Sizzle. Katherine GarberaЧитать онлайн книгу.
going out to dinner tonight at Martine’s where they will have a private tour of the kitchen and talk with their chief sous chef. The rest of you will be participating in a grilling workshop.”
Remy shook his head. The last thing he wanted was more time alone with Staci. If he were as superstitious as his grandmother he’d believe that fate was pushing them together.
But he wasn’t.
Really.
DINNER ALONE WITH REMY and Chef Ramone wasn’t what she’d anticipated when she’d started the day off by spilling tea all over the hottie in the elevator. However, she was happy enough for it now. She got dressed in the one nice dress she’d brought with her.
The instructions for Premier Chef were pretty explicit. She’d had to bring her cooking gear but also jeans, a dress, a skirt, a bathing suit and a number of other expected items. Still, it was the specific clothing that had struck her as funny.
She knew it was a television show and that they’d want them all to look a certain way but beyond that she hadn’t given what she wore much thought. Now that she was heading to one of the LA areas nicest restaurants she was glad she’d gone shopping with Alysse last weekend.
She enjoyed spending time with the co-owner of Sweet Dreams, especially since Alysse was so busy—engaged to be married and busily determined to expand their cupcake business. Staci had decided to take a break from the day-to-day running of the bakery to get ready for this show. Staci was the first to admit her dreams lay in a different direction now.
The bakery had saved her sanity when she’d first come back to California but that was a long five years ago and given that she was almost thirty, Staci felt it was time to figure out what she wanted from life. And she couldn’t until she made up for her past mistakes. Until she resolved her lingering doubts about her abilities as a chef. This show was her chance to do that.
She did a double check of her make-up, although she knew that the production person would re-apply it and make it heavier for the television cameras.
“You look good,” her roommate Vivian said.
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure that I’d be wearing this dress on TV. Do you think it’s too low cut?” she asked. She’d tried it on in the store but had been wearing a sports bra so she hadn’t noticed how much cleavage it revealed.
“Not at all. Sex sells, baby. It also distracts. If Remy is staring at your chest it should give you an edge over him.”
She sighed inwardly. It was a contest after all. She wanted Remy distracted and off his A game. But at the same time using her body to win, well, why not? Remy hadn’t hesitated to use his sexy southern accent to distract her.
She grabbed her handbag and made sure she had her moleskin recipe journal in there. The journal had seen better days and was bulging with pages and photos she’d added. She never went anywhere without the journal. She liked to make notes about the meals she ate and she found eating out always inspired her palate.
“Knock ’em dead,” Vivian said.
“I hope so,” Staci replied as she left their room. She was used to living alone, cooking alone and spending most of her time by herself, so this living with the other contestants could be a strain.
Remy was waiting in the foyer with Jack, the director and one of the producers. She almost missed a step on the stairs staring at Remy. His thick black hair was slicked back. He wore a white dress shirt left casually open at the neck and a navy dinner jacket and gray pants. He glanced at his watch and then at the stairs, his mouth dropping open when he saw her.
She gave herself a mental high five and forced herself to smile at him in what she hoped was a casual way. To be honest, he was oozing sexiness in his dinner wear, so she wasn’t entirely sure what impression she gave off.
“Now that you are both here we will head over to the restaurant. We won’t be filming until we are there so you can relax.”
“Thanks,” Remy said. “Will we be driving ourselves?”
“No. We have a production assistant who will take you and pick you up. During the course of the show you will always be in our hands. Chef Ramone doesn’t like cell phones and he has requested you leave them with us.”
“Okay,” Staci said, opening her handbag to retrieve her phone, which she handed to Jack.
“What’s that book in your bag?” the producer asked.
“Just my food journal. I like to write down the meals I eat.”
“I’m sure that will be fine. Though we will check with the chef before you arrive and if it’s not, you’ll have to give it to one of our staff at the location.”
She didn’t like the thought of letting anyone else have her journal but she wasn’t going to argue about it right now. Jack directed them out the door and into a Mercedes sedan.
“How many vehicles do you have?” Remy asked.
“Enough. In this case Mercedes is sponsoring one of the upcoming challenges and giving away this car as a prize.”
“Nice. I hope I win,” Staci said. “I’ve been riding the bus for too long.”
Remy laughed. “Ah, without the bus I wouldn’t have that great first impression of you.”
She shook her head remembering how she’d landed in his arms. “I could have done without that.”
Soon they were both seated in the backseat and being whisked across town toward the famous restaurant. Instead of thinking about the evening or even the contest, Staci’s thoughts hadn’t drifted any further than the man sitting next to her.
She wished she’d made a better first impression on him but she knew that her skills in the kitchen had made up for her stumble. And if she were honest, she wouldn’t trade their first meeting for anything.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“A little. But not really,” she said. “You?”
“No. I’m curious to see his techniques. I haven’t cooked much outside of the South.”
“I was trained in Paris,” she said.
“Really? Pastry?” he asked.
“Yes and everything else,” she admitted.
“Then why are you the co-owner of a cupcake bakery? You should be working in the finest kitchens in the world.”
“That is a long story,” she said.
“Well, we do have a long drive ahead of us,” he replied.
3
THE WARMTH OF THE CAR’S interior felt like an intimate cocoon and it would have been easy for her to forget that Remy was her competitor. Yet, this situation was so far removed from what she knew life to be like. Remy might be an out-of-work chef but he was clearly used to luxury. He sat relaxed next to her in his expensive clothes.
What was his story? Did she want to know? A lot of people said it was better to know your enemy but given her personality flaw regarding men, she thought a little mystery was probably in order.
“You were going to tell me how a Cordon Bleu chef ends up owning a cupcake bakery,” he said in that sultry southern way of his.
It would be easy to dismiss him as an innocent were it not for the shrewd look in his eyes. She didn’t have to guess to know that he was one of those who subscribed to the know-your-enemy theory.
“Was I?” she asked, turning toward him. The fabric of her skirt slid up her legs and she waited to see if he had noticed.
He had. But he arched one eyebrow at her to let her know that he knew she’d done it deliberately. She shrugged and he smiled.
“It’s