Bootscootin' Blahniks (40 page)

“I wasn’t aware of a wedding planner,” Jules said not sure if the Tennessee sun was making its final stand of the day or if her nerves were shooting fire. “Cody, would you go ahead and set these tables while I top the berry pudding with the crème fraiche? I have service for twelve so we’ll have to work with that.”

Cody, reading and echoing her dread in his distressed gaze, offered a supportive smile and got to work.

“Did I hear my title being flittered about?”

Jules spun in the direction of the ego-marinated voice she’d never been able to block from the darkest well of her subconscious.

Jacques Marentino. The former Dean of Pastry Arts at her alma mater, now a wedding planner. Jacques Marentino…as in Mr. I’m Too Busy Sticking My Toothpick in My Students’ Ovens To Teach Culinary Arts.

Jules re-tightened her grip around the candlesticks, surmising an even better use for them. Opening and closing her fingers against the sun-warmed silver, she squeezed the life out of the sticks as if they were lemons instead of chunks of metal, visualizing Jacques’ head as the unfortunate fruit.

Jacques walked the distance between them as if he were sauntering a runway to the flashes of the blinding bulbs of his favorite critics.

Wrong reality show, Jules thought. He’s not a potential candidate for America’s Next Top Model. He’s the next Gordon Ramsey of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Jules, how wonderful to be working with you again,” Jacques said, smiling big, bold, and brash like the cover-worthy playboy he thought he was.

“I’m thrilled, Jacques. Simply thrilled.” Jules met the challenge in his voice with her sweet-as-sugar-cream-pie, don’t-fuck-with-me serenade. “I wasn’t aware Mrs. Cruz hired a wedding planner.”

“So sorry for the slip in communication. Maureen saw my Food Network debut and had to have me.” His snow white veneers sparkled like South African diamonds…brilliant, beautiful and deadly if obtained.

Two weasels and a wedding had Jules worried, her confidence a wee bit wilted, her wishes for Sweet Destiny’s success wallowing in a well of bewilderment. But she was hell-bent on beating these wacky odds.

A surge of confidence swelled and stirred her soul from the chance to go up against Jacques. “Diesel, I need you to show me to the kitchen. And Cody, if you’ll come with me, I need some help with the pudding.”

Jacques may have made hell of her days at the French Culinary Institute in New York City, but she’d made a fantastic new life in Nashville. With Sweet Destiny’s launch ahead of her and the support of Cody and the rest of her friends, Jacques would work by her rules this time. It was his turn to squirm.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Jacques sidled up alongside Cody.

Sensing the competition in the air for testosterone supremacy, Jules stepped between the two men, using her body as the unfortunate conduit of their mating dance.

“Jacques, this is Cody…my partner,” Jules said in a playfully evasive tone, dangling alternative interpretations for Jacques to decode as to what kind of partner she was insinuating.

“You’re a lucky man.” Jacques shook Cody’s hand. Leaning into him as if they were sidekicks in some great conspiratorial adventure, he continued, “Just don’t take it personal when she abandons you in favor of her next hot dish.”

“Funny how two people’s recollections of the same situation can be vastly different.” Jules draped her arms on Cody’s shoulder and brushed her lips against his cheek.

Feeling Cody’s body jolt from her unexpected touch, she searched his eyes, begging him to play along with her charade.

Cody raised his eyebrows then shrugged his shoulders as if to say what the hell then turned his attention back to Jacques.

“Jules tells me she’s never had it so good,” he said, patting Jacques’s shoulder. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“We’ll see.” Jacques tossed his head back until his Matthew Mcconaughey, surf-boy locks fell into a GQ-perfect, disheveled mop. “This is going to be some kind of job.”

“Speaking of the job,” Jules said, feeling way too hot under the collar of her coat to remain idle, “it’s time we head for the kitchen.”

“You two go on. I’ll finish up out here.” Jacques flicked his hand as if to shoo them away in the same manner he would pesky, winged creatures.

“Jacques, that won’t–”

“Jules, trust me, I want to get paid in the end of all this too. I have my own stellar reputation to uphold. I’m not going to screw with you…well, not in regards to the Cruz events.”

“Forgive me for learning my lesson where trusting you is concerned.” Jules reached for Cody’s hand and left Jacques staring after them.

Too young for hot flashes but ripe for anxiety attacks, Jules fanned her arms and hands in front of her face. Beckoning a cold current to cool her heated cheeks, she marched into the Cruz’s kitchen. Giving up on regulating her own body temperature, she opened the freezer door and stuck her head inside. The icy blast ricocheted off her brow bone, damn near knocking her to the floor.

Bad idea
.

She reached for the counter and held onto the air-conditioned chilled granite until her skull recovered from the subzero shock of the freezer and learning she’d be working with Jacques.

“So I take it we have more to worry about than my past with Sienna?” Cody topped the pudding with cream.

“Looks that way,” Jules said, unsure what or how much about her and Jacques’ history she was ready to divulge.

“You know I don’t believe what he said about you.” Cody finished the last dessert cup then turned her to face him.

“Thank you for that. Love ‘em and leave ‘em isn’t my thing.” She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a dish towel, sure the moisture was frost melting from her battle with the freezer and not the start of a misplaced tear.

“This job is going to be no picnic, Cody,” she said, sorry she’d drug him into the storm brewing. “I’ll no longer hold it against you if you’re ready to run.”

“Contraire, JuJu Bee.” Cody tipped his hat. “If I couldn’t take the heat, I wouldn’t have agreed to share your kitchen…again.”

“Okay, Cowboy.” Jules sniffled back her reservations, letting Cody’s support bolster her spirit. “Let’s see what we’re made of.”