Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me
"It's not that' Rose said, wondering for the millionth time where everything Vanessa scarfed down went on her slim body. "It turns out that I won a weekend of cooking lessons with Jack Gerard and-" Vanessa whirled so fast from the window that some of the bubbly spilled out of the top of the glass and onto the carpet. "Jack Gerard? Of Gerard's Restaurant? Are you kidding?"
Rose eyed her friend warily. "No. I'm supposed to meet him at his restaurant in a few minutes." "You lucky bitch' Vanessa exclaimed. "I saw an article about him in Food & Wine last month, and not only did they say that he's the biggest thing to hit the restaurant world since Thomas Keller, but the man is gorgeous. Forget about eating his food, I want to eat him:'
Rose felt her face flame. She was used to Vanessa's insatiable appetite for sex-and how much she liked talking about said appetite-but it was embarrassing when targeted at a man she was about to meet face-toface in a matter of minutes. Rose pulled a brush out of her bag and dragged it through her out-of-control, dark curls several times, finally giving up when she realized she was mostly ripping her hair out, rather than taming it. She wished everyone would stop going on about how good looking the chef was. All it did was make her more nervous about meeting him.
Rose had a stroke of genius. "Go in my place:'
Vanessa's eyes lit up for a moment, but then she shook her head. "Nice try:'
"I'm going to turn down the lessons anyway, so you might as well go instead of me:'
Vanessa advanced on Rose. "You're kidding me, right? First Carrie says no to the biggest diamond ring I've ever seen, and now you're turning down a weekend of pleasure" -she made the word "pleasure" sound naughty enough that Rose blushed again-"with a hot hunky chef?" Vanessa shook her head fiercely and wagged a long, slender finger at Rose. "Carrie did the right thing by dumping that prissy boyfriend of hers, but if you think I'm going to let you mess this up for yourself, forget it. You're going to meet Jack Gerard for more than a drink, but like hell if you're going dressed like that:' She took in Rose's baggy T-shirt and jeans with a look of disdain.
Before Rose could stop her, Vanessa was pulling one outfit after another out of her bag. "Nope, too frumpy. Nope, too boring. Yuck, what is this?" she said, holding up an orange-and-green print skirt. "This looks like an old curtain. I'm throwing it out:' She tossed a pink toiletry bag on the bed, along with some spreadsheets that Rose had brought in case she had some free time.
Finally, Vanessa smiled. "This is more like it;' she said, holding up a crimson tank dress that Rose had packed in case she magically lost ten pounds at the spa and got the nerve to wear it. "This dress is perfect. Sexy. Very you. Go put it on:'
"I can't wear that;' Rose protested. "I need to lose weight first.
A lot of weight'
"Put it on' Vanessa insisted in a scary voice, and Rose knew when she was beat. A few moments later, she slipped the dress over her head. It hugged every curve. Far too well.
"See;' she said, holding her arms out. "I look like the Michelin man in a cocktail dress:'
Vanessa shook her head. "You look amazing, Rose. That hot, hunky chef isn't going to know what hit him. I'd be surprised if you got any cooking done this weekend. Now go. And I'm going to want all the details when you get back tonight'
Rose slipped on her sandals and grabbed her purse, more than a little embarrassed about going out in public in such a revealing outfit. But while Vanessa might have been able to get her to change her clothes, Rose still hadn't changed her mind about the cooking lessons. Food was the last thing she needed right now, and she was going to turn the prize down.
No matter how hot Jack Gerard was.
JACK TOOK OFF HIS APRON and hung it up on the rack in the small office to the right of the kitchen. He looked at the clock, grimacing as he realized his cooking student would be here any moment. He'd much rather spend the weekend creating culinary perfection in his hot, busy kitchen with the rest of his staff, but Tracy, his publicist, had said it would be good for the restaurant, good for his image, to give some stranger cooking lessons. The local newspaper was going to do a feature on him and his student, and Tracy thought it would get picked up by the wire. And so he'd reluctantly allowed himself to be pressured into giving up a whole weekend for a Visitors Bureau tourist promotion.
Unfortunately, he already knew the kind of woman that would be walking into his restaurant to claim her prize. She'd be skinny, well manicured, perfectly coiffed and dressed. She'd gasp in horror at the calories in his dishes and proceed to do nothing but nibble on rice cakes all weekend.
And he'd have to act like he was having a good time in her company, because the last thing he needed was for her to complain to the press about his bad attitude. No matter how successful Gerard's was, Jack knew that in this business everything could change in an instant. Hot as he was now, two years in, he was still too new. Sure, Gerard's was booked four months out and his upcoming cable show looked to be on a fine course, considering the fact that the network had already rented and stocked a studio space in town. But he hadn't been around long enough to prove that his restaurant could stand the test of time. In another decade things would be different. He'd have more leeway to do what he wanted and say screw it to the things he didn't. At this stage in his career, when he was quickly building a name for himself as one of the best in the business, his reputation was everything. And Jack wanted every person who ate in his restaurant to go home with a taste of heaven on her 'lips. He wanted every person he shook hands with, talked with, to think, "Jack Gerard fed me the best meal I've ever had:'
"Hey, Boss." His sous-chef, Larry, poked his head in the door to the small, crowded office. "I think your lady is here. In the bar."
"Great;' Jack said, running his hands through his hair, getting ready to plaster a fake smile on his face for the next two days.
Larry grinned. "Hey, if you don't want to give her some lessons" -his fingers made lecherous quotes around the word "lessons"-"I'll take your place. It would be my pleasure, Boss:'
"Thanks for the backup."
Now he was curious. Larry had as much disdain for the anorexic type as he did. All chefs wanted the people around them to truly love food. Constant dieters never did. What were the odds that his student was a hot, curvy babe?
Jack stepped out of the kitchen and into the restaurant. Several regulars were dining, and he took a moment to say hello. Everyone was rapturous over what they'd ordered. Content that they were going to serve a very large, very satisfied crowd at Gerard's, Jack felt some of his tension fade. He scanned the bar for his pupil. But before he could locate his student, his gaze caught and stuck on a woman who had come straight from his triple- X dreams. Glossy, wavy black hair framed her heart-shaped face. Big, heavily lashed blue eyes blinked nervously as she scanned the restaurant for her party. Best of all was the figure that she was showcasing to perfection in her clingy red dress. Jack found himself salivating over her large br**sts, big enough that he'd need two hands for each one as he laved them with his tongue.