Hot & Sweet
Page 1
Hot & Sweet
Sean Ashcroft
Copyright © 2018 by Sean Ashcroft
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter One
Being summoned to the producer’s office always made Wyatt’s stomach knot up, and today was no exception. He trudged through the maze of corridors that wound their way around the production studio, eyes watering under the uncovered fluorescent lights, his feet heavy with fear of what lay ahead.
His head was spinning with thoughts of all the possible ways this meeting could go, and none of them were good.
They were cancelling his show. By the time he rapped his knuckles against the chipping paint of the door to Donna’s office, his eyes level with the gold-and-black Producer plaque fixed to it, he knew that as surely as he knew the back of his own hand.
They were cancelling his show, and there wasn’t going to be another contract, and he’d given up his job years ago because the TV work had taken up all his time. Even one episode a week and a few publicity appearances was enough to suck up all his time. Prep work and coordinating with suppliers and directors and Donna and everyone else who was involved took up hours and hours of his time. He couldn’t have held down a job in a bakery on top of all of it, and he couldn’t afford to own one, either.
He’d have to go back home to Kansas.
The thought made him shudder.
“Come in,” Donna called from the other side of the door.
Wyatt pushed the door open, slipping inside and then pausing as he took in the sight of a tall, thin man with a long black ponytail, cheekbones that could cut steel, and ice-blue eyes standing on his side of the desk.
Kai Jones. So-called spice master, and even Wyatt had to roll his eyes at that title.
Not that king of sugar was much better, he supposed. If there was anything The Culinary Channel loved, it was dumb names.
“Finally,” Donna said. “Take a seat.”
Wyatt glanced at Kai, whose arms were folded across his chest and his lips pursed to a thin line. “I’ll stand,” he responded.
Donna rolled her eyes, but leaned back in her chair, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. Wyatt liked Donna, personally—she wasn’t cruel, she was relatively easy to work with, and she was good at her job.
Her job just also happened to involve having direct control over his job, so she made him nervous.
Wyatt could feel Kai’s gaze on him, sizing him up like a man about to buy a horse.
“I think you both know why you’re here,” she said.
“Renewal season,” Wyatt responded. He knew why he was here, he just wasn’t sure why Kai was here at the same time.
“Right. And both of you had significant ratings drops this year.”
Wyatt opened his mouth to provide an excuse—any excuse, any chance to save himself—but Donna held a hand up to stop him.
“I don’t wanna hear it. Thing is, and this is where you’re lucky—I like both of you, so you can stop looking like you’ve been dragged into the principal’s office.”
A tiny bit of the tension Wyatt was carrying in his shoulders eased off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kai’s arms drop to his sides.
“I know ratings don’t just drop in a vacuum. I know there’re a million reasons why, and I’m here to fix them, not lay all the blame at your doorsteps.”
Wyatt glanced over at Kai nervously, and found the other man doing exactly the same. He suddenly had an even worse feeling about this.
“So you two are getting a seven-part mini series. Together.”
“What?” Wyatt said, at the exact moment Kai did as well.
At least they could agree on that.
They’d been competing for the same audience demographic for a long time. Their shows were similar in tone, if not in content, and they were both done in the same studio kitchen, so people obviously compared them.
Not to mention competing for promo spots and show budget and filming times. It wasn’t as though Wyatt ever really had to deal with Kai, but he knew about him, and he was sure Kai felt about the same way.
In the network’s eyes, they were approximately the same product.
Which, Wyatt realized a moment later, was the point. Combining their audience share and focusing it on one show. That meant more money from advertisers and sponsors.
That didn’t mean he liked it.
“We’re calling it Hot and Sweet,” Donna said, apparently not about to acknowledge their joint objection.
Wyatt saw Kai wrinkling his nose. They could agree on that, too—it was another in a long line of terrible names.
“It scored well with focus groups,” Donna said. “Filming starts next week. Any questions?”
“I am not working with him,” Kai said, pointing a long finger at Wyatt.
As much as he also shared that sentiment, Wyatt was insulted. He was a delight to work with. Every guest he’d ever had on his show said so.
Kai rarely had guests, and they tended to walk away muttering under their breath about him. Wyatt knew, because his filming time was directly after Kai’s. Or had been.
His show had been cancelled. That was just starting to sink in now. They were cancelling it, and they were giving him a new one, but not by himself. He wasn’t enough.
The thought tasted bitter in the back of his throat.
“You sure? Because we can give Wyatt the slot by himself. He scores a lot better with women twenty-eight to fifty-five.”
Wyatt smiled at that. Of course he did. Women loved him.
Men loved him too, but he doubted the network was worried too much about the men-Wyatt-had-slept-with demographic. It wasn’t really big enough to make a dent in the ratings.
“Then why not cancel his show and let his audience come to me?” Wyatt asked.
Kai glared daggers at him. Wyatt didn’t even need to look to feel his pale blue eyes boring into his soul.
“He has his own audience that we’re hoping to capture by combining the two. But let me be clear: if either of you walk away from this, we’ll just go on with whoever stays. This is the only offer you’re getting. Take it or leave it.”
Wyatt paused. If it was this or nothing, then this was the better option. “Fine,” he said.
Kai kept glaring at him for a few moments, and then turned to Donna. “Fine,” he echoed, more a growl than a word.
He wasn’t happy. Wyatt wasn’t happy.
But they both still had jobs, and that was better than not having a job.
Probably.
“Then you’ve got until next Thursday to figure out how you’re running the first show. You both have control over whatever dishes you make, but… try to coordinate. The success or failure of this show will mean getting a new one next season, or not.”
“Play nice, you mean?” Kai said. He didn’t sound like he liked that idea.
“Right,” Donna confirmed. “You too, Wyatt. Kai’s got the reputation for a mean streak, but I know you’ve got it in you to screw this up, too. Don’t. Take my advice. Play nice for the next seven weeks, make the show a success, and then you can both go your separate ways.”
Wyatt glanced over at Kai, then at Donna. “Okay,” he said, defeated. This was his only choice, after all. Kai wasn’t going to throw in the towel and just let him have the slot. “Yeah, fine. I’ll play nice.”
Until Kai gives me reason not to, he didn’t add aloud.
“Good. I knew you two could see eye to eye for long enough to salvage both of your careers. You’ll get information packages by email no later than Friday. I assume you can see yoursel
ves out?”
Wyatt held the door for Kai on the way out in a kind of weaponized act of chivalry.
Kai said nothing to him, so he wasn’t inclined to strike up a conversation. He could behave for six episodes if Kai could.
At least it meant he wasn’t going home with his tail between his legs just yet.
Chapter Two
Kai sat back with a mug of hot chocolate in his hand and a scowl on his face, grabbing his laptop from where he’d left it tossed aside on the couch and pulling it into his lap.
The chocolate tasted bitter in his mouth when he sipped it. He wrinkled his nose, setting it aside and focusing on the task at hand.
He needed to know what he was up against if he was going to spend seven weeks working with a man who he’d thought of, until now, as a charming smile on legs. Charming, but not all that bright, and not particularly skilled.
The knowledge that Wyatt was more popular—with women, at least—than he was stuck in his throat. What did Wyatt have that he didn’t? He knew what he was doing, he was confident he looked all right on camera…
He’d never made much of an effort to be attractive to women, he supposed. He was gay. He really didn’t care whether women found him attractive, but he was pretty sure they weren’t looking for completely different things than men.
Although, considering his history with men… perhaps this was easier to explain than he was telling himself.
Maybe he didn’t have Wyatt’s three-foot-wide shoulders and Southern charm. Maybe, despite the fact that he wasn’t completely hideous, he just didn’t have the personality for TV.
But he was good at what he did, and didn’t that count for anything?
A tiny, traitorous voice in the back of his head told him it did. It had counted for enough to let him keep his job, at least for another seven weeks.
He wouldn’t have to go and beg for a place in someone else’s kitchen, or for a loan he couldn’t afford to open his own restaurant. Restaurants were expensive, and risky, and he currently had the best job he could imagine at this stage of his career.
If someone had told him on his first day of culinary school that he’d end up a TV chef, he would have laughed.
He might even have broken their nose.
But now, it was who he was. The thought of not being that anymore made him panic. It was all he’d known for the past three years, and he wasn’t getting any younger, and he really wasn’t sure where he’d go after this.
The thought that he might have to go home made his stomach turn.
So. He needed to know what Wyatt had, and how he could have it, too, if he wanted to keep doing what he’d come to genuinely love. And he did love it. He liked sharing what he knew with other people. He wanted everyone to be able to do what he did with food, because they’d be much happier if they could.
He typed Wyatt’s name into the search box, opening new tabs for the Twitter and Facebook results, images, and then a couple of articles that had been written about him as well.
After a moment’s hesitation, he also opened the top few recipe results. Maybe he could work out what to expect from them.
Maybe he was just looking for a way to feel better than Wyatt, since the idea that he was that much more popular still stung.
Kai clicked on the tab with the Twitter results in it and immediately stopped to stare at the first tweet.
Who wouldn’t want a man who could wreck you overnight and then make amazing pancakes in the morning?
He wet his lips. Well. It wasn't as though he hadn't noticed that Wyatt had a certain amount of sex appeal…
He’d just been trying really hard not to think about it. Apparently, though, he wasn't the only one who’d noticed.
Most of the results were just shared recipes, but almost all the ones that weren't were about how attractive he was.
Wyatt was attractive, and Kai knew that, but he didn't think he was hideous, or anything. If that was all there was to it…
He stopped just short of looking himself up, deciding at the last second that he didn’t want to know. Either he’d find people saying things like that about him, which would have been weird, or he’d find nothing, which would have been depressing.
Neither option would have improved his mood.
Instead, he clicked on the images tab. Wyatt’s smiling face filled the screen, promotional photos and candid ones alike showing a man who looked as good-natured as a Labrador puppy. That was probably it, Kai decided.
Wyatt was approachable. Kai was many things, but he’d never been accused of that.
In hindsight, it was a surprise he’d ever managed to get a job hosting a cooking show. Of course, he knew he hadn’t gotten that entirely on his merits as a good host. He’d gotten that because the producer at the time thought he was pretty.
And then he’d moved on, and Kai had been left behind, and he often wondered if he was in over his head, despite doing his best to seem confident.
He liked to think he was good at explaining things, but he didn't have Wyatt’s warmth.
Not that he ever planned to admit to that. He could be warm. Charming, even.
Probably. If he put his mind to it.
He’d just never put his mind to it.
As he scrolled idly through the results, one image in particular made him pause. He clicked on it, letting it fill the screen, and stared.
It was an old promo shot for the first season of Wyatt’s show, the logo splashed across the bottom. But that wasn't what made Kai stare.
No, what he was staring at was Wyatt, completely naked, his modesty preserved by a rolling pin he was holding in front of his crotch.
They couldn't have used this on TV, but they probably could have used it online.
Kai licked his lips unconsciously.
“I'm too gay for this,” he murmured aloud, still staring at Wyatt’s beautifully-defined torso and strong thighs. His dark, warm eyes sparkled with mischief, a broad grin spread across his face.
The photo was a few years old, but Kai couldn’t imagine much had changed. Wyatt filled out a soft, touchable sweater very, very nicely.
He closed his laptop, realizing that he now knew much more than he’d wanted to about Wyatt—specifically, what was under his down-to-earth, boy-next-door dress sense. That was what he got for poking his nose where it didn't belong.
Facing Wyatt tomorrow was about to be a hundred times more awkward, and he only had himself to blame.
Chapter Three
“Roulades are like the fancier cousin to a Swiss roll,” Wyatt explained as he turned his stand mixer on to beat his eggs. “Except they’re perfect for clumsy people, because they’re supposed to crack when you roll ‘em.”
He grinned up at the studio audience, letting them laugh at him for a few seconds before going back to what he was doing.
Things were going okay so far, in the sense that there hadn’t been any major disasters. He and Kai were both keeping to themselves, barely saying a word between them.
The thing was, that wasn’t good, either. If people watched a show with two hosts, they wanted them to at least… talk to each other. But right now, it was like there was a brick wall between the two sides of the counter.
Wyatt couldn’t think of anything to say. He’d missed what Kai was working on in the beginning, although it did smell amazing already, warm and inviting. That was his own fault, but he also didn’t feel like he could just… ask.
Kai already thought he was an idiot, and he’d made that crystal clear. Wyatt didn’t want to prove him right. Even if he’d only missed it because he’d been too nervous to focus.
“My stand mixer died on me recently, so watching this one go is exciting,” he said, only half-joking. He hadn’t had time to replace it, and he was getting tired of trying to beat every test recipe by hand. It was possible, but it wasn’t fun.
This was fun. He liked this job, where he just got to talk about baking and make delicious things while other people watched.
But what the hell would he even say?
“You know,” Kai said, vaguely in Wyatt’s direction. “I looked you up on the internet last night. Thought I should know a little more about you.”
Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief, turning off the stand mixer and unhooking the bowl to scrape it out into the baking sheet he’d already prepared.
A glance at the clock told him he was even a couple of minutes ahead of schedule.
“Can’t believe everything you read on the internet,” Wyatt responded as he spread his mixture into a neat rectangle on the baking sheet.
Wyatt realized belatedly that Kai had looked him up.
That seemed… a little weird?
Maybe he should have looked Kai up. Maybe that was what professionals did.
He’d fallen into this job by accident, so he wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to do it. His strategy so far had been to do what seemed right until someone told him otherwise.
No one had told him otherwise yet, and he was starting to think that he had the hang of things now.
He washed the mixer bowl out while Kai did something complicated with his knife and a potato. Wyatt was a simple baker, and a mostly self-taught one at that, until he’d gone to work for his uncle. When he watched the real chefs who had shows here work, his brain just shut off.
How did they do that, so fast, without cutting themselves?
He put the bowl on his scale to start weighing out other ingredients.
“But a picture is worth a thousand words, right?” Kai asked as he scraped everything on his chopping board off into a cast iron skillet. “I found a very interesting one of you.”
A lead weight dropped in Wyatt’s stomach. He knew exactly which picture Kai had found.
“It didn’t leave much to the imagination. You think they’ll make us do one like that for this series?” Kai asked, his tone so innocent that it could only mean he was trying to make Wyatt uncomfortable.