Boring plans, boring life. Boring Richard.
Shut up, Alice.
Chapter Seven
Niko called out good morning to Hallie before he headed to the CG kitchen. Bright lights spilled into the hallway and muted conversation reached him before he entered the room. Ronan was placing lighting near one of the prep tables.
His desk was draped in black, a 3Square logo board propped on it. Alice sat in the desk chair, her computer opened, long legs crossed at the ankle. She wore a black skirt and a white slinky blouse, sheer enough to reveal the lacy straps of her bra.
Nice.
“Sorry, I’m late. The bankers decided to party all night long.” Niko unbuttoned his dress shirt and pulled the fabric out of his pants. He’d hit traffic on his way home, wasting valuable time. Another client had called and increased their order, great for business, not great for sleep. He removed the black shirt and threw it into the laundry bin by the desk.
“No, it’s fine, Ronan is working on the sound. Do you have a logo board or a banner you’d like to have in the shot?”
“There’s one somewhere upstairs. I don’t have time to look for it.” He hadn’t even had time to eat, and his stomach was rumbling. Crouching on the floor, Niko pulled up the black tablecloth high enough to open the bottom desk drawer and searched out a change of clothes.
Alice moved her legs to give him space and he had an unfettered view of her smooth skin. She smelled like vanilla and woman, a heady combination. He’d been living in a sex desert, and she was a cool glass of water. Niko grabbed his chef’s pants and shoes, his fingers digging into the material as he stood. She’s also engaged.
Niko slammed the drawer shut with more force than he’d intended and settled the cloth back in place. He stepped into the locker room behind the desk and stripped off his dress pants. Alice was a business associate. He’d be better off calling the cute waitress he’d met at the event last night. She had invited him over to her place for a drink, and more. Shit, there was a time he’d have forgone work for the offer. He was no longer the same irresponsible man who’d drifted through life on a whim.
“Speaking of upstairs, I have a proposal for you. How would you feel about renting us the upstairs space? I’ll pay you the going rate, but I need approval to make some cosmetic changes. My kitchen team are all professionals, so you needn’t worry about the quality of the work.”
Her question caught him off guard and he rounded the corner, his mind spinning with the possibilities of her offer. “What?”
Alice’s eyes widened and she scanned him from head to toe before her chest reddened and color bloomed on her cheeks.
“Dude, put some pants on,” Ronan said, chuckling.
Niko realized he was standing in the kitchen in nothing but his boxers and socks. “Oh, sorry,” he said. He rushed back to his clothes and jammed his legs into the pants. Numbers raced through his head as he calculated the financial windfall from renting the space. Could he get enough to cover the CG’s mortgage for three months? It depended on how desperate Alice was and how well he could negotiate. Inhaling a deep breath, he slipped on a CG fitted black T-shirt and ball cap before he returned to the kitchen and Alice. “You’re putting on a show in a couple of weeks and you don’t have a venue?”
“Of course I have a venue, I just like the feel of your space better,” she said, lowering her jaw before she rolled her finger over the mousepad on the laptop.
Interesting, the question made her uncomfortable. Was she lying, and if so, why? Did it matter? He’d be able to get some additional funds, money he desperately needed. “When you say cosmetic changes, what do you mean?”
A line appeared between her eyebrows and she stretched her neck, exposing smooth, creamy skin. “The wall between the kitchen and the main room will have to come down. Unless it’s load-bearing, then we’ll need a permit, which means we can’t use the space.”
“It’s not load-bearing. As I said, I’ve had plans drawn up for the tasting room.” Tone down the enthusiasm, dumbshit. You need to bargain with her, not hand over the keys. “You can have the building plans once we’re finished with this, and I’ll forward you a written estimate for the space.”
“Then we have a deal?” she asked.
“If you like my terms, yes, we do. So let’s get the ball rolling. I have work to get done.”
Alice straightened her spine and folded her hands in her lap, her movements slow and measured. “You promised me an interview.”
“I’m giving you one.” He washed his hands and then filled a pan with water. “I have to make a couple hundred truffles for tonight, so consider this a hands-on interview. And since you insist on being here, I’m putting you to work. There should be a shirt in the drawer you can put on. Have you ever made candy before?”
She spoke through tight lips. “No, I can’t say I have.”
He turned on the stove, hiding his grin. Miss Firecracker was about to explode. “Well, after a few hundred, you’ll get the gist of it. You’ll need to wash your hands. I’ll get the chocolate.”
Alice stood at the sink when Niko exited the refrigerator with a sheet pan laden with a block of chocolate and a bowl of shaved chocolate. She’d put on a baggy white shirt that dwarfed her small frame and was washing her hands.
Niko slid the pan on to the counter and the slight grating sound of metal against metal resonated with his own internal turmoil. The amount to charge for rental of the space loomed foremost in his mind, but he had to keep himself focused. He’d promised her an interview, and for better, or worse, things were about to get real.
He slipped behind her to grab the box of latex gloves from above her head. Her soft hair brushed the underside of his arm, and the subtle smell of her shampoo drifted to his nose. He met her gaze in the mirror over the sink as he lowered his arm.
She snatched the paper towels from the dispenser and dried her hands. “Don’t you think you should put on a chef’s coat? This segment will air on national television.”
