house, Darcy repeated the details he wanted.

  “Edward is an electrical engineer. Maria is a computer programmer. Cerise was an Olympic swimmer who now teaches and coaches at a local fitness center. Laura is a fashion designer. Aaron is a dentist. If this weren’t the weekend, most of them wouldn’t be here. They have jobs.” Her tone was a bit defensive, she realized.

  “I’m not the enemy, Darcy,” Patrick said, sliding to the floor beside her wheelchair.

  “I know you’re not the enemy,” she said. “But I—I feel as if you want something from me that I’m not sure I can give and I don’t even know what you want from me yet. Do you?”

  “Not exactly. I want to know that you’re fine.”

  “I am. It’s been rough those first two years, but I’ve learned so much.”

  “Like what?”

  She got a sly look on her face. “Well…I can pop a wheelie.” She did so with ease. “And I can move from my chair to a standard chair in record time.” She pointed to a chair normally used by one of the staff and transferred herself back and forth quickly from one chair to the other and back again. “If I have to, I can get this puppy up a step if it’s not too high,” she said, patting the bicycle tires she favored on her chair. “In short, I can be a real person, Mr. Judson, and get along without help. I’m fine.”

  But his green eyes were stubborn. “I want better than fine. Don’t get me wrong. I’m awed by the fact that you can manage in ways most people couldn’t, but those reluctant, inconsiderate neighbors of ours…”

  “They want celebrity,” she said. “Ceremony. Pretty wrapping paper with all the trimmings. If I were a rock star who just happened to be in a wheelchair, they’d welcome me.”

  He didn’t look away from her direct gaze. “You’re right and I’m not about to apologize for them. They’re wrong.”

  “But you still want me to…to what?”

  “I want you to make them envy you, to show them that the community would be diminished by the loss of all of you.”

  “We shouldn’t have to do that.”

  “You’re damn right about that,” he said, angrily. “But if I get overseas where I’m not in easy reach and someone hires some legal eagle team and tries to do some workaround scheme to close down Able House…I’m trying to prevent them from even wanting to attempt that. That’s all. All right?” he asked.

  Darcy pursed her lips and gave a reluctant nod. “If you put it that way…if we’re gearing up for a fight of sorts…” Her words ended on a harsh laugh and she looked up and blinked, trying not to show her frustration. Sometimes it felt as if she’d been fighting all her life. For money. For respect. For the right just to exist.

  “I’m not trying to punish you, Darcy,” Patrick said, and he cupped her jaw with his palm, kneeling next to her chair. “Really. It’s not like that at all.”

  His hand against her skin produced an instant reaction, an awareness of him as a man. Darcy struggled to think to continue breathing. “I know you’re not trying to punish me,” she managed to say. “I’m so…grateful for Able House. All of us are. Couldn’t you hear it in their voices when they spoke to you today?”

  “I don’t want you to be grateful, although I appreciate the thought. I want you to…not have to justify having your home here.”

  “But we will, won’t we? Just by having to take the extra steps other people don’t have to take, we’ll work for the right to stay.”

  “Yes, and it’s not right,” he said with a groan, sliding to the ground beside her.

  “What are you doing?” She looked down at him.

  He looked up at her and smiled. Her heart thumped. “Making myself short,” he said. “Do you mind?”

  She laughed. “Well, I’ve gotten used to looking up people’s noses, but no, I welcome the chance to look someone other than my friends at Able House in the eye.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  No, don’t, she wanted to say. Don’t be too nice to me. Don’t make me want things I can’t possibly have. Because she had once had things she wanted and had them taken away. Love had been one of those things.

  She tried not to think of the other thing, the unborn baby she had lost and that terrible day afterward when she had lost that last sliver of faith that she could ever try to become a mother again. Darcy fought not to remember all of that…and failed.

  “So, why are you going overseas?” she asked, wanting to change from the subject of loss to something more positive.

  Patrick shrugged those big, broad shoulders. “It’s time. I’ve been running the company for years, raising the girls. Now, they’re grown and I have things I’ve put off that I want to do. I’m twenty-nine, still single, I run a major international company that sells sporting goods, but while I love adventure sports and risk-taking, I haven’t taken any risks.”

  Darcy gave him an “are you kidding me” look. “I thought you said you raised three sisters. Sounds like risk-taking to me.”

  To her c
onsternation, he moved closer, resting his arms on the side of her chair so that he was very close. “Are you teasing me, Darcy?”

  No, she was torturing herself. But she wasn’t going to back down. “I’m just saying it couldn’t have been easy.”

  He moved away and went back to leaning against the wall. “I loved it, totally, but…you have no idea.”

  “No. I’ve never had any children.” And never would now. Not after losing her baby in the accident, not when she wasn’t going to get married, ever, and not if she couldn’t be the kind of mother she wanted to be. So much for avoiding that heart-constricting pain.

  She looked up and saw that Patrick was studying her closely. So, she dove into survival mode and forced a smile. “So, tell me more about your upcoming trip.”

  He continued to study her for a few more seconds.

  “Please,” she said.

  He nodded. “It’s one of those trips that’s the result of too many years of daydreams. Probably too long and too expensive and too monumental in scope, but I can’t wait. Several months spread out over a number of continents. Part of it will be spent on business and part will be a series of charitable fund-raisers built around adventure sports. We’re hoping to draw big crowds and really make a difference.”

  He held out his hands. “It’s a very meaty venture, a long time in the making, and yeah, I’m pumped, even though I feel just a little guilty. It sounds as if I couldn’t wait for the girls to grow up so I could have a life.”

  Darcy leaned forward, closer to him. “Why should you feel guilty? You’ve worked hard, everyone knows your company is a success. You raised your sisters and…how old are they?”

  “Twenty-five, twenty-three and eighteen. Cara and Amy are married and have children of their own.”

  “Well, then, there’s no problem, is there? They’re grown, and they’re not going to care what you do.”

  Patrick gave her a look of disbelief. “You haven’t met my sisters.”

  No, she hadn’t. But that changed a few hours later when the doorbell rang, and she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Lots of footsteps. She’d been told to prepare food for a few extra mouths, but it sounded as if an entire army had arrived.

 

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