Being alone with Alex was not a good idea at all…
As she was removing the last of the items from the sack he entered the kitchen and came to stand next to her. His nearness had the effect of changing the rhythm of her breathing.
“What can I do to help?” she blurted.
He plucked the olive oil from the rest of the items. “For Frikassee of Lamb, I’ll need a deep skillet and a whisk.”
In a jerky movement, she opened one of the bottom cupboards and rummaged around for the kind of pan he wanted. The whisk was in the second drawer.
“Here you go. What else can I do?”
“Slice those onions for me.”
While she found the chopping board and a knife, he poured some oil in the pan and set it on the burner. Then he reached for a mixing bowl and started cracking eggs.
He worked fast. It was fascinating to watch him use the whisk so expertly while he added lemon juice. She felt his total concentration on what he was doing.
After washing her hands, she got started on her task. Pretty soon tears were streaming down her face. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and chuckled.
“I should have told you to put a little piece of bread in your mouth. It helps prevent the fumes from tickling your nose.”
“I didn’t know that! Was it one of your grandmother’s tricks?”
“No. My grandfather’s. Otherwise he couldn’t stay in the kitchen to help.”
She wiped her eyes with her arms. “How fun those times must have been.”
He opened the package of chops and started salting them. “You know how it is when you’re young. You don’t appreciate how happy you are until those times are gone.”
“You’re right. I didn’t particularly love to weed, but, when I look back on it now, those times with Daddy were priceless.” She took the board of onions over to him.
He darted her an intense look. “Are you sure you’re not a professional cook? You did those just right.” He poured them into the hot oil to soften them up.
That was how his compliment made her feel. Soft and eager for the attention he showered on her. So far it had been a magical day. But reality would hit as soon as his girlfriend arrived.
She needed to get here before Reese forgot Alex had been entertaining her for the sole purpose of making her cut-off day from the studio bearable.
With deft movements, he placed the chops in the skillet and browned them on both sides. Then he washed the kos lettuce. With the leaves still wet, he placed them on top of the meat and added fresh dill before covering the pan.
While it simmered, he prepared a green salad, and a side dish of rice with a tomato sauce made of a dozen ingredients.
When the lamb was ready, he poured in the egg mixture. “Now for the most important ingredient.”
He knew she was mesmerized by everything he said and did.
“What is it?”
“A few teaspoons of Mavrodaphne wine. It smells and tastes like the sugar-sweet plums and black raisins growing around my grandparents’ villa. We’re about ready to sit down to a meal I promise you will enjoy.”
“Then I’d better hurry and set the table.”
She put out three place mats and her aunt’s best china and silver. Alex had searched until he’d found an imported dry white wine from Crete. No doubt it went superbly with the meal he’d planned, so she placed three wineglasses next to their water glasses.
They worked in harmony getting everything ready to put on the table. Faint from hunger, she could have eaten the whole ball of crusty bread he called Psomi.
Reese had placed him at the head of the table. She flicked him a glance after he’d seated her. “I feel honored the master chef is dining with me, too.”
“I’m the one who’s honored.” He poured wine into both their glasses.
“Alex-we really shouldn’t start until your girlfriend gets here.”
“Yes, we should,” he came back forcefully. “This meal is ready to be eaten. To wait would ruin it. Try the lamb before you taste anything else, even your wine. That way you’ll detect its unique flavor. I want your opinion.”
She looked at him with pleading. “Is this another test to decide if you’ll be offering this dish to customers?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t really mean that.”
The glimmer in his eyes unsettled her. “You’re my first customer. It may be one of my favorite dishes, but if you find it an acquired taste, I need to know immediately.”
She lowered her head. “I don’t think I want the responsibility.”
“Now you’re sounding like Carly. I thought she’d gone away.”
“I’m afraid there’s more Carly in me than you realize.”
“You mean the one who asked Fabio to marry you?”
“No. That part was totally out of character thanks to Stan and his writing staff.”
“But you have to admit it got her what she wanted in the end.”
“True.”
“Come on. Live dangerously and take a bite,” he said in a husky tone.
One taste before swallowing and Reese said, “You don’t need me or anyone to tell you how delicious this is. The flavor and texture are out of this world.”
He gave her a smile she’d never seen before, as if her opinion truly mattered to him. For a moment she caught a glimpse of the little boy he once was who would have been so anxious to please his grandparents.
“Now drink a little wine, then try the rice.”
Prepared to do anything for him, she obeyed his command.
“The sauce-it’s pure ambrosia, as my aunt would say. That was her favorite word for food too good to be true. Wouldn’t you know it has a Greek origin?”
“That’s right. Food for the gods.”
“Yours tastes like that, Alex. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to enjoy it the way I want.”
He threw back his head and laughed while she proceeded to eat everything in sight.
“You eat too fast,” he observed when she finally put down her fork with a sigh of contentment.
“I couldn’t help it. It was your fault. Oh, Alex-I don’t care if you believe me or not. That was the best meal I’ve ever eaten in my life. You know what I think?”
One black brow quirked.
“When people call in for reservations, you should tell them not to eat or drink anything at least six hours before arriving. That way they’ll feel just like I do.”
“And how is that?”
“Like there’s not one thing wrong with my world right this minute. Did I ever tell you about this book I read called
“I’m sure I would have remembered if you had,” he teased.
She flushed. “That goes without saying, doesn’t it?” After a pause, “It was a mystery. This wealthy, dysfunctional family advertised for a cook. There was a feisty grandfather, an ambitious father, a twenty-four-year- old slaggard son, and a twenty-year-old selfish daughter all living under the same roof.”
“Nice.”
She chuckled. “The cook was after the family money. He got to know each member very well, and catered to their needs by fixing them the kind of food they adored.
“One by one he had them eating out of his hand, so to speak. They’d do anything for him. It got to the point where they couldn’t live without him. He solved their problems, suggested what they should or should not do, the friends they should keep, the friends they should get rid of.
“In time he ran the whole house and eventually controlled the purse strings. Everyone trusted him. In the end the old man left everything to him in his will.
