The Wedding Gift Page 4

  Sadly, though, it seemed he wasn’t nearly done with her just yet.

  “I know you owned your own restaurant, Julie. What do you think the most important thing is when it comes to cooking great food?”

  Wow. He’d finally come out and said it: he remembered her.

  Which meant that Julie had been right in her suspicions: this really was all just some sick, twisted game to him.

  Working to keep her voice steady, she lifted her chin and met his gaze square-on. “I think it’s about giving people food they actually want to eat. Too many chefs get carried away trying to prove how clever they are and end up forgetting about the people who are paying hard earned money to eat what they create.”

  Andrew nodded as if he agreed with her, then said, “For me, it’s all about passion.”

  Julie snorted. “I think I read about your latest passion in the gossip pages.”

  The audience laughed at her comeback. To her annoyance, he joined in good-naturedly. “What can I say? I’m a very passionate guy.” He winked at the swooning audience. “However, just now I was talking about passion for the food. I want to be someone whose food is a reflection of himself. I want the dishes I create to say something about me.”

  “Don’t you have a publicist for that?”

  That got another laugh from the audience, but before she could feel too smug about her comebacks, Andrew grinned and shrugged. “Sure I do. But I’ve always thought one taste of something I’ve made does a better job of selling my skills than a picture in a paper does.”

  Finally realizing she wasn’t going to win a battle of words with the smooth talking TV presenter, Julie bent back over her work. As she beat the eggs together, she was grateful it was a recipe that gave her the opportunity for a little mindless violence.

  The trouble was, it wasn’t going to be enough, no matter what she did. She could come out with the most flawless quiche ever made, and Andrew would probably declare it mediocre. Any audience members allowed a taste would undoubtedly side with him too.

  After all, you didn’t disagree with the gorgeous star.

  So what then? Should she give up? Refuse to play this game any longer?

  No, she quickly decided, that wouldn’t work either. She needed something else.

  Julie looked over the other ingredients set out on the counter. What would the quiche taste like with a little Tabasco sauce and a few unexpected spices to give it some extra dimensions of flavor?

  She knew she shouldn’t take the risk. She knew precisely what happened when she experimented. People complained. They threw it away uneaten.

  And she ended up feeling terrible.

  Mixing things up in the eleventh hour wasn’t a risk she should take, period, let alone in front of a packed studio audience.

  Except that, as Andrew told an anecdote about one of the kitchens he’d worked in and the audience lapped it up, Julie found herself reaching for several jars. She didn’t have any measurements memorized, because she’d never put these ingredients into this recipe before. All she could do was smell, and taste...and hope.

  By the time Andrew came to the end of his story, the ingredients were in.

  And the damage was done.

  Andrew slid his own pie into the oven beside Julie’s at almost the same moment.

  “And…cut!”

  Julie let out a breath. This was her chance to run away, to get out of the studio as fast as her legs could carry her. Especially given what she had just done with the recipe, if she ran off now, maybe they wouldn’t be able to use the footage, and she wouldn’t be even more of a laughing stock in the chefs’ community than she already was.

  I thought you didn’t want him to think you were a coward?

  Julie knew her inner voice was right. She’d come to give him a piece of her mind and now she finally had the chance. But just as she moved toward him, Andrew’s assistant, who finally introduced herself as Sandy, herded Julie into a folding chair and stood directly behind her as if personally responsible for making sure she didn’t pull a runner.

  While Andrew filmed a couple of segments in which he shared a few cooking tips, answered a handful of audience queries, and generally played up to the camera, Julie couldn’t take her eyes off him. It wasn’t just that he was good looking, though that was certainly part of it.

  It was that he seemed to enjoy what he was doing so much.

  He really did seem to genuinely love anything to do with food, whether it was showing the easy way to open up shellfish or mixing together an elaborate dessert from the ingredients set out on the table.

  Passion.

  Julie didn’t want to use the word, given how much Andrew had made of it, but it was true. His passion for food and cooking came through in every word he spoke in front of the camera.

  Finally, it was time for her to head back in front of the cameras. As she took her spot beside Andrew, he turned his back to the audience and said, “I’m sorry to hear that your aunt was ill. I hope she’s doing better now.”

  Julie blinked up at him in surprise. He knew about Aunt Evie? How?

  But she already knew the only way was if he’d taken the time to ask Rose about Julie after the tasting. Why would Andrew ever go and do something like that?

  Julie managed to stammer out something about her aunt being fine now and just needing to take things a little easier before the director yelled for cameras to roll again.

  “I’m pleased to have Julie Delgado back with us to see how our cook-off went,” Andrew said before opening up the oven. “Earlier, we each created our idea of the perfect quiche. Now, you’ll be able to get the full recipe for mine from the show’s website, and Julie, you went for a more traditional option, didn’t you?”

  “Actually, I changed things up a little,” Julie admitted, knowing that she had to give Andrew some warning before he tasted what she’d done to the basic recipe. “I put a few spices in. A little Tabasco sauce, too.”

  Andrew raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought I was the maverick cook.” After the audience chuckled, he said, “It’s time to taste how things turned out.”

  They tried his recipe first and Julie had to admit it was phenomenal. Andrew had taken what should have been simple, home cooked food and elevated it to something complex and delicious.

  When it was her turn, Julie acted like she was confidently taking a bite of her quiche. But, really, she was watching Andrew while he tasted, holding her breath as the moments ticked by, one after the other.

  “This is great!” he declared. “Just perfect, Julie.”

  Utterly shocked, all she could do was stand there, staring at him in surprise. Amazingly, he was just as silent as she was, staring straight back at her for a moment.

  Julie became suddenly aware of how close she was standing to Andrew...and how much closer she wanted to get. Fortunately, he turned back to the camera just then.

  She took another bite of her quiche. She had to admit, it was pretty good.

  After the show wrapped, the chaos Julie had found when she’d first shown up immediately resumed. Andrew was pulled away by the producer and Sandy escorted her out to her car, saying something about how well everything had gone.

  “There was real chemistry between the two of you. That’s why it was such good TV, you know.”

  Yes, Julie thought as she headed back to the Rose Chalet, she knew only too well how good her and Andrew’s chemistry was. So good, in fact, that she had completely forgotten to lay down the law with him.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, Rose immediately called Julie into her office. “I know it’s short notice,” Rose said, “but if you could put a menu together to show to some really important prospective clients who called up from out of the blue, it would really help me out. Tyce is already putting together some suggestions for music, and Anne sent over a selection of dress designs a few minutes ago.”

  Julie hadn’t seen much of the Rose Chalet’s resident DJ and dress designer, given that Tyc
e did much of his mixing in his home recording studio, and, according to Phoebe, Anne was evidently a close friend of Rose’s who seemed to get more leeway than anyone else who worked at the Chalet.

  “Sure,” Julie replied with a smile, “I’ll just need to pick up some ingredients at the market.”

  If Rose wanted Julie to help out with another wedding, couldn’t that easily become another wedding after that, and then another, until Julie slid right into a permanent position without ever having to do anything out of the ordinary?

  Just what she wanted. A safe, regular cooking position she could count on.

  Not bland, no matter what Andrew said.

  “When are they stopping by?”

  “Not until four,” Rose replied. “I know this is very last minute, but, please, if you could make sure this is a good menu—”

  “It will be fantastic,” Julie promised, and she swore to herself that it would be.

  With that in mind, she headed down to the local markets and delicatessens, looking for inspiration. Rose wanted something special for this wedding, and Julie wasn’t going to let her down.

  Every dish was going to be spectacular, a literal feast for the senses. If yesterday on set with Andrew had proved one thing to her, it was that she did have the skills to make the unexpected work on command.

  She was halfway through her shopping trip when she stopped, not believing her eyes. Andrew was talking to a woman behind the cheese counter.

  Somehow, he even managed to make selecting cheese look incredibly sexy.

  Julie quickly checked that thought. She hadn’t let herself think about the brief moment of connection they’d had yesterday, and she wasn’t going to start now.

  But that vow became a lot harder when Andrew turned around and spotted her, treating her to a smile that could have lit the entire store.

  “Julie, what luck, seeing you here!”

  It was all she could do to stifle a sigh of resignation. She’d been hoping her luck was about to change, but it seemed fate had other ideas.

  Julie tried not to be nervous as his eyes scanned the items in her cart. “I thought I might try one or two new things with a bride and groom Rose is wooing.”

  Andrew let out a short laugh. “I knew I’d convert you. I can’t wait to taste what you come up with. Are you free now?”

  “Actually, Rose scheduled the menu tasting for this afternoon. It would be better if we shifted our meeting to tomorrow, instead.” Or, preferably, to the fifth of never.

  She half expected Andrew to refuse, because he was the big star with the tight schedule, but all he said was an easy, “Tomorrow would be fine.” She was momentarily mesmerized by his smile, just long enough for him to fit in, “But only if you agree to go out for lunch with me now.”

  “You want to have lunch with me?” As if thankful for the reminder, her stomach grumbled right on cue.

  “Yes, lunch,” he said, still smiling at her as if he found her adorable.

  Julie frowned. She didn’t do adorable. Not even for a gorgeous TV chef who made her stupid insides melt like butter.

  “I don’t have a lot of time.”

  Any other guy would have fled from her hard tone, but Andrew simply asked, “When are the clients coming around?”

  She knew she was cornered even as she said, “Four o’clock.”

  “That will leave plenty of time for you to work some of the magic you showed yesterday,” Andrew said with another one of those gorgeous grins. “And if you’re worried about that boss of yours wondering where you are, I’ll phone to tell her that this is an essential research lunch, and without it, I’m not going to be able to work with you anymore.”

  Julie’s eyes widened. “Please don’t do that. You wouldn’t, would you? Pull out of the wedding like that? She’d kill me.”

  Instead of answering her question, he simply said, “I’d really love for you to join me for lunch at The Glass Square. Say yes.”

  He dropped in the name like it was nothing, rather than a restaurant with both a Michelin star and a waiting list that was so long most people couldn’t ever hope to eat there. As for the prices…Julie didn’t even want to contemplate how much a lunch for two could run.

  Not to mention the way his simply seductive, “Say yes,” had her heart pounding like a hard-rock drum beat.

  “The Glass Square? Seriously?”

  “Phillipe keeps telling me to drop in and I know he’d love to meet you.” He gave her a smile that brought his dimples to the fore.

  Julie wasn’t sure what was more impressive, the fact that Andrew could talk about the head chef of such an important place so casually, or the fact that he was willing to go to that effort for lunch with her. Even so…

  “Andrew,” she said as she very reluctantly shook her head, “I—”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer,” Andrew warned before his expression softened. “I want to make up for dragging you onto the set of my show. One lunch at a nice restaurant is the least I can do.”

  Put like that, Julie couldn’t say no, even if it wasn’t quite the apology she really wanted for the terrible review he’d given her restaurant. Still, it would do. For now.

  She stashed her cold groceries in the cooler Andrew kept in his trunk, then let him drive them over to the restaurant, since Aunt Evie had needed her car and Julie had taken the bus to work. He drove a tad more sedately than he had the day before, but even so he pushed at the edge of the speed limits.

  Yes, she thought as the wind whipped through her hair in the passenger seat of his shiny convertible, Andrew Kyle was definitely a man who liked to push past limits.

  He obviously hadn’t phoned ahead and Julie knew anyone else would have been turned away at the door. Instead, a rotund man in his fifties came out of the kitchen to greet Andrew with such enthusiasm that it spilled over onto a bear hug for Julie. A moment later Phillipe clapped his hands and ordered the wait staff to set a table up in the kitchen, where Andrew and Julie could see him at work.

  “Typical Phillipe,” Andrew said softly. “A total showman. Especially in front of a beautiful woman.”

  Julie laughed at the idea of Andrew Kyle calling someone else a showman…and flushed at being called beautiful.

  Phillipe already had a bottle of wine open in the kitchen. Andrew pointed out that he was driving, but Julie was too bowled over by being in The Glass Square to possibly say no to the glass Phillipe handed her with a flourish.

  “I’d almost think that you’d planned to get me drunk,” Julie whispered to Andrew, “if there was any way you could have planned it.”

  “Do you think it will work?” he whispered back, clearly enjoying teasing her.

  Julie shook her head, enjoying his playfulness far too much. “I’m having one glass with lunch. That’s it.”

  Andrew raised his eyebrows. “I see there’s still a way to go in getting you to take risks.”

  Julie knew he was probably still teasing. Nonetheless, she had to bite her lip to keep in a sharp retort.

  But while a part of her was glad he’d reminded her to be on guard again, The Glass Square’s kitchen was too nice a setting to spoil with an argument. The kitchen was hot and noisy, filled with shouted instructions as the staff chopped vegetables and flambéed desserts. There was something so beautiful about it to Julie’s eyes, an underlying order in the chaos that said everyone there knew exactly what they were supposed to be doing.

  “Is this what it’s like in your kitchen when you’re not on TV?” Julie asked. Delgado’s had been so much smaller than this.

  Andrew shook his head. “It’s usually even more chaotic.” He grinned. “At least when it’s going well.”

  The first course arrived and Phillipe hovered behind them as they dove into wafer thin layers of crisp, thinly sliced ham over crab and cinnamon cakes with a bed of mixed vegetables and a tarragon reduction.

  She would have thought there would be too many ingredients all vying for center stage, but somehow eve
rything blended together perfectly. Phillipe seemed genuinely pleased when Julie said so, though not as pleased as he was when Andrew praised his creations. The big man practically skipped off to start work on the main course.

  “You seem to have the knack of making people happy,” Julie said.

  “Not quite everyone,” Andrew replied, with a deliberate look at her.

  For a moment, Julie’s smile dipped. They were clearly at a point already where it was best to just be honest. Painfully so.

  “It’s hard, doing your best, only to have someone to say it isn’t good enough.”

  “I know,” Andrew replied. “It’s just…I can’t just stand by and watch someone wasting their talent the way you do, Julie. You cooked phenomenally well yesterday on set. Why don’t you cook like that all the time?”

  “Because I know how much there is to lose when it goes wrong.” She knew exactly what it was like to sink everything she had into a dream, a goal she’d been aiming for her whole life, only to watch it explode like an over-risen soufflé. “Better than you.”

  As soon as she said the words, Julie regretted baring herself to him like that, but Andrew wasn’t looking at her with pity. He wasn’t regarding her as he would a loser who didn’t deserve to run a successful restaurant.

  Instead, the look in his eyes was gentle.

  Almost as if he cared about her.

  “I know you lost your restaurant,” he said softly so that no one but she could hear, “and I’m very sorry about that. But that’s not all that this is about, is it?”

  Before she could respond, Phillipe presented them with a couple of delicate looking savory soufflés and a latticework of crisped vegetables. Despite the intense discussion she and Andrew were having, Julie couldn’t resist the incredible food before her. It was that good.

  She was halfway through it before she spoke again. “When I was a kid, all I wanted to do was cook. Anything for anyone. I’d gather up people around the neighborhood and I’d do all the stuff you seem to want me to do. I’d throw in crazy ingredients—”