The Perfect Dish

by Kristen Painter

  Meredith poured coffee into her cup. “He could get into another motorcycle accident.”

  Viv furrowed her brow. “I thought his bike was totaled?”

  “It was,” Meredith answered. “But any day now he’ll take that insurance check and buy another one. He’s stubborn that way.”

  Celia stopped humming and shook her head slowly. “He already spent that insurance check.”

  Meredith turned. “What?”

  “He already spent that check.” Celia fidgeted with her skirt, pressing and repressing the seam with her thumb and forefinger.

  “On what?” Meredith picked up her mug to take a sip of coffee.

  Celia shrugged and started humming again. The name of the song came to Meredith like a stab of pain. Unforgettable.

  Celia obviously knew something. Probably through Mick. Meredith narrowed her eyes at the little blonde with as much ferocity as she could muster. “Stop humming that damn song and tell me where that money went. I swear, if he bought some sort of extreme sports-motorcycle hybrid thing, I will never speak to the man again.”

  Celia chewed her fingernail.

  “Tell me,” Meredith insisted. “What did he buy?”

  Celia gulped down a breath. “Your ring.”

  Meredith almost dropped her coffee. “How do you know that?”

  “Mick was with him when he picked it out.” She sighed dreamily. “I wish I could have seen it. It sounds so beautiful and romantic. You’re his yellow rose of Manhattan, Mer.”

  With a shaking hand, Meredith set her mug down. Her breath hitched in her throat. He’d given away the cookbook and now this. He’d given her love and she’d hurt him in return. She’d turned him down. Rebuked him. Told him all she’d wanted from him was sex.

  He’d said he loved her and she’d told him lies.

  “I’m such a fool.” She covered her face with her hands and wept.

  Two pairs of arms hugged her, held her; a duet of voices whispered that it would be all right. She took the comfort they offered, but only for a moment.

  “I don’t deserve him.”

  “Shut up,” Viv muttered, her own eyes damp.

  Meredith hiccupped, half-sob, half-laugh. “Thanks.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I guess I did need an intervention.”

  Viv’s low chuckle mixed with Celia’s giggle. “You’re welcome,” they both said.

  Meredith’s soft grin faded as a new fear crept into her mind. “Let’s just hope I’m not too late.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Shelby stuck her pencil behind her ear, folded her arms and kicked her feet up onto the chair across from her. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here.”

  “Hello, Shelby.” Mery didn’t expect to be welcomed with open arms. She’d spent the last two days working up the nerve to face Kelly and trying to figure out what to say that would fix everything. She stayed were she was, standing at the entrance to the bar. “I’ve come to talk to Kelly.”

  “Little late for that, don’t you think?” Shelby’s eyes reinforced the disapproval in her body language.

  “No, I don’t think it’s too late. I want, no, I need to apologize to him.”

  “Hmph.” Shelby shook her head. “I’d say that’s the least of what you need to do.”

  Mery sighed. “Look, I told him up front I wasn’t interested in getting married. I tried to tell him I wasn’t the right woman, that he needed someone who could...” She trailed off at Shelby’s response. “Why are you laughing?”

  “‘Cause telling Kelly what he needs is like trying to climb a greased pole. You’re not gonna get far.” She narrowed her eyes a little. “How’d you do?”

  “Not well.” She leaned against the wall. “He told me not to tell him what he needs.”

  “Sounds about right.” Shelby plopped her feet onto the floor and leaned an elbow on top of her paperwork on the table. All traces of laughter were gone. “How do you really feel about my brother? And tell me the straight-up truth.”

  Mery twisted the two-diamond ring on her right hand. “I love him. I love him so much I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing him away.” She bent her head and stared at the toe of her ballet flats. “I was an idiot.”

  She looked up, caught Shelby’s gaze. “I have to talk to him, Shelby. I have to explain.”

  A subtle smile curved Shelby’s mouth. “How much do you love him?”

  “With all my heart.”

  Shelby shrugged like that wasn’t enough.

  Mery pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward. “I do. I love him so much I can’t imagine being without him any longer. I’ve been miserable these last few days.”

  “He might not want you any more.” Shelby’s words came out like a dare, sharp-edged and full of hurt.

  Mery closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. What a mess she’d made of things. “I know. I’ve thought about that. I’ll just do my best to convince him I’m worth a second chance.”

  The tap of Shelby’s pencil on the table filled the space. “Maybe being your boytoy isn’t good enough for him.”

  “Your brother was not my boytoy. You read too many papers.”

  “So you didn’t just want him for sex?”

  “Shelby, what I wanted him for then and what I want him for now are two different things.” Shelby’s hard gaze challenged her to continue. “I want to marry him. If he’ll still have me.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Do you think I’d put myself through this misery if I just wanted sex? This city is full of men who could fill that need. I love him.”

  “You swear it?”

  “I swear it.” Her voice cracked. “Will you help me? I need him, Shelby. Please.”

  “All right. I believe you. Besides, you helped me, so I guess I owe you.” Shelby smiled. “You’re going to need three things to get Kelly back.”

  Mery grabbed a chair and sat down. “Anything. Just tell me.”

  “The first thing you’re going to need you already have and that’s the ability to stand up to him. He’s madder than a wet hen and twice as hurt. Getting his proposal turned down may have put him off marriage for good, I don’t know.” Shelby’s forehead crinkled with uncertainty.

  “Let’s hope not. I don’t think I could carry a man that size to the courthouse.”

  Shelby laughed. “That’s the spirit. Second, you’re going need to convince him with some words he can really wrap his head around. He’s just a good ole country boy at heart and well, let’s face it, you’re about as city as a person can get. I can help you with that.”

  “I’m not sure whether to thank you for that or not.”

  “You will.” Shelby leaned back in her chair. “The third thing you’re going to need is a ticket.”

  Mery scrunched up her forehead. “A ticket?”

  “Yep.” Shelby tilted her chin down but her cool gaze stayed level. “He left for California two days ago.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mery glanced down at her outfit. She’d never worn something so foolish in all her life. Well, maybe the outfit wasn’t foolish, but she felt like a fool in it. Her cute little Chanel ballet flats were in the rental car. She could run out there and—no. This was part of her penance.

  She took a few breaths to calm her nerves and reminded herself that looking like a fool was just fine because she was about to make a fool of herself anyway. Might as well dress the part.

  One of the show’s producers walked up, speaking to someone on her headset. Thanks to the information Shelby had provided, Mery’s plan was going like clockwork. So far. The hard part was yet to come. The producer finished the conversation then turned to Mery. “The show wraps in two minutes. When the house lights come up, that’s your cue.”

  Mery nodded and flexed her hands. She couldn’t get a deep breath no matter how hard she tried.

  The producer moved her mouthpiece out of the way. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”
>
  Inhaling through her already bone-dry mouth, Mery shook her head. “I could use some water, though.”

  “Sure, right over here.” The woman led her to a table laden with coffee machines, trays of pastries and a cooler of bottled water. “Help yourself.”

  Mery twisted the top off one and downed a third of it without stopping.

  The producer grinned. “You’re pretty gutsy to do this.”

  “Thanks, I guess.” Mery smiled weakly. This was a bad idea. It was never going to work. She exhaled, hoping the lightheadedness would pass soon. This had to work. Too late to back out anyway and she didn’t have a Plan B.

  “What was Oprah like? I hear her set is amazing. She has the best lighting in the business.”

  “Yeah, um,” Mery swallowed another sip of water. “It was...really um, great.”

  The woman laughed. “Sorry, I guess your mind’s on other things right now.” She held her headset tight against her ear and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Cue music and house lights.” She covered the mouthpiece to whisper, “Good luck,” and left, giving Mery the thumbs up sign.

  The closing theme song swelled and the audience clapped wildly. Mery’s heart thumped in her chest. She wiped her sweaty palms on the front of her jeans. Calm, cleansing breaths. She inhaled a huge gulp of air and forced it down into her diaphragm.

  The cheering died down and the house lights came on with an audible thunk. An announcer spoke to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, The Foodie Network would like to thank you for attending today’s taping of Texas Spice, starring chef extraordinaire, Kelly Spicer. Chef Spicer will be taking a few questions from the audience at this time.”

  Her feet stuck to the cement. She clenched her fists until her fingernails bit into her palms. The pain cleared her head enough for her to shove one foot in front of the other. She made it to the edge of the set but hung back in the shadows.

  He looked so handsome. So in charge. So much like everything she wanted. What had possessed her to tell this man no? If he didn’t want her back...she shook her head. She refused to think that way right now.

  An intern held the microphone for a colorfully dressed older woman with the most flaming red hair Mery had ever seen. When had blue eye shadow come back in style? The woman leaned forward to ask her question. “Howdy, Chef Spicer.” The crowd snickered and she waggled her fingers at him like a two-year old waving bye-bye.

  “My name’s Emma Sparton from Lemon Cove and I’m a huge fan. I thought your show today was wonderful. I plan to watch every single episode. I have your cookbook, too, and I just adore it. You are the cutest thing. If my husband looked like you or cooked like you, I never would’ve divorced him.”

  The crowd erupted with laughter. Mery wanted to smack her.

  “Anyhoo,” the woman went on, “my question is this,” she fluttered her press-on lashes, “how hot do you like it?”

  More snickering from the audience. Mery suppressed the urge to gag.

  Kelly smiled but it wasn’t his usual light-up-the-room grin. Apparently he didn’t think Ms. Emma Smarty-pants was funny either. Good. She could still be in love with him. He crossed his arms and leaned against the front of a massive built-in grill that took center stage of the set.

  “Heat is a very individual taste. Lot of it depends on where you were raised, what you grew up with. As a Texan, I say the hotter, the better. Now if you’re from some of the New England states you probably...”

  Mery walked out into the house lights. She couldn’t hear anything but the click of her footsteps on the polished cement floor and the pounding of her heart.

  Kelly stared at her, his face a stony mask. Even the fake smile was gone. He paused then finished answering the question. “You probably wouldn’t want it as hot.”

  In her peripheral vision, Mery saw the intern working his way toward her. A low buzz emanated from the crowd, like bees trapped in Tupperware. She and Kelly continued to stare at each other without saying a word. Her heart beat against her chest, her breath stuttered and her fingers and toes went numb. Please don’t hate me.

  Panting slightly, the announcer approached and held the mike up to her. “Do you have a question, miss?”

  “Yes,” Mery said, dismayed that she hadn’t been able to keep the waver out of one little word.

  “Go ahead then,” the intern urged.

  Kelly crossed one foot over the other and looked as disinterested as if the subject had been changed to pre-Columbian economics.

  She cleared her throat. “M-my name is Mery Black and I’m from Manhattan and I...” She took a deep, shuddering breath, concentrated on staying upright. “I love you.”

  Whistles and cheers echoed in the studio space. A raspy female voice yelled, “Get in line.” Kelly’s mouth quirked dismissively. His eyebrows pinched together a quarter inch then evened back out.

  The intern started to say something but Mery grabbed the microphone out of his hand, leaving his mouth hanging open. The warm metal felt good, gave her something to hang on to. She took another step forward.

  “I was a fool. A fool the size of Texas. Letting you go was the dumbest thing I’ve done.” She tried to remember what Shelby’d told her. “Letting you go makes me about as sharp as a sack of wet mice.”

  A hint of a smile turned up one corner of his mouth then disappeared. “Might be too little, too late.”

  Someone in the audience cheered. Mery whipped her head around to glare at whoever had opened their mouth. This time she spoke to the crowd. “I love this man...” she glanced back at Kelly and prayed Shelby’s advice kept working, “more than a fat kid loves cake.”

  That got a real smile out of him, but he rested one elbow on his still crossed arm and covered his mouth with his hand. She took a few more steps in his direction. “I don’t care about anything but having you in my life. I’m sorry. Utterly, completely sorry. And you’re right, I do love you. With all my heart.” She inhaled. “If you were to ask me that question again that you asked me that night at dinner, I’d say yes. Just in case you were wondering.”

  He looked her over from head to toe, stopping at her feet. “Nice boots.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered. She stared at her feet then back at him. He liked the boots. For a reason she couldn’t quite pinpoint, her eyes began to fill. She blinked hard. She would not cry, not here, in front of all these people who would obviously rather see Kelly single. Her vision blurred and she covered her face with her hands.

  Someone took the microphone from her hand and then she was lifted off her feet and hugged against the hardest, warmest, most wonderful body to ever come out of Texas.

  * * *

  “Show’s over,” Kelly announced to the spellbound audience. A few of them started clapping. Cradling Mery in his arms, he swung around and carried her off the set, not stopping until he came to his dressing room. Shelby must have told her how to find him. He kicked the door shut, then eased Mery onto the small sofa.

  He sat beside her, waiting for her to stop covering her face with her hands. “Are you crying? Please don’t cry.”

  “I made a mess of everything.” She sniffled. “I feel like such an idiot.” Her words came out muffled.

  “Really? ‘Cause I feel pretty damn special.” He smiled. He felt like whooping but that might scare the bejeezus out of her.

  She peeked through her fingers. “You do?”

  He nodded, happy to see those beautiful green eyes again. “I’ve never had such a smart woman make such a gigantic fool of herself over me.”

  She covered her face back up.

  “I’m just teasing.” He tugged her hands away. “C’mon, you didn’t come all this way to hide, did you?”

  “No.” She clasped her hands in her lap and stared at them. “Are you still mad at me? It’s okay if you are.”

  “Hard to be mad at a woman who loves me more than a fat kid loves cake.” He couldn’t believe those words had actually come out of her mouth. All the anger he’d felt was gone, r
eplaced by an overpowering happiness.

  “More than a hobo wants a ham sandwich,” she added with a late sob and a hopeful smile.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re spending too much time with that sister of mine.”

  “If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have found you.” She chewed her bottom lip and looked like she might cry again. “I’m sorry for being so stubborn and sorry for caring what people might think and for letting my past get to me and sorry that I tried to tell you what you need. And I’m also sorry I made you give your cookbook to your mother.”

  “It’s okay, and for the record, you didn’t make me give it to her, I did that of my own free will. Besides, I already got it back.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep. Gram found out Dee had it. She snatched it up and mailed it back to me. I don’t think Dee’s too happy but it takes a tougher woman than her to change Gram’s direction when she’s got a mind to do something.” He took Mery’s face in his hands and kissed her, not like he really wanted to, but gently to soothe her and let her know everything was going to be all right.

  “I’m still afraid that being married to me might be bad luck.”

  He brushed his thumb along her jaw, studied the emerald depths of her eyes. “Shhhh. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

  “What if you get into another motorcycle accident?”

  “I’m not getting another bike for a while. I decided to invest that insurance check instead.”

  The corner of her mouth bunched up in an impish smile.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You find that funny?”

  “I was just wondering if you might have brought that investment with you, so we could make this engagement official. If you’re still interested in marrying me, that is?”

  “Hell yeah, I’m still interest—how do you know what I spent that check on?”

  She laughed. “Mick tells Celia a lot.”

  Shaking his head, he reached behind his neck to unclasp his chain. He pulled it off and held it up for her to see. The engagement ring swung between them, sparkling and golden.