Grill Me, Baby

by Sophia Knightly

  “You need to look at the end goal,” Mom urged.

  “The Willoughby name is at stake and we’ve got your back. You are going to win!” Dad declared, pumping his fist in the air.

  “If we blitz the Internet with your contest, it’ll give you an edge over Paolo,” Aunt Magda said. “Thousands of viewers can be reached through Facebook and Twitter.”

  “And just think of the lucky guy who gets chosen,” Aunt Willow said kindly. “You’ll make his day.”

  “You always say the nicest things, Aunt Willow. And you’re a wonderful help, Aunt Magda.” Michaela looked at her relatives, touched by their passionate enthusiasm. “Thank you, everyone, for being here and supporting me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s all nice, Mic, but you better remember one crucial thing,” Tiffany said.

  “What?” Michaela asked.

  Everyone’s attention zeroed in on Tiffany as she grinned at them with an impish expression.

  “Sex sells and I’m your new pimp,” she proclaimed, gleefully ignoring the collective gasp.

  Dad’s face darkened with disapproval. “I am not impressed, Tiffany. That is very crass of you to say to your sister. Why do you get a perverse joy from saying outrageous things?”

  Shrugging off his tirade, Tiffany giggled and popped another love bite in her mouth. “Mmm, these are good! You’ve outdone yourself, Mic.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Claudia stood in the living room clutching her new cell phone with a white-knuckled hand as she waited for Bobby to pick up. They were two hours behind in Alberta, making it seven o’clock in the morning there and nine in Miami. She had just hung up after another alarming phone call from Max Weintraub, the Woodbridges’ lawyer. The thought of them taking Mikey away made Claudia’s blood run cold. Bobby needed to know what his parents were up to so he could stop them! He also had to be told about Mikey. That part worried her because he would be furious that she had kept the news from him.

  When Bobby didn’t answer, Claudia was about to leave a message, but Mikey started to cry and she didn’t want Bobby to hear him in the background—not yet. She hung up and ran to the baby carrier on shaky legs.

  “¿Qué pasa, nene?” she cooed softly, peering into her son’s red, scrunched-up face. She picked him up and carried him to the sofa. When his mouth nudged her breast, she felt her milk let down instantly. It was barely two hours since he had last nursed, but knowing Mikey’s voracious appetite, he was probably hungry again. She remembered the Leche League lady’s caution that sometimes she might feel like she was nursing nonstop while the baby was building up her milk. Breastfeeding really was all about supply and demand.

  Claudia kissed the top of Mikey’s head as she lifted her blouse and lowered the flap of her nursing bra. At least she could feed him well, she thought, as Mikey latched on and slurped like a thirsty sailor.

  For what seemed like the millionth time, Claudia gazed at Mikey’s little hands in awe. They were shaped just like Bobby’s, with square palms and long, tapered fingers. Hands not meant for hard labor in the remote Canadian oil sands. She had no idea what her husband did out there, but she knew it had to be risky, otherwise how could he be making so much money?

  The cell phone rang, startling her. Oh God, was it Bobby returning her missed call? As she picked up the cell, Claudia felt a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment when she saw it wasn’t Bobby calling back, but Señora Fuentes from down the hall.

  “Hola, niña, do you want a break? I can come over around noon and watch Miguelito for you,” Señora Fuentes offered.

  “That would be wonderful. Just come in. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

  “Perfecto. I’m making arroz con pollo, so I’ll bring you some.”

  “¡Qué rico! Gracias,” Claudia said, grateful for a visit from the kind widow. What would she have done without Señora Fuentes? Claudia longed to share Mikey with the rest of her family, especially her mother, but Mamá still couldn’t get her visa squared away. At the rate her mother was going, Mikey would be walking before she got here!

  As soon as Señora Fuentes arrived, Claudia hugged her and then sat down to devour the tasty chicken and rice lunch the widow had brought. When Claudia finished, she fed Mikey again before Señora Fuentes took over and shooed Claudia away to take a relaxing bath.

  Grateful for the reprieve, Claudia squeezed lavender-scented bath gel into the tub and filled it with hot water, swishing it to form bubbles. She stepped in and closed her weary eyes as the frothy water covered her from neck to toes. Her thoughts inadvertently turned to Bobby again. How would it be when he finally returned?

  In a dreamy trance, she ran a soft, soapy washcloth down her throat and across her tender breasts, remembering Bobby’s fevered touch when he made love to her. She longed for him so much her whole body ached, but they had unfinished business and there were no guarantees that Bobby wouldn’t take off again on another adventure, new son or not. If he did it once, he might do it again.

  Would he see Mikey as an end to his dream of starting his business of yacht chartering? Now that she had Mikey, Claudia wouldn’t be able, nor would she want to join Bobby to work beside him on the yachts. Sailing the open seas was no place for an infant. Would Bobby feel shackled by being a dad? They had always talked about waiting at least five years before having kids because Claudia was so young and filled with wanderlust, just like Bobby.

  She exhaled a morose little sigh. As soon as they talked, Bobby would want an explanation for everything, starting with why she never went to stay with her family in Argentina and ending with why she had neglected to tell him she was pregnant with his baby. There was no getting around it though; she had to tell him now.

  All too soon, the bath water cooled, along with her nerve, and Claudia reluctantly got out and dried off with a fluffy towel. Rather than call him again, she decided she would send him a text with her new cell phone number. As she wrapped her damp hair turban-style in a towel, she heard a cell phone ringing. She donned her mauve silk kimono robe—a Valentine gift from Bobby last year—and then joined Señora Fuentes on the living room sofa.

  “Was that my cell phone I heard ringing?” Claudia asked, wondering if Bobby had tried reaching her.

  “Sí, I answered it,” Señora Fuentes said, not taking her eyes from the TV screen. She was engrossed in watching a Spanish telenovela.

  “Who called?”

  Señora Fuentes pursed her rouged lips. Even in a housedress, the Cuban widow always made an effort to look put-together with nicely styled gray hair, pearl earrings and makeup. “I don’t know. It might have been the wrong number. I couldn’t understand anything, the reception was terrible.”

  “Oh. I finally got the courage to call Bobby earlier.”

  Señora Fuentes nodded approvingly. She had been very vocal about Bobby needing to protect and support his new family. “I’m proud of you. What did he say?”

  “He didn’t answer. I wonder if it was him trying to call me back,” Claudia fretted.

  “I sure hope so,” Señora Fuentes said emphatically. “Don’t worry. If it was Bobby, he’ll try again.”

  “Yes,” Claudia agreed, but she hoped it wouldn’t be right away. She needed just a little more time to figure out how she would confess everything. “What are you watching?”

  “Pura Sangre. It’s filmed in Colombia.” When a commercial came on, Señora Fuentes switched channels with the remote.

  Suddenly, Claudia exclaimed, “Stop! Can you go back to the last channel?”

  “¿Sí qué pasa?” Señora Fuentes drew back and eyed Claudia with curiosity as she asked her what was happening. “I think that was a commercial for Maki’s show. I wonder if Paolo knows she has commercials on TV now.” If he did, he hadn’t mentioned anything to Claudia. Then again, her brother had barely been home. He had been very busy with the restaurant, Bernice’s constant d
emands about Palmentieri’s dinner party, and getting his gimmick ready for his show.

  “Who is Maki? The girl on the commercial?” Señora Fuentes asked.

  “Maki is competing against Paolo to host the Miami Spice TV show. But that girl on the commercial wasn’t her. Just somebody who looks like her. Maki is a redhead and she doesn’t wear sexy clothes like the blonde had on.”

  “Qué tremenda,” Señora Fuentes said, calling the blonde “fresh” in Spanish as her penciled-in brows knitted together. “What did she say about love bites?”

  “I think it was something about going to a website for more information about her show. They had www.luvbite.com on the bottom of the screen, so that must be it.” Claudia jumped up from the sofa. “I’m going to call my brother. He needs to get a commercial too!”

  Señora Fuentes gave her a dubious, raised-eyebrow look and shook her head. “TV commercials are very expensive.”

  Claudia sank back down on the sofa. “True…so what can he do?”

  Señora Fuentes shrugged. “I don’t know, but there must be some way Paolo can get more exposure. Many years ago in Cuba, I was an actress on television, but I’ve lost my contacts.”

  “Didn’t you tell me you still do community theatre?”

  “Yes, when they’ll have me.” Señora Fuentes sighed and raised her arthritic hands in a dramatic gesture.

  Claudia smiled and patted the older woman’s stooped shoulder. “I’d love to hear all about it sometime. Why don’t we go on the website and see what Paolo is up against?” She headed to the kitchen counter and opened the laptop. As soon as she was connected to the Internet, she typed in www.luvbites.com and up popped an interactive website featuring the same blonde on the TV commercial in a video telling about the competition and plugging Michaela’s cooking talents. After a few minutes of exploring the website, Claudia found links to Facebook, Twitter and YouTube with a gorgeous picture of Michaela on each.

  Señora Fuentes placed a sleeping Mikey in his carrier and joined Claudia at the kitchen counter. She pointed at the laptop screen. “¡Qué bonita! Is that Maki?”

  “Sí, that’s Maki.” Claudia turned to Señora Fuentes with a worried look. “Paolo had better get busy if he plans on winning. Maki is all over the web with a sexy message.”

  “Isn’t that similar to what he was planning? But he is going to have an all female audience, right?” Señora Fuentes asked, surprising Claudia that she had remembered Paolo talking about his segment called Grill Me, Baby a few days ago.

  Claudia grabbed her cell phone. “I better tell Paolo. He’s not going to be happy that Maki caught up with him in the hottie department.”

  “I can’t believe that little sneak stole my idea!” Paolo stared intently at the computer screen. Claudia was on the other line prompting him to check out Maki’s ad campaign. He clicked on YouTube and watched the segment. “Damn, she looks hot too!”

  Claudia giggled. “Sí muy guapa y caliente. Maki always looks so buttoned-up. Who would have thought she had that hot body?”

  Paolo was not amused by his sister’s observations. “What’s this I’m reading about a competition?”

  “She’s holding a contest for guys to write in and explain why they should be chosen to be her date on her show.”

  “What? That sounds like my idea, but now I’m thinking I won’t pick just one,” he said smugly. “All the women in the audience will be romanced.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to step up your game. Maki is calling her segment The Pleasure Palate.”

  “Grill Me, Baby is better,” Paolo countered.

  “Better watch out, hermano, Maki is already very popular. She has thousands of people following her on Twitter and…”

  “What the hell is Maki doing, putting herself out there with a sexy message on the net?” he groused. “It’s foolish and dangerous.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find out exactly what else that little thief is planning and then beat her at her own game. Thanks for the heads up.”

  “No problem.” Claudia hesitated before adding, “Um, Paolo…there’s something else you should know.”

  “What?” Paolo asked, impatient to get off and get to the bottom of Maki’s shenanigans.

  “The Woodbridges’ lawyer, Max Weintraub, called again today.”

  “And?”

  “They’re still determined to take Mikey away from me, so I tried reaching Bobby, but he didn’t answer his cell phone.”

  “Call him again, Claudia,” Paolo urged.

  “I will.” She didn’t sound very convincing.

  “Do it now.”

  “I’ll try,” she said evasively.

  “Don’t worry about Bobby. If he gets difficult, I’ll talk some sense into him,” Paolo vowed, unable to take his eyes from Maki’s spicy image on her website.

  Paolo’s jaw dropped as he stared at the screen. In the “All About Me” section, a neck and shoulders headshot depicted Maki leaning slightly forward in an aqua blouse, the low-cut neckline highlighting her round, creamy breasts. Her long hair had been cut and styled in tousled layers with feathery bangs that made her aquamarine eyes appear huge, especially with the smoky eye shadow she wore. Maki’s glossy pink lips, slightly pursed and parted, and that look in her eyes was too provocative for a decent website!

  A surge of lust made Paolo tighten his hand on the mouse and he had to release it before he broke the damn thing. Proper Maki had transformed herself into a hot babe, a sex kitten, for all the men to ogle. Paolo didn’t like it, not one bit! If he was reacting this way, the men tuning into Maki’s website would surely be salivating over her. She was doing a stupid thing, putting herself out there as a target for all the weirdos in cyber land.

  “Paolo? Are you there?” Claudia asked.

  He hadn’t been paying attention to what Claudia was saying. All he knew was that he wanted to wring Maki’s neck.

  “I’m here with Señora Fuentes. I’ve gotta get off,” she said.

  “Okay, call you later, Claudia. Ciao,” he said distractedly.

  Paolo was so annoyed by Maki’s suggestive message beneath her photo, he barely heard Claudia’s good-bye. With mounting ire, he read the words aloud through tightly clamped teeth, imitating Maki in a falsetto tone:

  “Hey, guys, write me. Tell me your story. What prompted you to shed unhealthy eating habits and get fit? The lucky winner gets a date with me on my show. At The Pleasure Palate, your dining wish is my command. And we’ll end the evening with my specialty…luscious luv bites.”

  The only one giving love bites would be Paolo and Maki would be on the receiving end, he vowed malevolently, his gaze riveted to the screen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Michaela and her favorite aunt sat yoga-style on a silk Balinese rug that partially covered the bamboo floor, sipping white pear tea and munching on crisp ginger wafers. Visiting with Aunt Willow was always a treat and tonight was no different.

  “You should see some of the emails that have come in.” Aunt Willow’s lips twitched with amusement. “Those guys are baying at the moon to get on your show.”

  “That bad?”

  “No…that good! They really like your picture and they seem to think they’re going to get a chance for a real date with you.”

  Michaela groaned. “Oh no.”

  “What do you think about the website Tiffany created for you?” Aunt Willow asked.

  “I’ve been meaning to check it out, but we had a fire in the kitchen a few days ago and it’s been hellish to say the least.”

  “Maybe you should take a look.”

  “I will when I get home. I just haven’t had any spare time to look. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to filter the guys and help me make the final decision.”

  Aunt Willow looked surprised. “R
eally?”

  Michaela nodded. “Really, it would be a huge weight off my shoulders.”

  Aunt Willow beamed. “I don’t mind at all, dear. I’m honored that you trust my judgment.”

  “Of course, I do.”

  After a thoughtful pause, Aunt Willow said, “One entry stood out in particular. Would you like to read it?”

  “Can you give me a recap? It’s so comfy here, I’d rather not get up.”

  Aunt Willow patted Michaela’s knee. “Me, neither. Let’s see…he sounds like he has a great sense of humor. He said he is a closet glutton, but because of health reasons, which he did not clarify, he has had to reform.”

  Michaela nodded. “Sounds promising.”

  “He said he has a great love and respect for butter and cheese, lots of it, his words again.” Aunt Willow smiled. “He doubts he will be convinced otherwise, but he loves your approach to healthy eating and wants to believe!”

  “Hmmm…sounds like he might be a jokester.”

  “I don’t know about that. He has a self-deprecating humor and his tone seemed sincere. Maybe we should ask for a picture.” Aunt Willow’s brow furrowed. “Tiffany put a notice on the website not to include one. She said you were adamant about it so the choice would not be biased.”

  “It’s true. I don’t want to base the final decision on his looks. That wouldn’t be fair.”

  “I agree. Personality is what counts. This one sounds like he’s fun. I like the way he confessed his weaknesses.”

  “If you think he’s the best candidate, then sign him on. I really appreciate you doing this for me, Auntie. Thanks.” She leaned over and kissed Aunt Willow’s cheek.

  “My pleasure, dear. It’s been very entertaining going through the entries, I must say. When your contestant is set to go, I’ll e-mail you his info.” She set her cup down on a bamboo tray resting on a lettuce-green tufted ottoman and turned concerned eyes toward Michaela. “Are you okay? You seem preoccupied.”

  “I’ve been dealing with work overload,” Michaela admitted. “Every time I try to come up for air, something new needs my attention. Just this afternoon, Mr. Blumenthal’s secretary called to tell me that he wants me to cater the desserts for a dinner party he and Bernice are hosting for Palmentieri, the famous tenor.”