****
“I could easily get used to this,” Reese confessed the next day as she and Nick headed off on their marketing trip with Nick’s car and driver. She snuggled against the plush leather seat, relishing the cool, satiny feel against her exposed neck.
“What? Being driven around?”
“That, too, but what I meant was how sumptuous it is.” She rolled her shoulders against the back of the seat, then stroked the seat between the two of them. Closing her eyes briefly, she emitted a deep sigh. “It’s so comfy and soft.”
He leaned back too, letting his broad shoulders sink into the upholstered backrest but chastely keeping them on his side of the seat. He gazed about the car’s interior as if seeing it for the first time. “It is pretty lush, isn’t it?” His comment emerged as a hoarse whisper.
He turned away then, appeared to study the passersby on the street. Clearing his throat, he said, “Where are we going first?”
“Guardinis. For staples like flour and sugar for the pound cake.” She thought out loud. “I can probably get the butter there as well. We’ll do the produce last, to keep it fresh.
“How did you get around last week, minus the car and driver?”
She faked a brave smile. “I took cabs and a smaller cooler than today on a pull-cart.
“I’m impressed. Quite resourceful.”
“Actually, it was Trudy’s suggestion.”
He nodded, considered her. “Modest too. You know, you’re a different story.”
She raised a brow. “How do you mean?”
He leaned closer. “Has no one ever told you how serious you come across?”
“No one. Unless you count my mother, my brothers, my stepfather, my friends at the restaurants where I’ve worked, and everyone I’ve ever met.”
He drew back and narrowed his eyes. “Then you may have heard this before. But it bears repeating. You need to chill, Ms. Dunbar. You’re too intense.”
She slid further away from him. “Me? What about you, Nick?”
He jerked. “No one has ever accused me of being intense.”
“That’s my point,” she shot back. “You’re so into coming across as a lightweight, you have trouble recognizing someone who’s simply a little more into her work.”
Brow raised, he said, “Lightweight? Is that the masculine version of an airhead?”
“Oh, you’ve got brains. But for some reason, you’re reluctant to show them.”
He ran a hand down his pants leg. “Really? Enlighten me.”
She backed further into her side of the seat. “Sorry. I’ve said too much.”
He shook his head. “Oh no, you don’t! Finish what you started.”
What had possessed her to broach this particular topic? Probably because she was tired of being told to lighten up. Not just by Nick, but by everyone she knew, so she had lashed out in self-defense. “Okay, since you insist. You really have this charm thing honed to a fine art. You’re funny. Witty, really. It’s not a challenge to look at you. And you appear to be at the peak of your form right now. So why do you put up with your aunt?”
Now it was Nick’s turn to back into his corner. “Whoa! Didn’t see that one coming.”
“Now that it’s here, are you going to answer?”
He didn’t respond immediately. Had she hit a nerve?
He leaned forward, then turned to face her. “Leonie does come across a little strong,” he admitted, “but that’s because she thinks she has to control every last detail.”
“Why does she care that much? It’s your show, isn’t it?”
Nick shook his head vehemently. “I’m just the on-screen talent.”
“You’re the chef. Everything revolves around you, not her.”
He pushed farther back into his seat. “Actually, no. The show was her brainchild. I just came along for the ride.”
“Oh.” That explained Leonie’s obsessive need to be in charge but not Nick’s willingness to
go along for the ride
. He was too smart to settle for being his aunt’s lackey. But that was a puzzle for another day. A quick check out the window confirmed they were drawing near Guardinis. Not your everyday market, but she didn’t deal in the everyday. Fresh, quality ingredients were half the secret of fantastic cuisine. Her talent made up the rest. So that’s what Nick was going to see.
Delicious, tantalizing aromas greeted them as they entered the market, a tiny masterpiece of disorganized clutter. “I’ve known the Guardinis, Georgio and Lucia, since I was a cooking school student,” Reese told him as they threaded their way through a narrow aisle of foodstuffs. “They’ve come to my rescue more than once when I ran short on some special ingredient. I’ve nicknamed them my
guardian
angels. Guardini, guardian…get it?”
“Yeah, I got it.” Nick nudged her elbow. “See, I wasn’t the least reluctant to show my brains that time.”
She stopped in her tracks. “You were listening back there in the car.”
He rolled his eyes. “Even we lightweights have our days.”
The easy flow of their banter surprised her. Thus far, even during their non-date/date the previous weekend, she’d regarded Nick as a charming, incredibly handsome Cary Grant type. But she was learning that the guy also had some depth to him. She’d apologize and tell him so, if she didn’t think her admission would go to his head. She hadn’t changed her mind about his ego.
“Reese?” A short, dapper-looking gentleman in a gray herringbone three-piece suit despite the June heat had turned into their aisle. He set down the crate he’d been carrying and charged toward them, grabbing her arms. “
Cara
! I’m so glad to see you. Lucia and I have missed you. We were afraid you’d taken offense to our warnings the last time you were here.” It had been the Guardinis who’d told her about Louis Fronton’s efforts to blacklist her.
“Uh, yes, that.” She had to change the topic fast before Georgio revealed to Nick how desperate she’d been when she took this job. “Georgio, this is Nick Coltrane, host of—”
“Yes, yes, I know your show,” her friend cut in. “Lucia and I try not to miss it. Even try to record it on that fancy contraption she bought me, when I remember the directions.”
Nick turned to Reese. Under his breath he whispered, “He actually watches the show. He’s the first viewer I’ve met in the flesh.”
“So. You’ve moved on to television,
cara
? Given your sit—”
“Yes, that’s right,” she interjected before he could finish. Not only did she want to keep Nick from knowing about the blacklisting, she didn’t want the Guardinis to know she was only a production assistant. Though they were friends, it would be too easy for them to let it slip about her new job when talking with their other customers. “I’m working with Nick on a new segment they’re considering for the show. Where they follow the process of putting the show together, visiting markets like yours being one of those steps.”
Georgio’s eyes widened. “Really?” He sought out Nick. “You’re here to tape today?” His voice had risen to an eager pitch.
“Actually,” Nick said, “we’re trying out the idea to see if it has legs. I asked Reese to do some commentary. Do you mind?”
Trust Nick to appeal to Georgio’s ego. But it worked, as Georgio replied, “Mind? I’ll give her pointers, if that helps.” He grabbed Nick’s hands and pumped them. “This is such an honor. Wait! Don’t start yet until I find Lucia.”
Once Georgio was out of earshot, Reese faced Nick. “You are so bad!”
He waggled his brows and shot her a conspiratorial smile. “Au contraire, my dear. I am that good.”
After Georgio located his wife and introduced her to Nick, Reese went off with her to gather up the items she’d come to purchase.
“So,
cara
. How long have you and that gorgeous man been an item?”
Reese started. “Nick and I?”
The other woman tipped her head to the side, waited for Reese to say more.
“Tempting as the idea might be, we’re just work associates.”
“But it seems so evident. He watched you walk away from him like he’d never set eyes on you again.”
“You think?” Since that kiss at the comedy club, she’d been seeking clues that it had been more than a friendly contest between friends. But so far, she’d picked up on nothing. Until Lucia’s observation.
They left Guardini’s only after they promised to return soon, when they could enjoy a more leisurely tour. Nick dropped into his seat in the town car, a broad smile on his face. “That place is a real trip.”
“It is a little offbeat,” she admitted. “But their products are quality all the way.”
“What I meant was the owner. I haven’t gotten the star treatment since Hollywood.”
She placed a warning hand on his arm. “Careful. Don’t let fame go to your head yet.”
He laughed. “Given our current ratings, there’s not much chance of that.”
“Our next stop is Monfort Brothers Produce. The Monfort Brothers, Billy and Pudge, are the last of a dying breed of produce mongers,” she explained as the car headed farther downtown. “Physically, their operation is small, but their reputation and egos are immense.”
The car jerked as their driver suddenly found a parking spot, then swerved sharply to pull in. Nick snaked a protective arm around Reese. “Hang on.”
Her body went into immediate alert the instant they came into contact.
Unfortunately, there was little time to savor the feeling, let alone do anything about it. Within seconds, the door on her side of the car opened and the driver’s hand appeared to help her alight.
Unlike the claustrophobic atmosphere of the Guardini Market, the Monfort place, an old brick warehouse, loomed high and wide, shafts of sunbeams from upper windows cutting laser paths through the produce stands below.
She paused just inside the entrance and scanned the main chamber. Where were they? Ah, yes, off in the distance where they seemed to be up to their usual tricks, facing off in what appeared to be another one of their arguments. “Great. I hoped for once I’d catch them in mellow moods.”
“Who?” Nick asked, bumping into her from behind, yet again sending her body into overdrive. Was he doing that on purpose?
She nodded toward the back of the large room filled with aisles and stacks of food products. “Them. Billy and Pudge. The Monfort Brothers.”
“The owners, right? What’s the big deal? They’re just arguing.”
“No time to wait for them to calm down. We have to get back for rehearsal.”
Where Georgio and Lucia had been interested, amicable, and helpful, the Monforts were contentious, belligerent, and totally disinterested in her grocery list or helping with their research. Each brother’s attention extended only as far as his sibling.
Nick took in the brothers’ argument. “Seems pretty clear to me. They need a referee.” He turned to her. “Why don’t you tend to the items on your list? I’ll see to the guys. Once we make happy again, we can do your commentary.”
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t worry. I can handle them,” he called over his shoulder.
But she did worry. Nick had no idea who he was dealing with. If the Monforts weren’t going to curtail their skirmish when they saw a customer, they certainly wouldn’t listen to a supposedly disinterested third party.
She followed in his wake rather than start her shopping. His swagger looked kinda cute, kinda foolish as he approached the feuding siblings.
“Gentlemen, could you spare a few minutes from your, uh, discussion, to answer a few questions?”
The shorter and more rotund of the two brothers, that would be Pudge, halted a hand in mid-gesture to stare back at him. The other man narrowed his eyes and scowled.
“I’m Nick Coltrane.”
“Yeah. So?” the shorter one said.
“I’m here with Reese Dunbar. We’d appreciate it if one or both of you could help us with our selections.”
The taller one, Billy, shook his head. “No can do. Not right now. My brother and I are in conference.”
“Conference, huh? Could’ve fooled me. Looks like an out-and-out argument from where I stand.”
“Then stand somewhere else so you’re not in our way,” Pudge said.
Pudge and Billy resumed their squabble, ignoring Nick.
From a safe distance away, Reese called, “Nick. It’s best to give them their space at times like this. I can find the items on my list on my own.”
Nick didn’t budge, other than to motion for her to move off.
“How do you explain these grapes?” Pudge demanded of his brother, holding a bunch of the offending fruit up to the light. “The color’s off. And they’re starting to shrivel. There’s no way folks will buy these.”
“Come off it, Pudge,” Billy lifted his own sample. “There’s nothing wrong with these.” Popping a couple in his mouth, he announced, “These taste fine.”
“Like you can tell.”
“Well, Mr. Know-It-All, we’re keeping them anyhow.” Billy threw his bunch of grapes on top of those heaped in the bin. The impact was so intense, several toppled onto the floor.
“Now look what you’ve done.” Pudge went down on his knees to retrieve the spilled fruit. “Suppose some customer slipped on this?”
Billy slammed a fist against the bin, knocking yet more grapes onto the floor. “Well, ex-cuse me!”
Pudge shot his brother a murderous look. “I could use some help here.”
Nick closed the gap between them. “Geez, guys, give it a rest!” He inserted himself in the midst of the brawling brothers.
“Leave them be, Nick,” Reese warned. But her words went unheeded. In the blink of an eye, the argument morphed into a slugfest.
Nick was no match for their sparring, even though he was taller and probably stronger than the other two men. He ducked the first blow, managing to escape their fisticuffs, but the second time around, he shifted his stance, his foot connecting with the grapes Billy had dropped, causing him to lose his balance. At the same time, Billy punched him on the shoulder and one of Pudge’s returns landed on his jaw, sending him sprawling onto the floor. As he went down, his foot slid on the grapes and twisted under him.
Good God! She knew something like this could happen. Damn his macho need to take control. “Nick!” she screamed, running up to him.
He moaned, gripped his ankle. “Oh! Ow! Ooh!”