Those unusual grey eyes shot daggers at Alice and the raw edge to his voice spoke of determination. What a voice, deep and raspy. The tone reflected the scruff on his jaw. His long, coffee brown hair was pulled back, exposing a shaved strip along the base of his skull, and from what she could see from this angle, he sported a tattoo on the back of his neck. The circles under his tired eyes matched his niece’s, and it didn’t take a genius to read his distress. Her animosity toward him dimmed. She understood the reason behind his hostility. He was desperate to save his niece’s life.
He rubbed a hand across his cheek and sighed. “Look, I have to get ready for my other job. When you make up your mind, let me know.”
Niko spun on his heel and strode toward the back of the kitchen.
He was leaving? Just like that? She raced after him. Mitchell would kill her for even considering such a ridiculous deal. However, having the special at Christmas was his crazy idea, and he would pay the price for it. “How do I know if you’re worth it?”
“Oh, I’m worth it, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” A dimple appeared in his cheek as he glanced at her over his shoulder.
Sparks tingled along her skin, and her pulse fluttered. It’s not sexy, and it’s not confidence. It’s conceit. She almost rolled her eyes at herself. Niko was sexy. And far from conceited. Kitchens were notorious for arrogant chefs, and while he seemed sure of himself, vulnerability lingered beneath the surface. This wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a stubborn man. Alice learned long ago that when aggression failed, flirtation and downright flattery often did the trick. Bend over and take it like a man. “This is a great space.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, moving into a small hallway where a set of steep steps led to the upper floor. She rushed to catch up, unwilling to lose this battle of wills, but it was hard to stay focused when the chaps showcased his butt with every step he climbed.
Bend over and take it like a woman, the rebel in her whispered from the deep recesses of her brain where she kept it suppressed. “I’m here because of the application from CG.”
“Again, wasn’t me,” he said, jogging up the stairs until he reached a small landing. “And we are back to square one. You give me the money; I’ll go on your show. But don’t expect me to talk about Chloe.”
She dogged his every step and tried to gather her patience as she followed him into a cavernous room. “That’s not possible. You have to talk about why you’re competing.”
“I want the money. Isn’t that reason enough?” He flipped on a light switch. The harsh light from the uncovered bulb shadowed his face, highlighting a small bump on the bridge of his nose, probably broken in a fight. Yes, Niko was a bad boy and there was no denying he was hot. After the fiasco in college, Alice preferred men like her fiancé, Richard. Ivy League with an even temper. Since she’d met Niko, he’d done nothing except glare at her and make ridiculous demands. He was being a dick, and she considered telling him to go to hell, except the whole premise of the holiday show was based around this man and his niece.
“Sure, if you want to sound like a complete ass. You’re not the only chef who’s competing for a good cause. Charity is the foundation of the show,” she reminded him, and gave herself a mental reminder as well. Insulting him wasn’t in the plan, sucking up was. She relaxed her stance, and her dignity felt the burn. “I would love to tell you we want you based on pure talent alone. I can’t. Ratings are what get sponsors, and sponsors make it possible for me to break the rules and give you more money than we normally pay a contestant. I need your story to make this Christmas special a success.”
“Or what? You’ll retract your offer?” He crossed his arms and a smug smile twisted his lips.
Using every bit of patience she possessed, she mirrored his stance. Without a Christmas special, she’d lose access to Chloe and the girl was her true reason for coming to Seattle. Pride warred with practicality and while she was reluctant to concede without a further fight, concede she would. Once again, her future depended on the man standing before her.
Fate sure was a bitch.
“Nice try, but no. I can interview Hallie about Chloe, and you won’t have to make any comments about her until the final round. If you make it.” Jaw tight, she struggled to maintain a conciliatory tone. Begging wasn’t in her repertoire, and each word choked her pride.
“Don’t you mean, win it? I thought I was the star of the show. Isn’t that the point of this whole endeavor?”
“My show is not rigged, and to prove it, you’ll have to audition for your spot.” Audition for the spot? Really, Alice? Never in the entire history of the show had a contestant auditioned for a spot. Geez, the stress was making her delusional. It was a bluff, and from the shine in his eyes, they both knew it.
Chapter Five
“You want me to audition for a spot on a show I don’t want to be on?” Niko crossed his arms and looked down at his feet, trying to keep a straight face at her absurd challenge. He needed to get a handle on his amusement, otherwise, he’d lose the upper hand.
She let out a long, audible sigh. “No. I simply need you to say yes. Can we skip over the bullshit and agree to make this happen?”
Niko was on his way to the final bell and he had to go the distance. Composing his features, he raised his head and met her direct stare. “If you agree to my terms, yes, we can make this happen. Ten grand per round and interviews with Chloe are off-limits unless Hallie or I give you the greenlight. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” She held out a slender hand, and he fitted his palm against her much smaller one. She had a firm grip, professional and reserved. Like her. Yet the tiniest spark heated his skin at the contact spot. She colored even more and made to withdraw.
Niko retained his hold. He wasn’t through with her yet. “And you’re willing to work around my schedule? Because it’s crazy.” Hell, he didn’t even know how he managed to do it.
“Yes, I agree to your terms. The money is yours, but to make it fair, I’m giving all the contestants the same deal. My number and email are on my card. Please email me your schedule.” Alice tugged her hand from his and took a step back, her finger curling about a long lock of hair that rested against the swell of her breasts.
“I don’t have a set schedule. I’m bartending at an event tonight for a bunch of bankers. If it’s an early night, I’ll start my day at four a.m. If they close the place down, I’ll start at six a.m.” Thinking about it exhausted him. He was doing this for Chloe, and he couldn’t stop. Once the Christmas season ended, things would slow down, and the money would dry up. Worst case scenario, he could return to to the ring, but he wasn’t even close to sparring shape, let alone fighting shape. And be forced to leave his family, to leave Chloe? That wasn’t going to happen. The ten grand would definitely help—thirty grand if he won. And he had to win.
“I worked my way through college bartending. I get it. Let me know and I’ll be there.”
She wandered farther into the large room, head back as she inspected the high ceilings. A bank of windows ran along three of the four brick walls in the rectangular room. “This place is a blast from the past. Is the entire building yours?”
Before the cancer, he’d made enough money in the ring to buy the building, owning it outright. Not anymore. Everything he and his family owned was mortgaged to the hilt. Ever since Grace Chen had featured CG on her show, business had doubled, except he couldn’t afford to hire any quality help. Hell, they could barely afford Chloe’s health insurance, let alone the attorney they’d hired to help navigate the painful process of obtaining medical history from her birth parents. He had nothing, except the shirt on his back and the illusion of being a successful business owner. “Yep. It used to be an old dance hall in World War II. I have plans to make it into a tasting room. There’s an even bigger kitchen up here than the one downstairs, and it has some of the original appliances.”
“No way?” Exhilaration lit her eyes, animating her features. “Can I see it? I’m a bit of a history buff. I—” She seemed to catch herself, and the enthusiasm of seconds before dimmed into a prim smile. “I’m sorry, I’m keeping you from work.”
