Sweet Seduction (28 page)

Charlie sat at the kitchen table sipping her tea. Her head hurt, but the dull thud paled in comparison to her excruciating embarrassment.

She played the previous night over again in her head. Having dinner with Gabe was pretty clear, but the time between leaving the club and waking this morning was . . . blurry.

Well, more than blurry.

Of particular concern was that she’d woken up naked except for her knickers and stockings. Thank goodness she’d left a few things behind at Gabe’s. How humiliating would it be eating breakfast in a slinky black party dress?

She hung her head in her hands and stared into her nearly empty tea cup. A shame tea leaves were only useful for telling the future. She’d give anything to have a clear picture of the past few hours.

The memory of throwing her arms about Gabe’s neck at the front door jumped into her mind. Her heart picked up pace and she winced. Had she tried to kiss him and been rejected?

She shuddered. Mortification washed over her.

‘Didn’t expect to see you up this early.’

She knocked over her mug. Heat rushed her cheeks as she leapt up and grabbed a cloth. She desperately wanted to read Gabe’s expression but couldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Eggs and bacon?’ she asked.

‘Sounds great.’

She busied herself making breakfast, keeping her back to him as much as possible.

‘Charlie.’

‘Hmm?’ she said.

‘Look at me.’

Her heart quickened in her chest. Taking a deep breath, she turned slowly and met his gaze.

‘Everything okay?’ His eyes were suffused with concern.

‘Fine. Fine,’ she said lightly. But her head pounded, more from humiliation than alcohol consumption. Well, maybe a bit of both. Gabe liked poached eggs, but her hands shook so much they’d be scrambled today.

‘It’s just that last night you were talking about Australia and secrets. To be honest, you weren’t making much sense. Anything you want to talk about?’

‘I’m sorry. I had too much to drink and—’A blob of bacon fat splattered onto her arm. ‘Ouch,’ she cried and dropped the spatula. Rushing to the sink, she ran cold water over the burn.

Gabe leapt from the table and stood next to her. ‘Are you burnt?’

‘I’m fine. It isn’t much.’ She pulled her arm from under the water. A nasty welt already glowed red just above her wrist.

‘No, keep it there,’ Gabe said, pressing her arm into the cold stream again.

Charlie tried to focus on the water and not think about Gabe’s fingers on her skin. He touched her arm lightly.

‘I think that’s going to blister.’

It was such a simple act, but his light touch thrilled her to her core. She closed her eyes and imagined Gabe caressing her in other places. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed.

‘Damn, is that the time?’ Gabe said, looking at his watch. ‘Keep your arm there for at least ten minutes,’ he said, giving her hand a little squeeze. ‘Sorry about breakfast, I’ve got to run.’

He hesitated, leaned towards her then pulled back quickly. ‘See you in a few weeks. I’ll call.’

‘Ah yeah. Good luck with the rest of the finals,’ she said lightly but she felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach. How could she handle nearly a month without Gabe?

Charlie stared at the door for a long time. The sting of the burn began to subside, but the fire in her heart raged.

Finally the day dawned for filming the first episode. Charlie followed Abigail down the long hallway towards the set. She glanced at the other nine contestants. It was the first time they’d all come together; everyone looked nervous and excited. The thought of being filmed filled her with apprehension, and seeing Gabe again for the first time in weeks exacerbated her fears. He’d arrived back a few days ago, but had been working eighteen hours a day to prepare for the start of filming.

Abigail paused when she reached the enormous studio door.

‘Things are a little different from the last time you were here,’ she said to the group. ‘To begin with, we have a studio audience and this time we are filming the real thing. All the footage shot today will be edited into the first episode of the show.’

A low murmur spread through the group.

‘As you know, you have to produce ten portions of each of your dishes. These will then be packaged and shipped straight to an international flight by our sponsor airline. Your meals will be consumed in the first-class cabin. Along with our three judges, VIP passengers will also judge your food.’

Charlie took a deep breath to soothe her growing nerves.

‘We’ll be filming the moment I open this door. So, when you walk in, go straight to your chosen workstation. Then be guided by Jasper and the other judges.’

She looked around the group and smiled. ‘Everybody ready?’

Charlie nodded but felt anything but ready. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her cheeks were sure to be as crimson as a vine-ripened tomato.

The door opened and applause pulsed through the studio. Charlie walked onto the set, trying to project an air of confidence. She chose a work area towards the back of the room and surveyed the set. There must be more than a hundred people in the audience.

The show’s theme music played as Jasper walked onto the set. He acknowledged the audience’s enthusiasm and asked for quiet.

‘Welcome, everyone, to the first episode of
First-Class Chef
.’

Jasper’s words blurred as Charlie began to panic.

Where’s Gabe? I need my lucky charm.

She looked wildly around the studio. Then she noticed a glassed area behind the studio audience. Gabe sat at a control panel. He spoke into a head mike and watched Jasper. A bolt of molten desire shot straight to her core. She couldn’t breathe. She fingered her Leaning Tower of Pisa charm.

Look at me. Please. Look at me.

Gabe caught her eye. He sent her a dazzling smile and signed the thumbs up.

Jasper’s words came back into focus, clear and articulate. ‘. . . from every background from butcher to banker to catering assistant. None of our contestants has any formal training and each will compete week after week until we crown Britain’s first winner of
First-Class Chef – 
the show that combines food and flying like never before.’

Wild applause. When it died away, Gabe’s voice broke over the set.

‘Cut. Fantastic. Jasper, let’s move now to introducing each of the contestants.’

Gabe’s authority calmed her. Instead of watching Jasper, Charlie kept her eyes focused on Gabe. Although she couldn’t hear him unless he used his mike, it was obvious nothing happened on set that Gabe didn’t direct. Gabe spoke and everybody obeyed.

Jasper made his way around the room. Every contestant told a warm or heart-wrenching story.

As the stories unfolded, Charlie’s guilt settled more and more heavily on her shoulders. She shifted uncomfortably behind her station. One guy had held a fundraiser at the local pub to afford the train fare and accommodation in London to compete in the finals. A single mother had her seventy-year-old mother watching her three young children. The middle-aged guy with a career in IT had quit his job to be part of the show as his employer wouldn’t give him the time off to participate.

And what was she? A spoilt little rich girl who’d run away from home and lied about her identity.

She swallowed hard. She didn’t deserve to be here. She’d deceived everyone. Panic raced through her body and her legs threatened to give way beneath her.

Jasper wrapped up his interview with the contestant next to her.

She braced as he came towards her. She had to get out of here.

‘Ready, Charlie?’

She nodded but no words came. She looked wildly at the control room. Gabe and Abigail were huddled over something. Gabe would hate her, despise her.

Fraud. Fraud. Fraud.
The word screamed through her brain.

‘Charlie Brown, welcome to the show.’

Polite applause filtered from the audience.

‘Tell us a little about yourself.’

‘Um. I . . .’Her mouth dried to parchment.

I got sick of my privileged life and decided to try slumming it?

She tried again. ‘I’m . . .’

. . . so rich I could buy Donovan’s restaurant and everyone in it?

Jasper waited. ‘Yes?’

Silence stretched as only the sound of the audience shuffling in their seats punctuated the air. Even though the studio lights blazed around her, she broke into a cold sweat.

She wasn’t Charlie Brown, catering assistant from Brisbane with dreams of being a chef. She was heiress to a fortune with the ability to pay for the best cooking tuition in the world. She dropped her gaze to the bench, terrified the shame would show on her face.

‘Everything all right down there?’ Gabe called over the set intercom.

‘Just a little stage fright,’ Jasper replied.

‘Charlie,’ Gabe called, ‘could you look up here, please?’

She couldn’t.

‘Sorry,’ she said as she crumbled with shame. Blundering into the protection of the shadows, Paul’s words thundered in her mind.

You’re nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

And he was right.

Damn.

Gabe rushed down the stairs to the studio floor.

‘Charlie,’ he called. But she’d already reached the door and pulled it open. ‘Charlie. Wait.’

She disappeared from view.

He found her in the corridor, dragging air into her lungs as if she’d just broken the surface from the depths of icy water.

‘Charlie, what is it? You’re scaring me.’

‘I don’t deserve to be here,’ she said, her voice ragged.

Anguish tarnished her beautiful eyes. His heart twisted painfully.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘All those people have worked so hard and I—’

He placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Charlie, you’re here fair and square. You’ve competed just like everyone else.’

‘But you’re the director and—’

‘I took absolutely no part in the decision. None. You know that.’

He tilted her chin up. A tear escaped her eyes and slid down her cheek. He wiped it away. Her vulnerability ripped at his heart.

Abigail’s voice crackled in his ear. ‘What’s happening?’

‘Just give me a minute,’ he replied into the mike.

‘I’m ruining the show, aren’t I?’ Her eyes met his fleetingly.

‘Charlie, you take as long as you need.’

But she straightened and wiped ferociously at her eyes. ‘I’m fine.’ The expression on her face morphed to one of strength and determination.

Where was this sudden change of heart coming from? ‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely,’ she said, her voice firm and final. She pulled open the studio door, but turned back. ‘Is my make-up still all right? I don’t want to wreck your show with streaks of mascara.’

Gabe stared at her perfect, gorgeous face.

‘All good.’

Charlie disappeared through the door. Gabe stared numbly at the solid structure as it closed slowly behind her.

He frowned as he searched for a plausible explanation for Charlie’s behaviour.

The more time he spent with Charlie, the more of a mystery she became.

Charlie walked with grim determination back onto the set. When she’d created Charlie Brown, she didn’t think it would hurt anyone. It was just a flight of fancy for a few days to give herself some much-craved anonymity. A break from being a Wentworth and everything that went with it.

But Charlie Brown wasn’t just a mirage —to some people she was real. And more importantly, Charlie had responsibilities to those people.

Well, to one person in particular.

This show was Gabe’s livelihood, and here she was chucking it in his face.

Charlie Brown didn’t let people down. Charlie Brown was a better person than that, not some spoilt brat with too much money and a limited sense of responsibility.

She took her place at her workstation. The contest was at a standstill. Jasper and Abigail huddled together at the front. They, along with everyone else, stared, perplexed. The moment reminded Charlie of attending those celebrity-studded charity benefits where she had to walk the red carpet. Everyone staring. Normally she would stand behind Paul and let him manage the situation, speaking only if necessary.

‘Okay, Jasper, I’ve had my meltdown.’ Nerves tugged at her confidence but the words sounded strong and fearless. A few of the contestants and crew chuckled. ‘I’m ready now.’

From the corner of her eye, she saw Gabe return and climb back into the control box. He threw her an encouraging wave. She wouldn’t let him down.

Jasper returned to his position next to her station. His expression clouded with unease. Time to step up to the mark.

‘It’s okay. I’m fine now,’ she reassured him.

The red light of the camera flashed on.

‘Charlie Brown,’ Jasper began. ‘Tell us a little about yourself. Do you have a little dog at home called Snoopy?’

Charlie laughed. Now that she was thinking of Gabe and not herself, she knew she could face anything. A switch had been thrown and she’d deliver.

‘Sorry, Jasper, no dogs, but I do give cooking utensils names.’

A beaming smile lit Jasper’s face. ‘Really?’

‘You bet.’ She picked up a paring knife. ‘Meet Wolverine, the best little knife this side of the equator.’

Some of the audience laughed.

‘Wolverine?’

‘Yes, throw anything at it and this little guy will slice it to pieces.’

‘Sounds a touch scary.’ Jasper held up his hands in mock fear.

‘Don’t worry, Jasper, you’ll be fine. Just don’t interrupt when I’m dissecting,’ she said, picking up a carrot and waving it at him.

‘I can see you are not a cook to be messed with.’

‘You know what, Jasper? You haven’t seen anything yet.’ With every word, her confidence soared. With Gabe watching, she really believed she could do anything.

‘So what’s your pet name for this?’ Jasper asked holding up her mortar and pestle.

‘Sorry, their names are X-rated,’ she said, with a seductive smile.

Jasper’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. ‘Come on, Charlie.’

Charlie shook her head but asked Jasper to come close. She leaned and whispered the names in his ear.