Nick raised a speculative brow. “Fricassee, huh? Sounds pretty wild.”
Why had she said that? Now she’d left herself open to whatever insinuation Nick threw at her. When she saw his eyebrow rise even higher, she knew she was in for it. No backing out.
Nick produced a knowing expression for the camera’s benefit. “Listen to the sound of it. Fric-as-see.” He overemphasized the first syllable. Facing Reese, he said, “Doesn’t that sound
wild
to you? Or wicked? Yeah, that’s what I meant.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nick, you could make a nursery rhyme sound bawdy.”
He looked aghast. “Bawdy?
Moi
?”
She breathed out a deep sigh for the audience, as if his kidding was so provocative.
“You think I was trying to make the term sound…sexy?” The last word came out in a stage whisper. “Shame, shame, Reese,” he admonished. “I said wicked, as in murder. Getting rid of someone.”
“Now there’s a thought,” she returned dryly.
Addressing the crew off-camera, he said, “Have we ever fricasseed anything? I would have remembered something as sensational as that.”
“Speaking of remembering, how about getting back to our menu?”
“Ah, yes. Our urban picnic.” He pushed pound cake her direction and began preparing strawberries and blueberries to top it.
They made short work of their respective tasks. Nick grabbed the package of pre-made rolls and arranged them in a basket while Reese threw a red and white checked tablecloth over the counter, since Nick couldn’t easily move to the floor. Next came a picnic basket, paper plates and cups followed by fine silver and even a nosegay for a centerpiece.
Voilá
! Urban picnic.
Reese de-skewered the pork balls and veggies and arranged them on a platter.
“It really does look like a picnic,” Nick marveled. “All we need are the ants.”
“Don’t suggest we have ants in our kitchen,” she chided. Inspiration struck. “No
aunts
allowed here.” The last was for Nick’s benefit. The audience would have no idea.
Nick briefly closed his eyes, bit a lip, then gave her a broad smile, while shaking his head. He handed her a flute of lemonade and clinked glasses in a toast. “To our partnership.”
It sounded innocent enough, but she detected an undertone of something else. And not just their mutual delight in being Leonie-free at the moment.
A few more wind-up comments, good-byes to the audience, and they were done. Jasper immediately burst from the control booth.
Both Nick and Reese remained rooted to their places in a state of suspended shock. They’d made it through the taping! Even without a script, no pockets of dead air. No kitchen catastrophes. And, the biggest surprise of all, it had been fun!
Nick revived first, pulling Reese onto his lap for a big bear hug. “We did it, Reese!” His exuberance caused her to slosh lemonade onto his shirt.
Grabbing a nearby tea towel and patting down the stain, still awestruck, Reese said, “We did, didn’t we?” In the midst of her ministrations, she looked up to catch him watching her, his eyes narrowed and dark.
But like that, his eyes snapped and melded into a congratulatory expression. “And you were worried about doing this? You’re a natural!”
“Thanks. You’re a great partner. Especially given your condition. How do you feel, by the way?”
“You have to ask? I feel so much better. Great, actually. Whatever we did was the best medicine.”
“Hey, you two. That was stupendous!” Jasper gushed, joining them. “Fantastic! More than I ever hoped for.”
“Really?” Reese asked, hopping up from Nick’s lap. “You liked it? You really liked it? Oh, God, I sound like that actress, don’t I?”
“Liked it?” Jasper repeated. “We may never use a script again.”
She shook out her hands to bring herself back to reality. Was that what was making her eyes swim? Or was it the unexpected contact with Nick? Whichever, she couldn’t stop smiling.
“It’s going to take more than the usual half hour between tapings for me to come down,” Nick told them.
“That may not be a problem,” Jasper replied. “I don’t see how a second time through could be as spontaneous as the first. It might even take the edge off that banter thing you’ve got going between you.” He turned to Reese. “Go relax. Use the extra dressing room. I’ll have some tea or juice sent back.”
At first, she couldn’t figure out what he meant. Why would she need tea or juice? She felt terrific. Then it dawned on her. She was now the Talent. The talent got certain perks.
She would have preferred to rush out to the street and tell the world how terrific she felt, but she deferred to Jasper’s suggestion. “Tea. Okay. Thanks.”
****
The dressing room was sparsely furnished: a make-up table, day bed, couch, TV set, and small refrigerator. But for Reese, it was like the high roller suite at one of Vegas’ top hotels, though she’d never been in one of those either. She’d barely settled onto the couch when a knock at the door interrupted her reverie.
Trudy shot through the door. She thrust a tray holding a cup and saucer and a small teapot at Reese. “Here. I’m now your personal assistant. Earl Grey had better be okay, because I’m not going back for more.”
Reese inhaled the sharp, piquant aroma of the hot liquid. Not quite what she needed to come down from her recent experience, but it would help. “Thanks. And sorry, I didn’t realize Jasper would stick you with that task.”
Trudy flopped onto the day bed, bounced several times. “This isn’t bad. I’ve been in here before, when taping ran long and some of us bugged out to catch a couple beers. But I’ve never been here in the presence of the
Star.
”
“Trudy! Give it a rest. I’m having enough trouble adjusting to this change.”
Trudy shot her a puzzled expression. “Trouble? Nick’s feeling worlds better, Jasper is enthralled, and you’re getting star treatment. Stop worrying about
adjusting
. Sit back and enjoy it while it lasts.”
Reese poured herself a cup of tea, hoping Trudy would take the hint and leave. She really needed some alone time to bask in her triumph and consider her next moves. This was all happening sooner than she’d planned. She’d been speed skating to keep up during the taping. She needed to slow the pace to choreograph the rest of her program.
Apparently oblivious to the cue, Trudy settled back, cuddled a throw pillow. “Does this new status mean you won’t be able to give me any more cooking lessons?”
Reese nearly choked on her tea. Despite the high drama surrounding the day’s taping, all this woman cared about was her cooking lessons? “I don’t know how much free time I’ll have for awhile. We’ll have to see.”
Her face wrinkling into a pout, Trudy’s response was interrupted by a new arrival.
“Reese? You in there?” Nick’s voice called from outside. Before Reese could reply, the door opened and James wheeled him into the room. Nick greeted her with, “Hey, Champ! I thought we might cel— Uh, hi, Trudy.”
She would have guessed Nick had headed off to his own dressing room to crash. But he’d sought her out instead. Interesting. “Look. Trudy brought me tea. Want some?”
“Uh, no.” He held up the bottle of water he’d tucked into the side of the wheelchair. “Thanks, James. You don’t need to stay. Reese will get me back to the set.”
He then turned to Trudy. “Thank you, too, “ he said dismissively.
Trudy continued to lounge.
More pointedly, he asked, “Would you mind giving us some privacy?”
Privacy? Was he still remembering that bear hug and the intense look they exchanged, like she was?
Trudy took her time but finally, reluctantly, drew herself up and departed.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Nick pronounced, “Alone at last!” He planted his hands on his thighs. “I’ve always wanted to say that. It sounds so Cary Grant.”
“Channeling the movie star today?”
“If he gets me the girl, yes,” he said, his eyes riveted to hers.
She knew that look. It said, “man on the prowl” whether he was mobile or not. Her stomach fought to maintain equilibrium while it felt like the floor had been removed from beneath her. Suddenly, the room temp shot upward, as she fought to clear her head. So, he had taken more away from that hug than just a simple show of mutual support. Decision time. Did she really want to cross that line?
She was still on a high following the taping, but forget that. Yes, she wanted to step over the line. Step? No, she wanted to leap across, banging her drum all the way.
However, that didn’t necessarily mean jumping right into bed with him. But she could certainly enjoy his attention.
“And what girl would that be today?” she flirted back. “Rosalind Russell? Katherine Hepburn?”
He continued to train his eyes on her. “Reese Dunbar.”
Oh. Wow. He really did mean business. “Well, Cary. You’re in luck. Reese Dunbar is available.” Was that her purring?
Available and out of my mind.
Determination in his eyes, he reached over and grabbed both her hands. The contact had the same effect as igniting the pilot light on a gas stove. Her whole body, her heart still pounding from her on-camera experience, was ready to cave.
His deep blues pinned her down. “You were beyond fantastic out there. It was like you’d been doing this for years.”
“Thank you.”
“Out there? When I said you were a natural at this? That wasn’t just for show in front of Jasper and the crew. I really meant it. I know I’ve been pushing you to do this since the night I went after you at
Solange
, but I had no idea how well you’d do until seeing you in action today.”
Her libido warred with her pride. Her body heat nearing nuclear reaction stage, his praise burned deeper, warming her pride. He liked it! She’d been so worried throughout the taping that she’d go too far and step on his actor’s ego.
“I couldn’t have made it through without your support. Like you figured, I was scared silly.”
“All I did was play straight man. You took it from there. You have a real flair for this stuff.”
“Coming from you, that’s a true compliment.”
“Good! Take that as my invitation to zap me out there whenever it feels right.”
She blinked. “That’s some concession.”
“Just don’t get carried away,” he told her with mock gravity. Before she could zing him on that, he went on, holding her hands even tighter, if that was possible. “Now, that said…” His eyes became even bluer, his gaze even more intense. In a low, raspy voice, he said, “Something else happened out there. Not in front of the camera. Between us.”
The air in the room seemed to disappear. At least there didn’t seem to be much available for breathing.
She waited for him to go on. When he didn’t, she probed, “Yes?”
All the while watching her, he said, “I think you know what. I’m crazy to act on it now. But then, no one’s ever accused me of overdoing restraint.” He released one hand from hers, placed his freed-up hand behind her neck, and drew her toward him. His lips crushed hers, drinking them in as if they were heady wine. When he at last released her, he pulled away and stared. Gulped. “Incredible.”
The kiss at the comedy club had been nice but brief. This kiss was…different. Longer, to be sure, but also much more intentional and inviting.
She struggled to remain aright, her knees ready to cave. He was telling her what he’d say to any woman he was celebrating with. But her inner core told her that wasn’t important right now. She should simply give in to it and enjoy the sensations percolating through her body.
He started to rise from the chair but immediately fell back. “Damn!”
“Here. Let me join you.”
His frown melded into a broad smile. “Be my guest.”
She parked her backside on his lap and turned sideways so she could see him. She couldn’t resist wriggling a bit to get settled, which she knew had to be throwing him into overdrive due to his quick intake of breath. It was doing things to her too. Setting off fires that should stay unlit until after the taping had officially ended. But she couldn’t hold herself in check. Just beneath the surface of the feelings she was barely containing was a conflagration rivaling any four-alarm fire.
“Oh, babe,” Nick murmured close to her ear. His breath tickled her hair and caused the tendrils along her neck to stand on alert. “That does crazy things to me.”
She faced him. “Maybe it’s the drugs in your system.”
“If I didn’t think I’d mess up the other ankle, I’d roll us both out of this chair and onto the floor.”
She cut off the rest of his words by lowering her mouth to his. His lips were firm and welcoming, tasting of mint. Her brazenness made it all the more tantalizing and exciting. She deepened the kiss, plunging her tongue into his mouth, not stopping to consider the consequences or the proprieties. She was running on sheer emotion and enjoying herself immensely.
Nick’s good hand snaked its way inside her chef’s jacket, plowing upward under her tee, spreading warmth as it went. She’d never made out in a wheelchair before. The confinement, though challenging, enhanced the excitement. Involuntarily, she began to wriggle against him and felt him stiffen beneath her.
His fingers were about to slip under her bra when a sharp rap at the door startled them both.
“Reese? It’s Jasper. I’ve got great news!”
Nick withdrew his hand and she sprang from his lap as if running to rescue a cake left in the oven too long. “Be right there, Jasper.”
“Later,” Nick whispered, his eyes a promise.
“Later.” She attempted a couple long, deep breaths before opening the door to their director. “What…what’s the verdict?”
If Jasper picked up on the scene he’d interrupted, he didn’t show it, other than a brief flicker of an eye as he moved past the wheelchair on his way to the day bed. “Good. You’re both here. We found a few minor glitches on the tape. Some we can edit and some we’ll keep. But I’d say we’re good to go. We’re done taping.”