‘This morning, before the ceremony.’ He unbuttoned his vest and shirt.
‘What about the diner?’
‘I gave Bob his job back.’ Jackson slipped his vest and shirt off at the same time. Her eyes went to his chest, to the strong lines and well-formed muscles. ‘Callie was happy. He’s been fixing things around the house and driving her crazy.’
‘Bob? Your brother-in-law? He was the chef before me? You fired your brother?’ Zoe blinked, slowly drawing her eyes up to meet his.
Jackson shrugged. ‘He was due for a vacation. Your working at the restaurant gave him one, but now –’
‘You’re firing me?’ Zoe felt a momentary wave of hurt, even though he hadn’t looked malicious as he’d said it.
‘Like the article said, you’re off to bigger and better things.’
Zoe looked around the bathroom, as if she could find some answer to her unspoken question written on his wall. She wasn’t ready to go. They’d just finally gotten to a place where they were talking and getting along. What would happen to them now? She would have no reason to stay in Dabery.
‘I’m prepared to give you your own restaurant. The owners were very specific about what they wanted and I think you’d be perfect,’ he continued.
‘What did they want?’ The idea of being offered a better job in one of his fine restaurants suddenly didn’t seem so important. What would happen after that? She’d have her dream job, but she wouldn’t have her dream man. At best, she could hope he’d come to visit the business he’d built after he turned it over to the people who’d hired him to create it.
‘A chef poised for greatness. It’s the position I interviewed Contiello for, but the man has proven himself to be unreliable and unreasonable. He makes too many demands and I’m not sure I trust him to have control over this project.’ He paused, studying her. ‘It’s a nice old building in Greenwich Village, not too far from the Phoenix Arms. I need a chef specializing in Italian willing to contract for at least eighteen months. Pays nice. Silverback is a solid investment group I’ve worked with before. They’re fair and honest, but they do tend to take a hands-on approach so you’ll have to deal with seven owners. The good news is that they don’t cook so you’ll have full run of the kitchen. You will just have to explain what you’re doing every step of the way.’
‘I don’t know what to say. It wasn’t too long ago that I had no prospects and now you’re offering me …’ Zoe didn’t finish aloud, but instead added silently, almost everything I want.
He leant over to turn on the shower, gauging its temperature. ‘Don’t be nervous. You’ll be fine. I’ve contacted a publicist I’ve worked with in the past. She’s arranging several interviews and a tour of guest appearances. We’ll get the full details when we get to California.’
‘Then you’ll be coming with me?’ Hope rose within her.
‘They wish to interview me as well,’ Jackson said. ‘I did discover you, after all. And, once you accept Silverback’s offer, we’ll make that announcement together. They’ll be very happy to have the free publicity.’
There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but she was too tired and overwhelmed to think straight.
‘Is that all right with you?’ He stopped, his hands on his waistband.
‘Of course. I’ll like having you there. I’ve never given an interview. Well, I did once, but it was for our high-school newspaper.’ She gave a small laugh. ‘The article was on the football team. It’s hardly the same thing.’
Jackson grinned, playfully eying her clothes. ‘Strip out of that uniform. We have all day tomorrow to discuss this. Right now, I just want to be with you.’
Her heart fluttered and she couldn’t speak as she slowly undressed. His eyes focused on her body and his breathing visibly deepened. She stepped into the shower first, sighing loudly as the warm water hit her flesh. Jackson lathered the liquid soap, using it to worship her body as he cleaned and massaged her. The smell of mint wafted over them and she inhaled deeply to rid her mind of the smell of food. When he’d finished, she bathed him, taking her time to explore every inch of his body.
Soon hands turned into lips, until neither of them could take it any more. Jackson pressed her up against the shower wall, thrusting inside her. His gaze pierced hers, demanding that she look deep into his eyes as their bodies connected. As he neared release, Jackson pulled out so he didn’t come inside her.
Towel-drying quickly, they ran to bed. Their damp bodies stuck to the sheets, but Zoe didn’t care. Jackson held her close, keeping her locked into his embrace as he spooned her body from behind. Despite being tired, she couldn’t sleep. They stayed awake, talking of recipes, of California, of childhood mishaps. Jackson whispered to her, pausing in his conversation to kiss the back of her ear and nuzzle her neck.
‘Zoe?’
‘Yes?’
‘I think I love you, too.’
Zoe giggled, happiness bubbling within her. She turned in his arms. ‘Really?’
Jackson didn’t answer as he kissed her. His hands ran over her hip, keeping her close. For the time being, everything was perfect.
Chapter Twelve
‘YOU NO-TALENT, LYING piece of –’ Zoe paused, searching her mind for the perfect insult – ‘rotten carp!’ Every muscle tightened and she shook violently. Only Jackson’s steady hand on her arm kept her from beating the ever-living crap out of Chef Contiello. The smarmy man’s smile made her skin crawl, as did the superior look in his eyes. Zoe’s nerves had been on edge since she’d flown with Jackson first class to California the day before. After a meeting with the publicist Jackson had hired for them, they’d retired to a swanky hotel on Sunset Strip.
Now, standing on the empty set of The Josie La Vella Show, she felt the tension inside her build to a raging fire. Red cushioned chairs were lined up like theater seats, arcing around the stage, which consisted of modern crimson designs. Large cameras pointed toward the front. Strange teardrop shapes curved elegantly behind wide black chairs. Unlike some shows, there was no desk, just the chairs. The studio audience wouldn’t come in for another half hour and the show’s guests had been encouraged to look around before the live broadcast.
She’d been through hair and make-up and wore a brand-new dress Jackson had had the publicist deliver to the set. The straight-lined cream skirt and jacket looked very professional, with a fun splash of green in the silk shirt. A long beaded necklace acted as the only accessory. Jackson wore a dark suit over blue cashmere.
According to everyone – Jackson, the publicist, her sisters and parents – this was the beginning of her future. The last person she expected to see in that future, standing on the set that was to be her television debut, was Contiello. No one had even mentioned him being there. Zoe had never wanted to hit another person so badly in her life. ‘How dare you say I stole from you? I should have my sister arrest you … you … treacherous piece of –’
‘Do you see what you have chosen over me?’ Contiello demanded, staring at Jackson while waving his hand to encompass Zoe. He, too, had been through hair and make-up. His face tightened, but his voice stayed low. ‘A bad-tempered child! Her lies were a mere nuisance when she worked for me, but this is too much! You give –’ his voice dropped further as he leant forward, so as not to be overheard ‘– this scheming bitch my job? My cover article? It is too much! I will not stand for this. I’m here to take what is mine.’
‘Back away,’ Jackson ordered. ‘She is a thousand times more qualified to be here than you are.’
Contiello laughed and sneered at the same time. ‘Is that your professional opinion? Or simply a man defending his whore?’
Jackson surged forward, his hand balled into a fist. Zoe instantly grabbed him. This time it was her steady hand that held him back.
‘All you have is a lot of talk to cover up the fact that you have no talent,’ Zoe said. ‘I could out-cook you any day of the week and you know it.’
‘Care to put a wager on that state
ment?’ Contiello asked.
‘Name it,’ Zoe said.
‘The recipes. When I win, I want my recipes.’ The chef arched a brow, crossing his arms over his chest.
‘They’re my recipes and you know it.’ She glared at him, as she considered letting go of Jackson so he could take a swing at him. Beneath her hand, his muscles had relaxed by a small degree.
‘Then what do you have to be afraid of? If what you say is true, you’ll out-cook me. Or do you admit that I am the better chef? After all, I’ve been trained by top culinary geniuses.’ Contiello looked her over, snorting.
‘You’re right, I am at a disadvantage,’ Zoe agreed. ‘I was partially trained by you. I’ll give you your wager. I’m not afraid of you.’
She prayed she knew what she was doing. Contiello grinned.
‘Zoe?’ Jackson asked. ‘You don’t have to do this.’
‘If I win,’ Zoe told Contiello, not answering Jackson, ‘you never come into my presence again. You don’t talk about me, look at me, think of me.’
‘That won’t be a problem, even when I win.’ Contiello laughed as he sauntered away. He headed toward a group of men who’d appeared on the other side of the set.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you. That last phone call was Callie. The producer for Battle Chefs called her. Contiello’s agent called the show, the magazines, everyone who’d listen, and peddled some story about how you stole from him.’ Jackson sighed. Battle Chefs was exactly like it sounded – a television show where two rival chefs battled it out in a kitchen. ‘This show and Battle Chefs is owned by the same people. They want to announce your intentions and your feud with Contiello on today’s show. Then, you two will meet in two weeks, with little time to prepare for the culinary cook-off. Callie’s waiting for me to call her back to confirm. We have about –’ he paused, looking at his watch ‘– fifteen minutes before the show airs to decide whether or not you accept the challenge.’
‘How can I not? I already told Contiello I would, though it seems now his people had already told him about the event.’ Zoe swore under her breath. ‘Besides, I have to. If I don’t, that proves I’m scared of him, and he wins by default. It’s time I put that jerk in his place once and for all.’
‘You’ll be on your own, no help. The best I can offer is making sure the judges are fair and impartial. A man like Contiello will try to get friends on the panel. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.’
‘How?’
‘By calling in some celebrity chefs. The network will love it. From a publicity standpoint, it’s a golden opportunity. They’ll put money behind it and you.’ Jackson touched her cheek. ‘But none of that matters, Zoe, if it’s not what you want.’
She slid her hand over his. ‘I want my good name, Jackson. And, scared as I am, I want to prove to Contiello, to you, to myself that I can beat him, that I am the better chef.’
‘You don’t have anything to prove to me, Zoe. I already know.’ He brushed his lips to hers, only to stop when a trilling laugh rang out over the set.
‘I see we’re going to have several announcements to make on today’s show,’ Josie said. A tall woman with bright-red hair and flawless skin, the talk-show host nevertheless appeared overdone with too much make-up and gold jewelry. Yet the look worked for her and translated well on to television. ‘Any juicy gossip for my fans?’
‘Only that I’m in love with Chef Matthews,’ Jackson said.
Zoe smiled. The words were coming more easily each time they said them.
‘What was that, Mr Levy?’ Josie asked, her loud voice coming across the set.
‘I said, Chef Matthews and I are dating,’ Jackson answered, louder this time so Josie could hear it.
Zoe felt a small wave of disappointment at his change of words, but didn’t let her smile fade. He’d said he loved her and that counted for something. He hadn’t said he wanted to spend eternity with her.
Zoe stopped her thoughts. This wasn’t a romance novel. It was real life and in real life men didn’t talk like that.
‘Ooh!’ Josie clapped her hands. ‘Perfect! This is going to be a great show.’
The host sat in the main chair, wiggling around in it and taking deep breaths in what appeared to be some bizarre pre-show ritual. Zoe suppressed a laugh as Jackson led her back toward the guest dressing rooms.
‘We have five minutes until the show starts and maybe another five before you’re introduced,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘Want me to help you relax?’
‘You shouldn’t have said that. Now I’ll be thinking of jumping you the entire show.’ Knowing live television and facing Contiello were so close, she inhaled sharply. ‘Omigod, five minutes.’
‘Hey.’ Jackson pulled her into the dressing room and held her close. Stroking her hair, he said soothingly, ‘We talked about this. You’re going to be fine, just remember what we practiced last night.’
Zoe arched a brow, thinking of how they’d made love in one of the hotel chairs, their bodies smothered in whipped cream from the pie room service had brought.
‘Not that.’ He laughed. ‘Though I am suddenly craving banana cream.’
She felt a stirring near her stomach, and pulled back. ‘I’m pretty sure you don’t want that poking out during the show.’
A knock sounded on the door. ‘Ten minutes!’
Zoe again tensed.
‘Seriously.’ Jackson cupped her face, turning her attention from the door back to him. He kissed her, stealing her breath. ‘You know what to say. Just remember to smile and be yourself. If you get nervous, look at me. I’ll be sitting next to you the whole time.’
Jackson watched Zoe from the corner of his eye. Somehow, her nervousness kept him calm, as if his body automatically knew she needed him to be strong. Her bright smile only belied the slight shaking in her hands as she clutched them in her lap.
The small microphone attached to her lapel carried her soft voice easily and, though Jackson knew he might be prejudiced, beautifully. On his other side sat Contiello. The man’s boisterous attitude was a stark contrast. He knew that Contiello would appear charming and sexy to people watching, but Jackson saw easily through the façade. He could only hope everyone else would as well. Josie stayed impartial during the interviews, though she smiled and flirted with Contiello, who encouraged her behavior with hearty laughs and wide-sweeping gestures.
‘I maintain that the recipes are mine,’ Contiello said, never losing his smile. ‘They were created in my kitchen, under my guidance and supervision. My mistake was trusting her to write them down.’
‘Zoe?’ Josie prompted.
‘We never worked on recipes together. My recipes are mine. I’ve been creating them since I was a little girl,’ Zoe defended herself. ‘I would never take his recipes.’ Shooting Contiello an annoyed look, she added, ‘They’re not that good.’
Laughter erupted over the audience, followed by a chorus of, ‘Ooooh.’
Contiello lost some of his ease, adjusting his position in his chair. ‘Tell that to the thousands trying to get into my restaurant.’
‘Ohhhh,’ sounded again.
Jackson knew Contiello was exaggerating, but he didn’t call him on it. He refused to get into a pissing match with the man on public television.
Zoe gave a small laugh and shook her head. ‘This is ridiculous. They’re my recipes. I even have notations of when and where I wrote them.’
‘Forged. You’ve had time to do it,’ Contiello answered.
‘I can tell you what inspired them.’ Pausing, she gave the chef a pointed look. ‘Can you even name half of them? A quarter? You don’t even know what they are.’
‘How am I to know what you called them?’ Contiello waved a dismissive hand.
‘Can you even tell me what ingredients are in them?’ Zoe demanded.
‘I did not come on here to fight,’ Contiello said.
‘Which brings us to our challenge,’ Josie interrupted a little too eagerly. ‘We’ll be right back
!’ As the show paused for a commercial break, the host turned to her guests after switching off her microphone. ‘This is good. Though I’d like to see more emotion.’
Zoe turned to Jackson so her back was toward Josie and raised an eyebrow. A staff member carrying a tray with bottled water hurried across the set. Zoe grabbed a bottle and took a quick drink before putting it back on the tray. Jackson did the same, though he wasn’t that thirsty. He’d stayed quiet for the first segment, only speaking when directly asked a question.
‘Mr Levy,’ Josie continued, ‘feel free to jump into the conversation. We want to hear what you have to say about this.’
Contiello snorted, before turning his attention to the crowd. He smiled at some nearby ladies in the audience, winking audaciously at them.
‘One minute,’ someone yelled.
‘You’re doing great,’ Jackson whispered to Zoe, hoping to reassure her. She gave him a little smile and he hated seeing the stress lining her eyes. All he could do was help her through this. He knew the goal she wanted and he’d help her get there. As for the two of them, he’d just have to wait and see where that led. She’d said she loved him, and showed it was true with small smiles and quick glances, but she never spoke of the future. Maybe, like him, she didn’t know what the future would bring.
‘And we’re back!’ Josie said. ‘Mr Levy, what do you think of this whole situation?’
‘I believe Chef Matthews,’ Jackson answered, without pausing.
‘Really? I’m not surprised. Isn’t it true you’re seeing Chef Matthews?’ Josie looked pointedly at her audience with a knowing smile, as if conveying some secret message. ‘Privately?’
‘Yes,’ he admitted, not caring that the world knew. ‘But truth is truth.’
A wave of frustration washed across the host’s features. He knew she wanted some big battle, some explosion of wills, declarations of love and wild jumping excitement. Instead she got adult calm. Well, from Zoe and Jackson at least. From Contiello she got childish snorts and flamboyant gestures.
Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance Page 20