A Sure Thing

by Brit Blaise

  "I don't want to get into this with you. You and I are business partners. What I do with my personal life is off limits. Quit changing the subject."

  "I'm not changing the subject. I'm just trying to protect you. I wanted you to see she isn't right for you,” Felicia said as walked to the liquor cabinet and poured a drink.

  "What you did to Cara during class qualifies as downright malicious, and she's out there with a smile on her face despite what you did.” Mike would never forget what Cara had done. Getting him off, in a crowded room with cameras aimed at him and capturing his reaction, had been erotic in the extreme.

  "Maybe I'm jealous,” Felicia said, putting her glass to her lips.

  "What do you have to be jealous of with Cara? Remember, you're the one who broke up with me.” He picked up the glass paperweight Felicia had given him after he'd asked her to marry him. He stared at the colorful glass, certain Felicia would never have done what Cara had. She hadn't even liked to give him oral.

  "You couldn't really be serious about her. You two are as different as night and day. You need someone with the same goals you have. And you've never dated any chubby women before."

  There it was. He'd wondered how long before he'd have to deal with it. “Chubby? She's voluptuous. Why don't you worry about your own love life? I have more in common with her than you know."

  "The wedding is off. Carl and I have called it quits.” Felicia appeared ready to burst into tears.

  "What happened?"

  "Cara Thomas is what happened. Carl heard me call and give instructions to get you out of your office last night. He wanted to know why. I told him I wanted to keep you and that woman apart."

  "Why? It's been more than two years since you and I split. Now you decide to become a meddling ex? No wonder Carl is upset with you, but I hardly think poor judgment should break up your relationship."

  "I told him I'm still in love with you.” Felicia's voice shook as she turned toward his bar, not looking at him.

  "Guess this explains why you wanted to make me look like a fool in front of Mike.” Cara's voice came from behind him. His heart dropped in his chest. How long had she been listening?

  "I think you could've warned me,” Cara said as she moved closer to confront him. The pain and disappointment, razor sharp in her voice, made him wince.

  "I didn't have a clue Felicia would pull a stunt like she did today.” He crossed the room, closing the distance to Cara, only to discover the chasm separating them had nothing to do with space. “It never entered my mind."

  "Did it enter your mind to tell me you two are still an item?” Cara backed toward the door, making him wonder if she was preparing to bolt.

  "Felicia is my partner and nothing more. She never will be.” He kept his voice low and controlled, resisting the compulsion to look at Felicia as he spoke to Cara, but hearing a sharp intake of breath as his words registered.

  "It would appear somebody should've told Felicia. Let me know if and when you get this straightened out.” Cara turned and walked away.

  Mike didn't try to stop her. Cara was right. He needed to set the record straight with Felicia before she managed to do irreparable damage. He walked to the bar and poured her favorite. “Would you like another drink, Felicia?"

  She joined him at the bar. “Why? Do you think I'm going to need one?"

  "It's been two years since we called it quits. Just when I find someone I can really like, you drop this bomb on me. I meant what I told Cara. I don't want to get involved with you again. I can't be with someone who thinks I'm a liar."

  "I thought you were a philanderer, but I never accused you of being a liar,” Felicia said.

  "I didn't cheat on you. I told you more times than I can count. Since you didn't believe me, obviously you thought I lied. I won't go back to living like that ever again."

  "Right,” she said sarcastically.

  Mike had no doubt she still couldn't believe she'd misjudged him. He didn't care. It was her problem, not his.

  "You'd better think about looking into finding some financial backing to take over the restaurant or name a price for your share of the business. I won't work with you another day if you do anything else to ruin my chances with Cara."

  "You'd throw everything away for a woman you've only known for a week?"

  "Try me,” he said as he walked out.

  * * * *

  Cara felt numb as she got into a cab for the drive home. She regretted leaving her rental car in the parking lot of Mike's restaurant, but she had no choice. The martinis didn't give her one.

  Only a few minutes earlier, with his big cock in her mouth, life couldn't have been sweeter. Could she really have been so wrong about him? She thought about it and decided not to form an opinion until she knew the facts. Besides, Cara had good reason to see him again when she picked up her car.

  A horn honked to make her wonder what the poor driver had done to earn the unwelcome attention of her cabbie. A quick glance at the speedometer told her they were doing sixty in a thirty-five-mile-an-hour zone. She had no intention of arguing with a cab driver after everything she'd been through. The glaring neon sign of a local diner in the distance ahead caught her attention.

  Cara weighted her choices—stay in the cab with an irresponsible driver or walk into a crowded dinner with a red nose. What the heck.

  "Pull over at the diner up ahead on the right.” She found her mirror in her purse to see how bad she looked. In the dim light it didn't seem so bad. A greasy burger and fries would do wonders for the alcohol sitting in her empty stomach.

  "That ain't where you said you was goin'."

  "I changed my mind. Pull over,” she growled. Only a crazy man would argue with her right then.

  As she walked through the door into the diner, her cell phone rang. Everyone in the place looked in her direction as she fumbled with her purse to get to it. They didn't stop looking once they started.

  "Hello?” she said lowering her face so she wouldn't have to see the reaction to the unfortunate spot covering the end of her nose. Of course nobody could see the spots on her suit or her hands...

  "Cara, don't hang up,” Mike said. “Your mother gave me this number."

  "You think telling me my mother gave my cell number to you is in your favor?"

  "Yes ... no ... I don't know. I need to talk to you. Where are you?"

  "About to have a bronco burger and frisky fries."

  "Be there in a couple of minutes."

  Click.

  Cara held the phone out in front of her, staring at it in disbelief. A couple of minutes? Chef Mike Nichols knew Bronco Burgers?

  Cara made her way along the narrow aisle until she found a stool at the counter between two lumberjacks, big guys.

  "Excuse me,” she mumbled as she crowded between them and shimmied up onto the shaky stool. If this wasn't reason for a diet, what was?

  One man had a burger stuffed against his face like corn on the cob. He seemed oblivious she'd become intimately acquainted with his left side as she climbed onto her stool. The other man took perverse pleasure in staring as if she had something on her face.

  "Hey, aren't you the little lady on the cooking show?” the man eventually asked.

  "Imagine that. I have a fan club.” She forced a smile as she turned to look at him. He had a friendly face. In fact, he had a darned good-looking face.

  "What happened to your nose?"

  "Another show."

  He nodded. “Bet it'll be a good one."

  Cara stared at the menu card until the waitress made an appearance. “Bronco burger, frisky fries and a double chocolate malted.” However, the women seemed content to just stand across the counter and stare open-mouthed.

  "You mean the choc-a-malta?” the woman asked in due course.

  "You aren't going to force me to say it, are you? Frisky fries isn't bad enough?"

  When the waitress continued to stare as if she didn't have a clue what she meant, Cara surrendered. “
Yes, the choc-a-malta. Make it a double and top it with whipped cream and a cherry."

  "What's wrong with your face and hands, honey? You aren't contagious, are you?” Despite the crowd, the waitress seemed in no hurry to leave.

  "Red dye. You've never tried it?"

  "Now why would I want to do that?” The woman rolled her eyes.

  "They say it attracts hunky guys, with deep blue eyes and bulging muscles. I thought I'd give it a try.” Cara pulled a napkin out of the container sitting on the counter and laid it across her lap.

  The man sitting next to her laughed.

  "I think somebody's been feeding you a load of—Well, I'll be damned!” The waitress’ gaze was locked on a spot over Cara's shoulder.

  "Blue eyes?” Cara asked.

  "Blue as the berries in a pie."

  "Muscles?"

  "He's a big one alright. I wouldn't throw him back."

  "Sure you don't want to try some red dye?” Cara said, before she squeezed around to see Mike. She wanted to say something smart, but the puppy-dog expression on his face stopped her.

  "Well, look here. It's your boyfriend, Chef Mike,” her new lumberjack friend said. “Hey, buddy, could you move down a seat so the lovebirds can sit together?” he told the man on the other side of her.

  "There's an empty booth back in the corner.” Mike sounded hopeful.

  "I already ordered. And my new friend...” Cara realized she didn't know his name.

  "Sam,” the handsome lumberjack said.

  "My new friend, Sam, wants to hear what you have to say. Did you get a good look at Chef Mike's skinny blonde partner when you watched the show?"

  "She causin’ you trouble?"

  "How insightful of you, Sam. Yes, Chef Mike's partner is definitely causin’ me trouble."

  "Maybe you should think about getting a new partner,” Sam said to Mike. “Hey, buddy, you gonna give us the seat or not?"

  "My thoughts exactly,” Mike said.

  Cara could feel the guy next to her moving away, but Mike's face held her attention. Could he mean what she thought he meant? Was he talking about the seat next to her or getting a new partner?

  Not able to wait even another second for the answer, she blurted, “Are you saying you're thinking of parting ways with Felicia?"

  "If she ever pulls another stunt like she did today, we're through. She has no business messing in my personal life."

  "There you go,” Sam said. “Now you're on the right track."

  "I think you're right, Sam. Are you just going to stand there? Sit down."

  Mike looked at Cara and then Sam. Cara almost relented about the table in the corner when she watched him warring with the idea of speaking about personal issues in front of a nosey stranger. Perversely, Cara thought it the perfect tactic.

  "Hello, Sam, my name is Mike,” he said with a shrug and held out his hand before he threw his leg over the stool.

  They locked hands behind her back.

  "Pleased to meet you. I saw you and the little lady here on TV. She says she's going to be on again this week."

  "I don't imagine there's anything we can do about it at this point. Cara, are you going to be able to handle the razzing?” Mike started to take the menu the waitress held out to him and then waved it away. “Just bring me what she's having."

  "I don't have a choice, do I?” Cara said. “I have to handle it or go nuts. Are you going to be able to handle your final close-up shot?"

  "Since I reacted to your ... er ... generosity in about thirty seconds, I don't think anyone was the wiser. It was, however, a damned wild thirty seconds."

  The waitress wrote down his order, but appeared to be taking an interest in their conversation, since she remained glued to the spot. Cara made a face at her.

  "You're a stockbroker, right?” Sam asked Cara. “What do you think of Tablinvest?"

  He really had watched the previous show closely. She got these kinds of questions all the time.

  "I've never heard of it. What do they do?"

  "My brother-in-law gave me the tip. Maybe I got the name wrong,” Sam poured half a bottle of ketchup on his fries.

  "Here, let me give you my card.” Cara reached for her purse. “If you find out what the name of the company is, give me a call and I'll see what I can find out for you."

  "Thanks,” he said as he held her card at arm's length to look at it.

  "I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep my word about the show. I didn't realize I'd be dealing with outside influences,” Mike said.

  Cara leaned closer to him. “Are you saying you had more than enough to handle just making sure I didn't mess up on my own?"

  "I'm not looking for a woman who can cook. What are you looking for?"

  "Someone who'll be honest with me. Someone who can cook."

  Mike leaned so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “That would be me."

  "Can I count on you to always be honest with me, even when you think I might not want to hear the truth?"

  "I promise I didn't have clue about Felicia.” Mike drew an imaginary X across his heart.

  "Which part? You didn't know to what lengths she'd go to me look incompetent, or you didn't know she's still in love with you?” Cara traced a line along the edge of the counter with her bright red finger.

  "Neither,” he said.

  "What did you think about what she told you?"

  "Shock. Disbelief. I didn't want to hear it.” He captured her hand and brought it to his lips.

  "I really wish you wouldn't do that."

  "What? Kiss your hand?"

  "No. Hold it up so everyone will see it,” Cara said.

  "What happened to your hand?” Sam asked.

  Cara turned away from Mike. “Same thing that happened to my nose. You'll have to watch this week's episode to find out. We made chicken Kiev, and Chef Mike's partner somehow rigged my chicken to explode."

  "You need to find a way to turn the tables on her. Give her a taste of her own medicine.” Sam gave a wink and a nod.

  "That sounds interesting. You have any suggestion on how I could go about it?"

  "I'll think about it and let you know.” Sam waved her card in front of him.

  "I'll look forward to hearing from you."

  "Do you plan on turning this into a war?” Mike asked. “Poor Felicia."

  "Poor Felicia, my ass—trophysics.” Cara held both hands in front of her and turned them slowly. “Really, how long do you think I'll look like this?"

  "Maybe you could wear gloves,” Sam suggested.

  The waitress brought their order. “Two bronco burgers, frisky fries and two choc-a-maltas. Can I get you anything else?"

  "An antacid?” Mike said, before Cara punched him.

  "Now we're even,” he said as rubbed his arm.

  Hardly, Nichols. You owe me big time."

  "I could give you an installment payment tonight, if I'm able to walk out of here after this burger."

  "Let's save the first installment for tomorrow evening. You can buy me dinner at your restaurant, and we'll go from there.” Cara wanted to mark her territory. If she and Mike had a chance of starting something special, Felicia needed to be put on notice. She removed her bun to salt the tomato. “Isn't that what you said you had in mind?"

  Mike picked up his burger and held it in front of his face. “Not exactly, but if I live through the night ... I'll be there."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER 9

  Cara walked into Mike's restaurant feeling like silk even though she wore cotton.

  "I'm here to have dinner with Mike,” she told the maître d'.

  "Right this way, Miss Thomas. Mike will be with you shortly. Allow me to say that you look especially lovely this evening. The TV cameras really don't do you justice."

  "Thank you. Just wait until you see this week's continuing saga."

  "Business here has never been better. If this week's episode is anything like the last sho
w, we'll have to franchise to handle all the new customers."

  "I'm glad to have been of help,” she said as she followed behind the man, wondering if he could hear the sarcasm in her voice. As people turned in their chairs to stare at her, she felt like a celebrity. One couple began clapping, and soon several others joined. She didn't know if she should bow or run for the door. She nodded instead.

  The maître d’ lead her to a small table nestled in a private walled alcove. No sooner had he helped her with her chair than Mike appeared.

  After pulling the chair next to hers still closer, he touched his lips to her forehead before sitting. The touch of his lips sent a shiver down her spine. She regretted she hadn't anticipated his kiss and tilted her chin upwards.

  "You look especially beautiful tonight,” Mike said, taking her hand in his. “I've been looking forward to this all day and my throat's healing fine after the stomach pump."

  "All the complaining you did about the burger last night only confirms what I thought.” Cara stared into his amazing blue eyes as she spoke.

  "And what is that?"

  "You're a culinary snob. I'm glad I don't have to cook for you. Talk about pressure."

  "You can't cook,” he said.

  "Well, it's a good thing I can't. I couldn't handle it. Oh—I don't believe it. Looks like we are about to have company.” Cara tightened her grip on Mike's hand.

  Cara watched Felicia approaching their table, wondering if her date with Mike would be spoiled.

  "Good evening. I just wanted to take a second to apologize to Cara. I regret any inconvenience I may have caused yesterday."

  Cara listened carefully to Felicia's voice. She sounded as if she meant it. “Your apology is accepted."

  "I promise there'll be no more interference on my part. Now if you'll excuse me, I—Will you look at that. Karma."

  Cara jumped inside as Felicia raised her voice.

  "There's a face from the past. Excuse me while I say hello to the woman who broke Mike and me up."

  "I need a score card to keep up with the women in your life.” Cara watched Felicia approach a tall, very thin and beautiful woman before she pointed to their table.