Recipe for Attraction (10 page)

What kind of monster did they think he was? Someone who couldn’t even be happy about a wedding? Someone who chose business over family?

Was that the image he’d been projecting all of these months?

Neil approached his brothers and pulled all three of them into a hug. “I think I speak for Finn and Cole when I say…” Finn’s hand squeezed tightly where it gripped Neil’s shoulder in warning. He wasn’t going to ruin this moment. He needed this. They all needed this happy news. “This is the best news we’ve heard in a long time.”

Cole nodded and Finn smacked Neil’s shoulder in affection.

They celebrated for a while longer and Carson thanked everyone for allowing her to be a part of the special announcement.

Neil glanced at his watch. Ten to two. He had to get going. He still had to do the shopping and drive uptown to teach the program.

“Penn, can you get me the number for one of those car services? It’s my turn to teach the program and I need a ride.”

“I can take you.” Carson spoke from behind him.

“No, I’ll be quite a few hours and I don’t think a night with a few teenagers is your idea of fun.” They should probably keep their contact to the bedroom. Especially now that their business was concluded. Spending too much time together would just make things way too complicated.

“I’d like to go. See what the program is all about. I’ve heard all about it. Maybe I can help.”

Unlike his brothers, Neil didn’t get too deep into the lives of the kids in the program. But despite trying to keep his distance, he knew that bringing Carson along could lead to doors of his past he wanted kept shut. Doors she had no business opening. Her or anyone else for that matter.

Despite his concerns, he heard himself say, “All right.” The words slipped from his mouth. Too easily. “But I don’t like slackers. You’re going to have to cook.”

Carson winked. “Whatever you say, Chef.”

Chapter Six

With groceries piled high in the back of her pickup, Neil directed Carson to the high school. She’d hated high school. Too many standards to live up to. Too many bad memories.

She kept her head straight, doing her best to concentrate on the road, but her eyes darted to her right where Neil sat in the passenger seat of her truck.

She had visited Bistro to get some answers—and she’d gotten more than she’d bargained for. Sex. Really great sex. And an invitation to a very private family gathering. And that kiss. That tiny kiss on top of her head was even more intimate, even more meaningful than all of the thrusting and licking they had done in his office.

“You really don’t have to participate. I’m sure you have construction workers to castrate, HVAC companies to ream out.”

So he wanted to play dirty.

“And I’m sure you’ve dated at least a few of the girls at this school.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Christ, I don’t date teenagers. You really think that low of me?”

She shrugged. “If the gossip rags say it’s true…”

“That was one time.” He shook his head.

“So then you
have
dated a teenager?”

“She was twenty and very mature for her age. And it’s not like it was last week. It was years ago.” He sighed. “You know those magazines print garbage and more than half of the stuff isn’t true.”

She had really hit a nerve. He looked genuinely upset at her accusations. She pulled into a parking spot.

“Look, you can think whatever you want of me, but could you at least keep it to yourself while we’re in there.” He gestured to the building. “I have to maintain some kind of respect.

She nodded. She would never purposely bash him in public, especially not to a bunch of kids who looked up to him.

When they parked, Neil looked over and smiled. “Come on assistant. It’s show time.”

“Architect. Assistant. Chauffeur.” When it came to Neil Harrison, she wore far too many hats. “You better not get used to this, Harrison.”

“Don’t forget sex slave.” He winked and held out his hand, and she took it as she slid across the bench seat of the pick-up.

“And I will cook my own food, thank you very much.” She crossed her fingers behind her back. She never had time to cook at home—but it couldn’t be that hard. And why bother when the freezer section and take out did such a good job for her?

He smiled. “I didn’t think the assistant thing would fly. So if you’re not my assistant and you’re no longer my architect, what about chauffeur and sex slave? I’m going to need someone to drive me around and fuck me for the next seven days.”

“Are you saying you want me around for the next seven days?”

Her stomach fluttered with nervousness waiting for his answer.

This was the best idea she’d heard in a long time. Now that her job at the site was complete, she had no excuse to see Neil anymore. Agreeing to be his chauffeur was the perfect way to remedy that.

“You’re going to need someone to argue with. It might as well be me.” He grinned. “And they say make-up sex is the best kind of sex.”

Where did she sign up? “I’m in.”

The first thing they did was check in with the front office. They walked through the halls and Carson felt so tiny yet so big at the same time. Being an adult in high school automatically made the walls close in on her, the distance between the floor and the ceiling barely enough to allow her to breathe. The feeling completely at opposition with the very large, very buff man walking beside her.

Neil’s presence had always felt larger than life, but here, in a place where boys were barely men, the blatant masculinity that exuded from this man ricocheted off the walls. Even the young girls roaming the hallways stopped what they were doing, mouths ajar, to take in the sight of him.

“It’s just at the end of the hallway.” Neil said as he maneuvered them around a group of loud kids, his hand finding the small of her back as he guided her along.

Just the slight touch of his hand on her clothing sparked a fire inside her. But here, in front of these kids, she needed to maintain her distance. Even though the job may be over, she didn’t want any rumors about an inappropriate client relationship circulating. Didn’t want anyone thinking there were additional fringe benefits to hiring her.

They entered and she was immediately taken back a few decades. Browns and beiges covered everything in the room. The walls, the desktops, the shelving. Someone had decorated this room in 1970 and hadn’t bothered to update it since.

“See the five stations?” He pointed to the individual kitchenettes plotted throughout the room. “We need to divvy up the ingredients and lay out the right cooking utensils.”

The first thing he did was wash his hands then put on an apron. Carson was startled when he threw one at her. “If you’re going to cook, you gotta wear an apron.”

She put it over her T-shirt and tied the strings around her waist.

He searched through the bags and cursed under his breath. “Did you bring the shallots?”

“I thought they were in the bag.” She approached the front of the room and searched a second time.

“They’re probably in one of the other bags.” He had bought extra food to keep him fed while he stayed at the farm during his suspended license phase. “Stay here and I’ll go get them.” He held out his hands for the keys.

She hesitated but grabbed the keys out of her bag and handed them over.

She finished the few tasks he had assigned and with nothing to do but wait, she took a seat at the front of the classroom.

“Are you our new teacher?” A soft voice carried from the doorway.

A young girl, probably ten years old, with dark skin idled by the door. Carson thought this was a class for teenagers. Sidling up behind her, a teenage girl with flawless dark skin who showed too much of it, and three teenage boys studied her just as intently.

Carson shook her head. “No, I’m just a visitor. Neil should be back any minute.”

“Is he in a good mood or a bad mood today?” the older girl asked.

A boy broke through the group and walked to one of the desks. “Damn ‘Rissa. I’d be in a bad mood if I had to teach you, too.” He wore a blue hat backwards and jeans slung low on his hips.

“Shut your face.”

“Go suck a—”

“I see we’ve wowed Ms. Kelly with our exceptionally classy behavior.”

Neil entered the room, shallots in hand. The two other boys had followed and grabbed their seats. He didn’t waste any time getting down to business. “All of you can come up and grab some shallots.”

“What’s a shallot?” the young girl asked.

“A shallot is like an onion in appearance, but with a milder flavor.” Neil held one up. “We’re going to be using a few ingredients today that we’ve never used before.”

The kids approached the front table. Neil greeted the boys with fist pumps and half hugs. The girls—Larissa and Maya—simply got a nod.

“Neil!” Another teenage girl with olive-colored skin ran into the room. “I made the white fish just like you said.” She panted, but managed to get out her sentences. “My
abuela
said it was the best she’s ever had. I brought some for you to try it.” She opened the lid from the Tupperware and immediately a rotting smell filled the air around them.

“Damn, girl.” The boy in the blue hat cringed. “What did you do to that fish?”

“That smells like my Uncle Fifty’s fridge after he’s been on a bender,” one of the other boys said.

The poor girl looked devastated.

“Selena, when did you make this?” Neil asked.

“Last Thursday right after class.” A chorus of groans caused the girl to shrink back. “Is that bad?”

“Are you trying to poison the teacher?” Larissa said with her hand waving in the air.

“I’m sorry.” Selena looked down to the ground.

“It’s all right.” Neil patted her on the shoulder. His action was stiff. Carson wondered if he was uncomfortable with the girls. She wished she could take back the teenager comment.

“Give me that.” He took the container from the girl’s hands. “Next week we’re going to have a lesson in food storage and best before dates.” The group disbursed. “Put on your aprons and let’s get started.”

Neil emptied the bad food into the garbage.

“That smells disgusting.” Carson wrinkled her nose.

He nodded. “But she did it. That’s all that matters.”

Carson smiled and was happy with her decision to join Neil this afternoon. She had a feeling this was going to be an enlightening peek into the psyche of Neil Harrison. Payback for his front row seat to her father’s humiliating distrust of her work ethic.

“Today our menu is going to focus on your knife skills. We’re making a vegetable tian, a minute steak with caramelized onions and blue cheese, and for dessert, strawberry tarts.”

Crap. She probably should have mentioned that she couldn’t cook.

“I’ve made today’s dish a little harder because for one, we have a guest.”

Carson shrunk in her seat at the evil stares she got from the kids.

“Who’s she?” Larissa asked between wide, open-mouthed chomps of her gum.

Neil stopped and turned. Carson gave a little nervous wave to the group of kids. “I’m Carson Kelly. I’m an architect.”

“What are you doing here?” the kid in the blue hat asked.

“I’m just observing.”

“She’s cooking,” Neil corrected.

“Right…cooking.”

“You can’t learn if you don’t get your hands dirty, right Chef Harrison?” The little girl jumped up from the back of the room.

“That’s right, Maya.”

Was that a motto he made them learn the first day of class?

“You can put together one hundred story skyscrapers, but you’re afraid to make a gourmet meal?”

“I’m not afraid.” Carson stared him down, meeting his taunting eyes. He was daring her. She stood and grabbed the knife on the counter.

He smiled and turned back to the kids. “The second reason is because the techniques used in this recipe are going to be at the core of everything you make at the opening of the farm. You should be practicing these techniques so that you’re prepared to work and help out in the kitchen as part of our intern program.” He held up his hand. “Speaking of which, did you all bring your consent forms?”

The kids ruffled inside their bags and each pulled out a piece of paper.

“I’m allowed to go too, Chef Neil.” The little girl, Maya, jumped up and down in the back.

“You know you won’t be able to cook, right. You can only watch.”

She nodded.

When all of the consent forms were collected, Neil got back to business.

“How about we make this interesting. I will give a prize to the chef who makes the best steak.”

“We’ve never gotten a prize.” The little girl shouted out again.

This time she was sitting with Larissa. The longer Carson looked at them the more she thought they could be sisters.

The boy with the red hat leaned back against his chair. “You always say the prize is in learning how to do something.”

Carson smiled. Such words of wisdom coming from such a stoic individual.

“What’s the prize?” One of the other boys asked.

Neil crossed his arms over his chest. “Does it matter?”

“Hell, yes,” the boy in blue sang out.

“Fine.” Neil relented. “A gift card…to…Williams-Sonoma, so you can buy some cooking things.”

Groans.

“With such a warm reception to that idea, I think we’ll keep it. Williams-Sonoma it is.”

Neil began his instruction with rigidity. After a few minutes he loosened up, but not much. The kids asked questions and Neil responded giving them exactly the information they were looking for, and nothing more.

He stood at the counter and picked up the knife, instructing the kids on the best way to cut a shallot. The apron covered his chest and waist, highlighting his muscular arms. He sliced through the tiny bulb in perfect, consistent strokes, his bicep and forearm clenching for a split second on his down cut.

She lifted her gaze from the perfectly diced shallot to Neil’s face. He was staring right at her, talking, chopping and disarming her with those eyes she wanted to stare into all night long.

For the second part of the lesson, Neil asked the group to split up. Girls at one station, boys at another. Which was the best move he could have made as far as information collecting went. Teenage girls liked to gossip, didn’t they?

“He doesn’t like girls,” Selena said.

“What are you talking about?” Carson knew for a fact he liked girls. He liked them a lot.

“Look at him.” Larissa pointed to where Neil shot the shit with the boys. Pats on the back were exchanged.

“He barely stands five feet away from us and always asks us to move out of the way before he helps us with anything.”

“Maybe he’s gay,” Selena said.

“He’s not gay,” Carson blurted. She cleared her throat and continued on peeling carrots. He didn’t seem to have any trouble being near her, close to her, letting his hand scrape her skin.

“Is that why you’re here?” Larissa’s face changed in an instant from curious to excited. “Are you two hooking up?”

“Hooking up? Don’t be silly.” She wasn’t disclosing such personal information to a kid. “I’m just the chauffeur.”

“And the fact that he’s different today?” Selena asked. She leaned across the counter. “Are you dat—”

“No!” Carson blurted the word causing Neil and the three boys to look over.

Neil Harrison was one hundred percent not gay. But the fact that he took such a hands off approach with the girls was curious.