Spicing Up Trouble: a romantic comedy (16 page)

"Make her cry again, Cobb, and you'll have to learn to paint with your eyelashes. I'll have everything else hacked off." She opened the door and paused. "And I do mean everything."

She slammed the door behind her.

"I bet she would use a rusty saw too." He knelt before me.

"Is there any other kind?" I asked.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." He took my hands and kissed them.

"I cry when I'm happy, sad, and everything in between." I waved off his concern.

"I pick only happy crying from now on. About my mom's museum, it's a huge undertaking. I would like you to put together a preliminary plan. I've decided to only meet with the board next week."

"Ben, I have no idea where to start."

"This makes you the perfect choice, no preconceived notions. You're open to fresh ideas. I want it to be something no one has ever seen or imagined before."

"Don't set the bar too high. I'm in over my head already."

"You're wonderful. Alexia, I believe in you."

The tears brimmed and threatened to spill down my cheeks. Confidence in my abilities, trust in my care, dream lover in the flesh, where had he been all my life?

I kissed him, sealing myself to him, pledging my allegiance, and officially falling in love with him.

"Go home, pack up, and move in upstairs with me. It will make work, modeling, and museum planning easier. Unless you'd rather not, but that would make me cry."

"To spare your tender feelings, I'd like to live with you," I said.

*   *   *

Fifteen minutes later and a bit disheveled, we opened the door. Eleanor waited there with her arms folded across her chest. Her frown stopped me in my tracks, but she didn't scare him. He took her hand.

"Dearest Eleanor, I'm attending a gallery opening and need a stunning lady on my arm. A woman who loves free publicity, plunging necklines, and ice-cold champagne. Interested?" he asked.

"Are you planning on dating all the Hale women?" Eleanor asked.

"If I didn't bleed, was ambidextrous, and trained in martial arts, I would consider it. For now, I need the press to cool things between me and Alexia. Give her some breathing space. I'm offering them a new prey and you, the spotlight. Are you game?"

A slow smile grew on Eleanor's know-it-all face.

"Wait one minute, you just told me you couldn't live without me," I said to Ben.

"All true," he said.

"Sweetie, the big bad wolf is right. A few months of fun might do you some good. Take his money for a ride, then write a steamy tell all, and live off the royalties," Eleanor said.

"I give up. As soon as you two figure out my life, call me." I headed for the exit.

Neither of them followed me.

I caught a cab back to my condo. I opened the door and examined this gorgeous home, room by room. Was I ready to take the next step? I'd never lived with a guy before, but Ben wasn't just some guy. He could be the guy. Relationships exact a price. In my case, meeting Ben had cost my privacy, my reputation, my job, and my apartment. Was my heart next? I decided he was worth the risk. This 'better to give than to receive' business only worked for Santa Claus, who got all the cookies and hot chocolate.

I dragged my belongings to Ben's door, put my key in the lock, and hauled myself in. Not to pick on St. Nick, but I'd lost five pounds lugging my sacks around. I bet he made the elves do everything and only showed up on picture day.

I sat down on the living room floor, called a local restaurant, and ordered a large "garbage" pizza, heavy on the giardiniera.

I ate the entire pizza, settled my stuff into the spare bedroom, and fixed a light dinner of hoisin chicken stirfry for Ben.

"I smell garlic, sausage, and oregano," he said as he paraded into the house.

"Guilty of fast food eating in your home, but I made you something healthy," I said.

"You don't have to wait on me while you're here, but feeding me is mandatory." He went to his bedroom to change.

I dished up the food on a plate and poured him a glass of wine. He came in and smiled.

"I could get used to this. My mom did so many things well except cook. After a kitchen fire on their honeymoon, my dad hired a cook." He sat and filled his fork.

"Flames happen. Luckily, your dad could afford help. My mom stuck to basic recipes. Every day had an assigned food. Sometimes the baked potatoes blew up in the oven. Other times pots boiled over on the stove, and the inevitable burned fingers."

"This is delicious. How old were you when you started cooking?" He continued to eat.

"Eight, I baked a birthday cake for my dad. By ten, I became the family chef. Mom was thrilled, and everyone else was relieved."

"Excellent choice." He scraped his plate clean. "Is there more?"

I stood, brought the pan over, and scooped out the rest.

My phone rang, and I left the table to answer it.

"Hi, Eleanor."

"Sweetie, are you all settled in his place?"

"I guess. Some of my things are still in my apartment." I especially missed my worn and true kitchen utensils.

"Not to worry, the piranhas will find somewhere else to feed." Eleanor always made me feel better.

"Are you going with him to the gallery?" I asked.

"Of course, he is the ultimate gift horse. You'll be there, too, in the shadows."

"Is that his idea or yours?"

"No need for jealousy. He only has eyes for you. Grab it and savor it, love," she said as she hung up.

"Eleanor or Irene?" he asked over the running water in the kitchen.

I peered in and watched him do the dishes. He got sexier by the minute.

"Eleanor told me I'm going to the gallery opening too." I moseyed into the living room and sat on the couch.

"If you don't mind, it's for a friend's fundraiser. He needs money for his son's kidney transplant operation, and wants the cash in place while they wait for a suitable organ donor." He dried his hands and turned off the kitchen light.

"How old is his son?" I asked as he snuggled next to me on the couch.

"Thirty, married with two little girls. I could give him the money, but his pride is in the way."

"What's it like to do anything you want?"

"When I can. I'll let you know. Money helps, but it's not a cure all."

Sure looked like one from the outside.

He kissed the top of my head and worked his way down to my mouth. I counted ten smooches and begged for more. Luckily, he was in a very giving mood.

In the morning, I washed up, dressed, and opened the door to the outside hall. A huge wrapped box sat on the carpeting. An envelope with my name on it was attached with a gold bow. I lifted off the card and opened it.

"You owe me a flaming vampire or a rhubarb pie or a scarecrow soufflé."

No signature, but I knew who sent it.

My phone rang as I dragged the box into the condo. Must be sister number two fishing for details.

"Hi, Irene, Ben left a present for me," I said to her frowning face. "Isn't it early for you to call?"

"You look lovely too. If present is a euphemism for sex, its tacky"

"I thought package meant sex?"

"Sweetie, to men every word means sex. Best to leave conversation with them to grunts, hand gestures, and head nods, which are still interpreted as sexual invitations."

"Irene, you need to get out of the bar more. Ben left me a wrapped box and a card." I turned the phone to show her.

"He's a hunter, and make sure you don't mind being gathered."

"It's heavy," I said as I began to rip the paper.

"Wouldn't it be great if it was packed with money or jewelry?"

"I don't think Ben moonlights as a pirate, but it would explain his wealth and ruthless profile."

As the gift revealed itself, I grinned and showed her.

"Pots and pans? Are we living in a 1950s' sitcom? At the very least a tasteful pearl necklace better be under one of the lids," she said.

"It's a Linden bakeware set." I reverently unsealed the box.

"Alexia, this is embarrassing. Stop fawning. Next, he'll give you a plastic bowl tower."

I tuned her out and hugged my new cookie sheets. The way to a man's heart threaded through his stomach. To a woman's heart, understand all her desires and feed all of her passions. I was a cook, cast adrift without a well-stocked kitchen. I wondered if I could sneak home, whip up a couple dozen…

"Alexia, are you listening? Benjamin Nance Cobb is on the phone. I can hear the answering machine."

I set down my cell phone and skipped to the office.

"Hi Ben, thank you for the bakeware." I grabbed the receiver before he hung up.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it. Your apartment is still off limits. My kitchen doubles as a decoration, but you're welcome to it."

"I need time to think of the appropriate dish for you. I'll let you know when I decide. I left Irene hanging on my cell phone. Thanks again," I said as I hung up.

I strolled back into the living room and heard Irene's voice.

"Smooth, handled brilliantly, drop some crumbs and make him beg. I love it. I've underestimated you, baby sister."

In there somewhere lurked a compliment. I picked up my phone and daydreamed as Irene listed strategies to hook Ben. In frustration, she hung up. News flash, I didn't need any tricks. He liked me for myself. Now to bake.

*   *   *

I took a cab to Eleanor's shop to search for a disguise. I had to bake on my home turf. My measuring spoons and cups had my well-worn groove on the handles. To get into my apartment, I couldn't look like me.

I waved at Eleanor as she advised an older woman on the proper color to complement her hair, which was a silvery blue. Swatches covered a counter as Eleanor selected a deep red. In the storeroom, a few boxes were shoved up against the back wall. After lifting the covers, I found the ultimate mask.

Wigs.

I selected a short black one, added a pair of sunglasses, and an oversized shirt with leggings from her stashes. I changed my clothes and added makeup as my head itched. I didn't care anymore. I wanted to go home. I had selected a muffin pan to go with the cookie sheets in my canvas bag. After shoving everything in it, I stepped out of a dressing room, passed Eleanor, who mouthed 'what the…' at me. I smiled and blew her a kiss. On the curb I hailed another cab. Incognito was not my usual style, but for the time being, I had no choice.

I exited the cab at the corner of my block. Sporting Eleanor's designer shades, I strutted down the sidewalk to my building. A few photographers lingered across the street. Thankfully, they were all men. A woman would have seen through my disguise. Leggings, in this heat? About time I took matters into my own hands. Too bad I couldn't channel some of my sisters' cockiness. I'd cross the street and speak to them. Instead, I kept my head down and went to the door. Once inside, I exhaled. Good to be home in my natural habitat.

After taking the stairs, I hurried to my apartment. I should knock on every door and apologize for the inconvenience, but I didn't want anyone to alert the pack outside. A bounty had been placed on my head.

I opened the door to my apartment, fell to my knees, and kissed the floor. My sanctuary: no sisters, no camera flashes, no sound but my beating heart. I got up and closed the door. I had set myself up for a classic Internet moment with my butt in the air, eating carpet fuzz. I threw the wig on a chair and hustled to my welcoming kitchen. Dusty, but ready to serve me. I changed into an old T-shirt and baggy shorts. Hair piled on my head, I arranged my ingredients on the counter.

The light on my answering machine winked at me. I pushed the button and was informed I had fifty-two new messages. One more thing, my phone sat on the counter, unplugged from the wall. A Post-it on the fridge informed me Mark had done it. If it rang all hours, I really needed to apologize to the neighbors. As I reattached it, the phone buzzed. I checked the display.

"Hi," I said.

"Eleanor called to tell me you snuck out of her shop dressed like a confused waif," Irene said.

"I don't look that bad," I said as I looked in the magnet mirror on the fridge. "I looked worse."

The makeup streaked with my sweat and the leggings' dye stained my thighs.

"At least, you can clean up there. I tried your cell, but it must be dead. You have to remember to charge it," Irene said.

"I know, but it's never convenient. They need to make a phone like the landline model. Flick it on and forget it."

"I'll pass your suggestion along. Are the vermin still outside?"

"Yes, but I snuck by."

"Good for you. Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm going to bake and regain my sanity."

"Fantastic, I'll take a few dozen of everything."

"For Ben."

"Some guy shows up, and you forget your flesh and blood."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Good answer. Now you need an escape plan. Let me know if I can help," she said as she hung up.

Oh yeah, wonder if Mark was busy.

I put the receiver back, and it rang again. It came up as 'unknown number' on the caller ID. I unplugged the phone. They will not steal my home or my cupcakes. After finding the charger, I put my cell phone on it.

Now, to the business at hand—prepare pumpkin muffins and sugar cookies. I rubbed my hands together. Inner peace came back to me. All I needed was to cover myself with a little sugar, a cup of flour, and a ton of butter.

A few hours later, I had baskets made up. I checked to see if the street had cleared. No one loitered. I packed up the goodies, left some at my neighbors' doors with "I'm sorry" cards, and went out the back door sans wig. Down the alley, I caught a cab.

I arrived at Ben's building and saw Travis sitting at the front desk.

"Hi Alexia. You just missed Mr. Cobb," he said as I stepped in the lobby.

"I wanted to drop this off for you and your staff." I put a crushed basket with two plastic bags of cookies in it on the desk. "I was at my apartment and decided to bake."

"Thank you very much."

I left to run to the grocery store to grab more flour, then hurry back to my apartment, and start a pumpkin pie and more cookies for Ben.