Cooking Up Love

by Gemma Brocato

  “Not sure what you mean. Grant is just Grant. I’ve never been his favorite Kerrigan, but he didn’t act any odder than normal.”

  Yeah, but…” Coherent thought fled as Jem felt Jack’s fingers run lightly up her spine.

  She turned to him as his hand closed on her shoulder and his lips lowered toward hers.

  “I think we were about here before Grant came in,” Jack murmured in a gravelly voice.

  Jem sighed and shook her head, putting a restraining hand against his chest. His heart beat strong and steady under her palm. “I’m sorry. I know I’m sending mixed signals, but I don’t think this is a good idea right now.”

  Jack lifted his head and took a small step back, questions replacing desire in his eyes.

  “I like you a lot, and think you are ridiculously attractive. I should have my head examined for stopping you from doing something I think I really want you to do. But, I have unfinished business in New York.” She took a step back, putting distance between them and continued. “I want Phil to explain himself. Honestly, nothing he can say will make a difference. He cheated on me and lied. Both are deal breakers for me. Call me old fashioned, but I expect a partner to be faithful to me. But, I have two years invested in the relationship and I want—no, I need—to end things with him before I start something new. I hope you can understand.”

  “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?” Jack asked, a goofy crooked grin on his face.

  She laughed. “Leave it to a man to focus on the smallest aspect of what I just said.”

  Jack’s hand covered hers where it laid against his heart, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I do understand. I understand he’s the biggest ass for cheating on you. I’ve walked in your shoes, so I know how much this hurts. I’d like to make it all better by kissing you senseless right now. Be assured, I do plan to kiss you very thoroughly, eventually. But, I can wait until you kick him to the curb.”

  Jem went breathless at the heat in his eyes as he spoke about kissing her. Pulling herself together, she slipped her arms around him and gave him a brief hug before stepping quickly out of his embrace. Before she was tempted to give in to the desire to let him kiss her.

  Eager for some attention, Clooney nudged between, bumping against Jem’s legs.

  “Something I can look forward to.” She laughed, reaching down to the dog and ruffling her fingers against his short coat. “I’m heading to the city tomorrow morning. I have to talk to Margo too, and the sooner I do it the better. Once I see her, and Phil, I’ll need to meet with a realtor and put my apartment up for sale. I’ll be back in three to four days.”

  “While you’re gone, I can get paperwork on the construction permits and material orders started. Save us a bit of time. I know Sam will be excited to get involved with this project too. Once we have the permits, we can start working in the kitchen.”

  “Hey, can you do a favor for me while I’m out of town?” Jem asked, still petting the dog.

  Jack watched her fingers stroking back and forth over his dog’s fur, and shifted his weight from one side to another, as if uncomfortable. His gaze was molten as he brought his eyes back to hers. The smoldering heat made her mouth go dry.

  She swallowed hard and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.

  His gaze dropped to her lips, following the path of her tongue and came back to her eyes, unmistakable desire flaring, turning clear eyes to blue flame.

  “Um.” Jem cleared her throat, breaking the spell she’d fallen under with his gaze. “Um, can you find someone who can repair the Wedgewood upstairs? There probably aren’t many people qualified to fix an antique stove. It’s probably not worth repairing, but if you’re going to tear up the café kitchen, I have to have a place to cook and try out new recipes for the menu.”

  “Yeah, I know the guy who worked on it before,” Jack responded gruffly. “If he can’t fix it, we can check out some replacement options and install something before we get going on the café.”

  Jem nodded, pushing away the thought of how truly great he’d taste if he lowered his mouth to hers right now. She smiled. “Thanks, I appreciate the help.”

  Jack reached out and pulled her hard to his chest. Her back was stiff as his fingers tangled in her hair, cradling her head on his shoulder. He groaned softly. “I can’t help myself. When you smile at me that way, it’s like this blaze of lights shooting off in my head. I quit thinking and just give in to the urge to be close to you. To hold you near, inhale you. You smell so good, like lemons and sunshine.”

  Jem sighed, releasing the tension of her reaction to his sudden embrace. She allowed herself to relax, giving him her full weight as her arms wrapped around his strong body. He pulled her closer, settling his strong arms around her waist, one hand resting intimately on the curve of her hip.

  Jack dropped a kiss on the top of her head, and gently pushed her away. Passion flared deep within her as she recognized want flaming in his eyes. “Go to New York and end it with Phil. Then hurry back, please.”

  Chapter 7

  “Margo, I need to talk to you. Privately, please.”

  After arriving in the city and dropping her suitcases at Resa’s flat, Jem went to Margo’s posh Park Avenue apartment. Filming had wrapped for the day and most of the crew worked to pack equipment away, preparing to leave.

  By prior arrangement, Resa ran interference for her with Stacey. The production schedule ensured she’d run into the source of her troubles. Resa’s job was simple: pull Stacey aside under the pretext of going over last minute details for recording Margo’s next dinner party. Distracting Stacey gave Jem the best chance to give notice in private.

  So far, the plan was a thing of beauty. Stacey was nowhere to be found as Jem followed Margo into the private office. Jem firmly shut the door and turned. Her boss had thrown herself into a reproduction of a Louis XIV chair. Margo’s taste ran to the pretentious, but Jem had enjoyed working for her. Before she could even begin, Margo beat her to the punch.

  “So, I guess this is where you tell me you’re leaving me. Are you giving notice, or should I consider this effective immediately?”

  Jem looked sharply at Margo, gauging whether the emotion she sensed was anger, regret or unwilling acceptance.

  “I…uh, that is, well…” Jem stuttered, grinding to a halt when Margo held up her hand.

  “Stop now. Will you stay if I tell you I’ve already asked the network to replace Stacey?” At Jem’s quickly indrawn breath, Margo laughed harshly. “Oh, I know all about it. The stupid little bitch couldn’t wait to come in and brag about ‘stealing’ Phil away. Like he would be such a crown on her bedpost. Let me say you’re better off without him. Stacey deserves him.”

  “How long have you known?” she asked. “How far back do I need to go to find a time when he wasn’t making a fool of me? The whole two years?”

  “Jem, you aren’t the fool in this scenario. He’s guilty, never you.” Margo snorted disgustedly. “I never liked the bitch. I’d be willing to bet she deliberately dialed you that night. Stacey told me the day after your aunt’s funeral. She made a point of saying that although this wasn’t the first time that disgusting little fu—sorry, fathead, cheated on you, his days of straying were done now because she knew how to satisfy her man.” She snorted again.

  Jem cringed, her worst fears about Phil’s previous indiscretions confirmed. Anger flared, tightening her jaw uncomfortably. “You’re right. He is a disgusting little fathead. He and Stacey do deserve each other.”

  “What pisses me off is you’re the best damn PA and that skank ruined it for me. I talked to the producer and they’ve agreed to reassign her as soon as I give them the word. I’d hoped to ward off your resignation by getting rid of her. I’m getting rid of her regardless.” Margo sighed and swore softly under her breath. “I think I’ll ask for her to be reassigned to that delightful show with the nice gay men. All those luscious men and not a single one interested in what’s between her legs.”

  Jem
couldn’t help the laugh that snuck out. It was perfect punishment for Stacey.

  “I suppose I’ll lose Resa over this, too,” Margo continued. “You two are thick as thieves. What will you do now? Run your aunt’s café?”

  “I can’t speak for what Resa will do, but I’m leaving immediately.” She sat in the chair across from Margo, near the ornate but completely fake fireplace. Leaning forward, she spoke from her heart. “Truthfully, I didn’t make my decision until this morning. I thought about listening to Phil’s side of the story, and trying to forgive him, but I can’t. He cheated on me with one of my coworkers. I don’t deserve that. I won’t tolerate it. I’m not sure I’d ever be able to trust him, or any man, again, and that’s no way to have a relationship. So, yeah, I’m sorry I’m quitting. As much as it feels like I’m running away from my problems, the truth is I’m running toward a new opportunity.”

  Margo smiled. “Of course you are. I’ve never seen you back down from anything. Phil isn’t your problem anymore. I’d put him squarely in the nuisance column. You don’t need him, and you never did.” The older woman sat forward, her antique gilt chair creaking, and grasped Jem’s hands. “He needed you and your connections, though. It’ll be a cold day in hell before he makes partner now. Without you, he can’t bring in new billings and he can’t be trusted. The partners at the law firm are bright. I’m sure they have his number. And if they don’t? Well, let’s just say they will after I invite the senior partner to meet me for drinks next week.”

  Jem smiled weakly as Margo leaned back and continued. “As far as trusting other men, Jem, it’s a big, wide world, and out there somewhere is a responsible, honest and mostly perfect male, completely worthy of your trust. You’ll see it in his eyes and may have to work to believe it. Take it from me, sister, when you do, it will be worth it. Make sure you don’t put up too many walls, thinking to spare yourself the anguish a second time around. My mother always said love was violent, you don’t step into it, you fall in. Too many walls keep you too safe. Let life come at you. It’s worth the risk.”

  Jem’s thoughts flashed back to Black Irish eyes glinting with molten heat as a sexy mouth dipped toward hers. A mouth she’d pushed away. Lips she knew would be soft and sweet on hers, if she’d let herself go.

  But could she? God help her, she just didn’t know. Having been in a place of hurt, despair and betrayal, could she open herself to the possibility of those sensations again? It was too soon to even consider. Bleakness settled on her shoulders as she envisioned a future where she couldn’t trust herself or any man. She shook thoughts of a future and Jack Kerrigan away.

  “I’m sorry about not giving notice,” she told Margo. “I know the producers love drama, but I’m not willing to air my issues on television. I think it’s best if I just go. I’m meeting Phil for coffee at three to end it, and then with a realtor at six to list my apartment.”

  “So when will your new restaurant be open? And more importantly, how can I help?”

  The sincerity in Margo’s voice warmed Jem even as the speculative look in her former employer’s eyes struck terror in her heart. That look generally led to some madcap publicity stunt destined to go wrong. Jem eyed Margo cautiously and answered, “The café needs a remodel, but I hope have it done before Easter. I want you to come for a visit soon. I’m thinking about having a grand reopening event.”

  “Do you suppose we could film it?” Margo asked, already in full scheming mode. “Since you’re a regular on camera, it would be a perfect way to tie up your departure from the show.”

  “I’ll have to think about the idea and let you know. I’m not sure how the unsuspecting citizens of Granite Pointe would react to being thrust into the reality TV spotlight.” She dipped her head to the side and grinned. “Maybe I could put you to work for me behind the counter. I’m going to need some employees.”

  Margo let out a low, melodious burst of laughter, shaking her perfectly styled platinum blond hair. “Oh, Jem, that’s rich! Believe me, you don’t want me working for you. I’m too much of a drama queen. So, tell me about your apartment. I may know someone looking for a place.”

  Jem realized her luck totally sucked as she bumped right into Stacey when leaving Margo’s office. The shock of the unexpected confrontation hit her with a fierce desire to smack the smirk right off the other woman’s face. Her palm actually itched with the urge. Instead, she glanced over Stacey’s head and smiled her thanks to Resa, who followed closely behind. Margo ran into Jem’s back as she came out of the study. One look at the thundercloud shadowing Margo’s face made Stacey clamp her collagen-injected lips over whatever snarky comment she’d been prepared to make. For good measure, Margo made a show of pulling out a cell phone and dialing. While the three younger women remained frozen in place, Margo made her connection.

  “Barry,” she drawled into the phone when the network president answered. “Darling, it’s Margo Tremont. I’ll like to speak to you about a little personnel issue I’m having here.”

  As only she could, Margo smiled coldly at Stacey and walked back to the study, slamming the door behind her.

  Jem almost felt sorry for Stacey when she saw the stricken look on the girl’s face. Almost. Without saying a word, she glanced at Resa and mouthed “later,” and exited the apartment before Stacey recovered.

  Descending the stairs from the eighth floor, her sense of triumph at the handling of Stacey evaporated as she contemplated the next hurdle—after a fast stop at the apartment to collect mail, she had a three o’clock meeting with Phil.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, she stood in her living room and scanned the room for Phil’s stuff. She’d sorted through her piled up mail, pulling out letters requiring attention and tossing the rest straight into the recycling bin. Aunt Caro had impressed the need to save the planet on Jem and she never intended to break the habit. Phil’s lack of environmental consciousness used to drive Jem crazy. He often said he was above the need to reduce his carbon footprint. Thinking about it now, it should have been her first clue that things couldn’t work between them. But she was a woman who thought she could change a man with the power of love. Ha! She could check changing him off her list. He was Stacey’s responsibility now.

  She suffered a moment of distress as she recognized her aunt’s familiar handwriting on one envelope in the stack. The postmark was two days prior to the phone call from the hospital telling her Caro was dead. Jem knew she didn’t have the strength to deal with both meeting Phil and reading her aunt’s last words. Walking over to the dining room table, she stuffed the letter in her laptop case. Heaving a deep, soulful sigh, she turned to collect the crap the arrogant fool had left lying around her apartment.

  Plunk!

  The satisfying sound of his stinky tennis shoes landing on top of his Tears for Fears CDs brought a grin to her face. How was it that she only now realized Phil had truly awful taste in music? She felt the tiniest bit vindictive when she wrapped his toothbrush in a pair of dirty boxers he’d left on her bedroom floor, but shrugged it off as she shoved the whole thing into one of his smelly shoes. Walking toward the kitchen to grab his herbal-tea collection, she heard the distinctive sound of a key being jammed in the lock on the front door. A slow burn began as she fumed about Phil’s presumptive behavior. He’d agreed to meet at a neutral spot, but again broke his word. Par for Phil. Good thing she’d slid the security chain into place when she came in an hour ago. She’d have to remember to ask for her key back. She grabbed the tea boxes, walked back to the carton in the living room and unceremoniously chucked them into the cardboard container.

  “Jem, come on, baby, let me in.” Phil called plaintively through the partially opened door. Half his face was visible through the crack between the door and the jamb.

  Without answering, Jem picked up the small box of his personal things and carried it over, dropping it near the entry. She should feel bad about the grim satisfaction she felt when the door connected with his head with a solid t
hud as she shoved against the wood, pushing it closed to disengage the chain. But she didn’t. Planting herself in the opening, she kept Phil from entering.

  He rubbed a spot on his forehead where the door had hit him. Even with the red spot on his face, he was still one of the most angelic-looking men she knew. The cold anger in his eyes detracted from the overall effect, but his look quickly shifted to contrite. Jem battled against the temptation to be pulled in by his appearance.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? Why haven’t you taken my call? Why did the doorman try to stop me in the lobby?” He adopted an innocent look, reaching out to embrace her.

  She slapped his hands away and looked at him disdainfully. “Is this how you want to play this? Innocent until proven guilty?”

  “What are you saying? Guilty of what?”

  “Get over yourself. You know very well what you did. Since we were supposed to meet at the coffeehouse in an hour, I’m sure Stacey has already called to warn you I’ve quit my job. She’s probably delighted that I’m not fighting for you. That’s why you’re here, instead of waiting for me at Starbucks as we agreed.” She heard a cold and cutting edge in her own voice, and Phil looked wary as she accused him.

  “Can you let me in so we can talk about it? I want to explain.”

  Gritting her teeth, she stepped aside, allowing Phil to preceded her into the living room. She deliberately left the door to the hallway open as he settled himself on her sofa. Following him over, she stood on the other side of the coffee table from him. Every management book she’d ever read said the best way to take a position of power and authority was to remain standing while a subordinate took a seat. She needed to feel in control and powerful for what she was certain would be an ugly discussion.

  “I’m so sorry about that phone call. Believe me, it meant nothing. It was just a one-time thing.”