Recipe for Desire (14 page)

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Authors: Cheris Hodges

BOOK: Recipe for Desire
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“No,” he said. “As long as it’s done at least four hours before lunch.”
“All right, I’ll make some calls and we’ll get it taken care of tomorrow. Will you be here to supervise?”
He nodded. “Now, let me go make a no-bake chocolate dessert.”
“Make sure you save me some. I think my husband deserves some chocolate tonight.”
“I’m not touching that one,” he said as he threw up the peace sign and headed for the kitchen. Devon decided that he’d do a special dinner for Marie: his New Orleans chicken with tomato and onion pilaf, a crisp spinach and strawberry salad, and a goddess chocolate and rum pudding. This would be the perfect meal for her, and Devon couldn’t help but laugh as he thought about the last time he’d made the goddess pudding. He’d made it for Monique, a pastry chef he’d met in Paris, and she’d loved it so much that she’d smoothed it across his chest and licked it off. Sex and food had been his life when he’d been a student in Paris as he tried to get over Kandace and rid himself of the guilt he’d felt because of what he’d done and how much like his father he’d become.
Maybe that’s why he wanted to do things right with Marie. He wanted to make sure whatever they were doing was because they both wanted it. One thing was for sure, he thought as he cracked two eggs into a mixing bowl. He wanted Marie for Marie and nothing else. He just hoped she felt the same way.
Chapter 14
Marie smoothed gloss across her lips as she took another look at her image in the mirror. Hair curled and hanging in loose tendrils, eyes smoky and mysterious, ears adorned with silver and diamond hoops. She felt flawless and overdressed.
It’s just dinner,
she told herself as she closed her tube of gloss.
But dinner with Devon.
Marie knew with him, she didn’t have to do that attention-seeking thing she was known for. As a matter of fact, she probably wouldn’t see much of Devon anyway. She’d been to many restaurant openings as the guest of a chef. Sure, your table is in the middle of the restaurant and everyone sees you, but it’s not as if the chef joins you for dinner.
She pulled a pomegranate makeup remover wipe from the box and scrubbed her face clean. The face that looked back at her seemed ten years younger and fresher. “No wonder Daddy called it war paint,” she whispered as she smoothed a light coat of gloss on her lips, then headed into her bedroom to grab her shoes. Dressed in a pair of snakeskin designer leggings and a pink and silver tunic, Marie wished she could wear her taupe peep-toe Louboutins. But there was no way she could walk in those shoes with her ankle still giving her problems. She’d settle for her Tory Burch ballerina flats; that way she could walk without carrying that annoying crutch. As she reached for her phone to call a car service, it rang.
She shook her head as she recognized the number belonged to William. Speaking to him was the last thing she needed. He was history, the past, and she was looking toward a future with a man who didn’t have an agenda. Granted, she’d picked William for her own agenda, but it became clear that he’d been enjoying her limelight a little too much and had no intentions of actually marrying her as they’d agreed to. He’d been enjoying using Marie’s connections to get into Charlotte’s hottest night spots and get up close and personal with some of the other party girls. There’d been rumors of his infidelity, but Marie hadn’t cared because there hadn’t been real proof of him sleeping around. Other than the fact that they’d stopped having sex about a month after they’d started.
William had proven to be as selfish in bed as he’d been in every other aspect of his life and Marie couldn’t be so bothered. But she hadn’t planned on William embarrassing her at her own event.
Not that getting arrested is ever a good thing, but if it weren’t for William’s disrespectful display at Mez, I wouldn’t have met Devon. I can’t believe that punk actually did something that helped me,
she thought as she hit the Ignore button on her phone. That would be the best thing she could do for and to William. After calling the car service, Marie gave herself another inspection in the mirror. Simple outfit, cute hair, flat shoes; this was a Marie Charles no one would expect to see.
Jade laughed as she watched Devon prepare a plate. It looked as if he was making a meal for the president of the United States or the Queen of England. He turned to his friend and scowled at her. “What?”
“She’s not here yet. You don’t hear the clicks of cameras, do you?” Jade quipped.
“Whatever. I don’t have many people sitting at the chef’s table, so I’m trying to make this special,” he said, though the truth of the matter was, he wanted it special because it was Marie.
“Alicia and Serena aren’t going to come through tonight, so you can relax and enjoy feeding your new ... What are you and Marie doing?”
Before he could respond to her, there was a loud crash from the freezer, prompting Devon and Jade to rush back to see what was going on. “This is all we need tonight,” he muttered, thinking about how behind the kitchen had gotten while waiting for the repairman to fix the burners on the stove and offer a temporary solution to the oven issue.
“I hope it’s nothing,” Jade said as he opened the freezer. Luckily, their fears were unfounded as the crash had come from cartons of angus steaks stacked too high.
“Who did this?” Devon bellowed. “First of all, there’s a chart, right here on the damned door, detailing how to stack food in the freezer.”
Jade jumped, surprised to see the
Hell’s Kitchen
side of Devon. “Chef,” one of the kitchen expeditors said, “that’s my fault. Things got busy and I just ...”
Devon stepped in the young man’s face and glared at him. “Don’t let it happen again. We have rules in the kitchen for a reason.”
“Yes, Chef,” he replied.
Devon shook his head and turned back to Jade. “The kitchen isn’t for the fainthearted,” he told her. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’ve never seen this side of you,” she replied. “Then again, I don’t spend much time in the kitchen.”
“And you shouldn’t because you look like you want to cry right now,” he said as he walked Jade out into the hallway.
“You’re mean!” She laughed as they walked into the dining room. Devon’s heart nearly stopped when he saw Marie being led to her table. She was breathtaking with her clean face and fashionable outfit. Even without high heels, her legs were amazing, and that round bottom of hers made his mouth water. He waited before approaching the table, wondering where her business partner was, since he had invited them both. A few moments passed and he realized that Marie was alone. A slow smile, which didn’t go unnoticed by Jade, spread across his face.
“Well, well,” she said. “The evil chef smiles. I’m going to greet your guest.” Devon touched her arm.
“Let me do that,” he said. “Then you can interrupt us.”
Jade rolled her eyes and stepped aside. Devon crossed over to Marie, drinking in her image again before saying, “I’m glad you could make it.”
She smiled at him, her lips glimmering under the dim lights. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else I wanted to be.”
“Will Adriana be joining you?” he asked.
“Umm, she sends along her regrets,” Marie replied. “I guess I’ll be dining alone tonight.”
“Not necessarily,” he replied as he pushed a stray curl behind her ear. “I’ll be happy to join you for the main course.”
Marie blushed as his finger brushed across her cheek. How she wished he was the main course. Even in his chef’s jacket, pants with a smattering of food and oil, and a pair of sneakers that looked about three years old, Devon Harris was a sexy man. Lust-worthy, even. But Marie wanted and hoped that the vibe between them was something deeper; something that could blossom and grow.
“Ready for the first course?” he asked as he pulled her chair out.
“Sure,” she replied once she was seated. Devon stood behind her, and she felt electric currents ripple through her body as he described the salad that he’d made for her and the wine that would accompany it. He could’ve told her that he was going to feed her bread and water; it wouldn’t have mattered.
“Sounds good,” she said.
“It’ll be right out,” Devon said as he took her hand and placed a sweet kiss on her palm. Marie could’ve melted in her seat.
“I can’t wait.”
Devon winked at her and headed to the kitchen. Marie hugged herself tightly and smiled. She didn’t notice Jade when she approached the table.
“Hello,” Jade said, breaking into Marie’s thoughts of Devon. “I’m Jade Goings, one of the owners. Welcome to Hometown Delights.”
“Thank you,” Marie said as she and Jade shook hands.
“Mind if I sit for a moment?” she asked.
“Not at all. This place is a pleasant surprise,” Marie said as Jade took her seat.
“Oh, this is your first visit for dinner? Now, how could Charlotte’s it girl not come here?”
Marie shuttered inwardly; she now hated that moniker. “Well,” she said.
Jade held her hand up. “I know, there were a lot of bad things that happened here. I get it.”
“Had I known the food was so great, I would’ve come a lot sooner.”
Jade smiled and nodded. “I’m sure. Marie, I don’t know you and I don’t want to prejudge you, but we’re like a family here.”
“OK,” Marie said, wondering where this conversation was going.
“I just hope that your interest in Devon, who is a lot like a brother to me, is genuine,” she said. “Because if it isn’t ...”
“Listen,” Marie said, cutting her off. “Devon and I are just getting to know each other, and I really feel as if he’s someone I want to get to know and see where it goes.”
“And this has nothing to do with the fact that he supervises your court-ordered community service?”
Marie folded her arms across her chest and glared at Jade, wondering if this big-sister act was hiding something more. “Why do you care? Last time I checked, Devon’s a grown man, and if he thought I was using him, I wouldn’t be here.”
Jade shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. We all know what to do to blind a man to the truth.”
“For someone who claims to know and love Devon like a brother, you have a low opinion of him,” Marie retorted.
“I just want you to prove me wrong,” Jade said. “And I don’t want to see Devon hurt.”
“I don’t intend to hurt him,” she said. “What about him hurting me? Can you have this same conversation with him, or are you simply judging me because of what you’ve read?”
“That’s all I know about you,” Jade said. “And you did a good job of crafting your image. Maybe Devon has met the real you, maybe you’re still the party girl, but trying to clean up your image by hooking up with Devon?”
Marie tilted her head as she watched Jade question her. On the one hand, she was pissed off. Who did this woman think she was? But on the other hand, she admired the friendship that she and Devon seemed to have. Still, Jade needed to mind her own business and get away from her table so that she could enjoy her meal with Devon.
“Are you done?” Marie asked.
“Excuse me?” Jade asked, taken aback by her bluntness.
“Devon invited me as his guest, and I know you’re his friend and you have his best interest at heart, but I don’t intend to be grilled by you all night.”
“Then why don’t we meet for coffee?” Jade suggested.
Marie reached into her purse and handed Jade a business card. “Please call me,” she said, then offered her a plastic smile while hoping she’d leave.
“I will,” Jade replied. “Enjoy your dinner.” As Jade left, a waiter walked over to the table with the first course of dinner.
“Thank you,” Marie said when he set the salad, filled with succulent strawberries, in front of her.
“Chef Harris said he will be over in a few moments to check on you,” the waiter said. Marie smiled her thanks and dug into the salad. When she was half done, Marie wondered, where was Devon?
 
 
When Devon’s cell phone rang, he figured that it was important or one of his producers calling about next week’s show. But when he saw the 404 area code, he knew he should’ve ignored the call. Yet, he answered anyway.
“Yeah?”
“Well, hello to you, too, Son,” Devon Sr. said. “I’ve been trying to reach you for a month.”
“What do you want? I’m a little busy,” he replied.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had a conversation.”
“And?”
“Junior, we really need to sit down and have a conversation. How long has it been? Ten years?”
“Not long enough,” Devon snapped. “I knew I shouldn’t have answered the phone. I’m busy.”
“I’m dying.”
“Why don’t you tell it to someone who cares.” Devon clicked his phone off and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He didn’t have time to deal with his father and whatever drama he was dealing with. Still, if his father was really dying, could he simply ignore it?
“Chef, your guest is getting restless,” the waiter said.
“I’m going to take her main course out,” Devon said, pushing his father’s voice deep down into his subconscious. As he plated Marie’s dinner—New Orleans chicken with tomato and onion pilaf, with crisp steamed vegetables—and wiped the plate, Devon decided to focus on Marie and ignore his father as he had been doing for the last decade.
By the time he locked eyes with her as he approached the table, he’d forgotten about his short conversation with his father. “I heard you were waiting for this,” Devon said as he set the plate in front of her.

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