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Authors: Kristen Painter

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BOOK: The Perfect Dish
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He was not falling in love. With Mery or anyone. Not now. Not ever. Love led to marriage and marriage led to heartache. If his mother’s life wasn’t proof enough of that, Mery’s sure was.

The elevator arrived and he got on, frowning as the doors slid shut and cut off his view of Mery’s apartment.

Yeah, that’s right. Think about her dead husbands, may they rest in peace. Marriage certainly hadn’t worked out so hot for them.

Then why was he jealous of two dead men he hadn’t even known?

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

“Celia, slow down. I don’t understand. What pictures in what paper?” Meredith stretched out in bed with the phone to her ear and rubbed her eyes. She had no idea the uber wealthy got up so early.

“Pictures of you and Kelly. They’re in the Daily Post.”

Meredith turned over onto her side and tried to clear the fog from her head. “Pictures?”

Celia’s grin came through loud and clear. “You went to the park with him yesterday, didn’t you? Had a picnic on the grass? Did some more kissing? Ended up on a bench with your legs across his lap?”

That woke her up. “How do you know all that?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There are pictures of you two in the paper. They call you...well, they don’t know who you are. He’s the only one named. Eventually they’ll figure out who you are and then your problems are solved!”

“I hadn’t expected this to happen quite so soon.” She couldn’t recall seeing anyone with a camera. “What paper did you say they were in?”

“The Daily Post.”

“I’m going to run down to the newsstand and see for myself. Thanks, Celia. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure thing, Mer.”

Meredith hung up. So it had begun. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Of course, if they didn’t know who she was the pictures didn’t do her any good. She threw on jeans and a sweater, tucked her hair into one of Jason’s baseball caps, grabbed her purse and headed out.

The gray morning fit perfectly with her mood. She trekked to the corner newsstand and pulled a Daily Post from its slot. She flipped through, looking for the pictures Celia was talking about.

She stopped flipping the moment she saw them. Pictures of Kelly kissing her. Of them laughing together. Her stomach went queasy. She hadn’t counted on feeling so exposed. So violated. The page blurred for a moment and then her eyes refocused on the headline. “Cowboy Rides Again.”

How dare they imply such trash? What if her father saw this?

She skimmed the column, skidding to a halt at the first mention of herself. Randy older woman? Randy? They had to be kidding.

Temper flared along her spine. Her hands shook with indignant anger. Oh. Oh. No. This would not do. She was a respectable woman, not some flash in Kelly’s pan.

“Lady, you wanna read the paper for free, they got libraries for that.” The man behind the newsstand wiped a beefy hand across his nose.

She snatched every copy displayed. “How much for all of them?”

He narrowed his eyes and stabbed his finger into the air, counting the stack. “Twelve fifty.”

She dug in her purse, threw the money on the counter and walked away, hugging the papers to her chest. The next trashcan she came to, she dumped every copy but one.

She needed to speak to Kelly. This had to come to an end. Immediately.

* * *

The sharp slap of leather against leather cracked the air as Kelly’s glove connected with the bag. Mick shook his head. “You’re still seeing her, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”
Smack
. “What about it?”
Smack. Smack.

“You’re still wound up, that’s what.” Mick grinned. “You close the deal yet?”

Kelly stood up. “Who I sleep with is none of your business.” Sweat trickled down his back.

Mick rolled his eyes. “This from the man who text-messaged me the bra size of his last date.”

“Not my last date. The one before Mery.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “You should bring her to the exhibit Saturday. Chicks dig art.”

Kelly bent back into fight stance. “You know Saturday’s a busy night for me.”
Smack
.

“Take a freakin’ Saturday off once in awhile, would you? You haven’t been to a single showing since I opened.” Mick grunted as Kelly hit the bag hard.

He shook his head. “That’s not true. I went to the first one.”

“But not one since,” Mick said.

“Really?” Kelly paused. “Damn. I haven’t, have I?”

“Nope.” Mick looked as hurt as an ex-Seal could.

Kelly rolled his head from side to side and jogged in place. “I’ll talk to JP, see if he’s ready for a Saturday alone. Mery would probably like the art thing.”

As they headed into the locker room, Kelly heard his phone beeping.

“Somebody’s hot for you.” Mick smirked. “Can’t imagine why.”

“Ask your mom. She’ll tell you.” Kelly winked.

Mick snapped his towel in Kelly’s direction. “Punk.”

Laughing, Kelly checked his phone. Three missed calls. Three new voicemails. Two from Mery, one from his agent.

News from his agent. An answer maybe. Anticipation galloped through him. But five minutes wouldn’t turn a no into a yes. He scrolled to Mery’s number and hit send.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, gorgeou—”

“Have you seen the paper this morning?” Steel edged her voice.

“Not yet, why?” In the back of his mind, he had an idea what was up.

“There are pictures of us. In the park.
Kissing
.” The last word came out in hiss.

Sighing, he rubbed his shoulder and leaned against the lockers. Definitely should have warned her. “Yeah, that happens sometimes. The Daily Post, right? It’s no big deal, just a picture here or there.”

Over by the sink, Mick shook his head.

“No big deal? I’m sorry but this isn’t my idea of great press. I’m going to call them up and give them a piece of my mind.”

“Won’t get you anywhere. There’s nothing you can do to stop them unless they threaten your person. I know it sucks, baby, but that’s the joy of living in a free country.”

Standing in front of the mirror, Mick rocked his cradled arms back and forth and made kissy lips.

Kelly rolled his eyes and mouthed, “Bite me” in his friend’s direction.
Baby
. He smiled at the term of endearment and wondered what she thought of it.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” Not much, apparently. “You haven’t seen it. Do you know what the headline reads?
Cowboy rides again.
That implies that we’re...” She growled something that sounded like a cuss word, “
doing
it.”

Although Mick had already disappeared into the showers, Kelly lowered his voice. “Actually, it implies that I’m doing you.” He wanted to laugh but thought better of it. They had come close yesterday. He didn’t want to ruin his chances for the future. Thinking about Mery had become his brain’s favorite pastime. He craved the woman so much it almost scared him. Almost.

Her breathing sharpened. “I don’t find you or these pictures amusing. Perhaps you should look for a woman who does.”

“Mery—” Too late. She’d hung up.

He huffed out a breath. Women. If they weren’t proof God had a sense of humor, he didn’t know what was. He called her back.

“Hello?”

“Hanging up on someone is a pretty childish thing to do, don’t you think?” Turnabout was fair play. And he loved stirring her up.

“Maybe.” Silence for a moment. “I’m sorry. It was a rude thing to do. But I’m upset about this. I feel like my privacy’s been violated.”

“It has. And I agree, it’s a low-down, no account way to treat people, but it’s part of my life.” And a part she’d have to accept if she was going to keep seeing him. He hoped she was okay with that, because he really liked having her around.

She sighed resignedly. “There’s nothing that can be done about it?”

He took that to mean she’d put up with the press. “Nope.”

“Well, I think it’s appalling.”

“I’m sorry your name was dragged into this, Mery. I really am.”

More silence. “They didn’t exactly use my name.”

“What did they call you then?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“I can buy the paper and read it for myself, you know.”

She mumbled something.

“What?”

“Randy older woman.”

Kelly bit his cheek to keep from laughing. “Sounds about right.”

“What?”

“Well, you are older and I think randy pretty much describes the—”

“Stop right now or I’ll hang up on you again.”

He closed his eyes and remembered her smooth skin under her fingers and how hungrily she’d returned his kiss. “You want me just as much as I want you. Don’t deny it. I was on that couch too Sunday afternoon.”

The breathing coming through the phone sounded like panting. “Randy is an indecent word.”

“So is the way you look in jeans. Meet me for lunch. I can’t wait ‘til Thursday.”

“You just want to make out in your office.” Her smile came through loud and clear.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He grinned with the sheer pleasure of bantering with her. Life with this woman would be very interesting indeed.

She cleared her throat. “I think what you need is some discipline.”

The teasing promise in her voice sent a tremor through his groin. “Like what? A spanking?” Damn, the idea was more erotic than odd when he imagined Mery on the other end of the paddle. Sweat trailed down the small of his back.

“I’ll take it under advisement. I better go. Things to do and all that.”

“Like getting ready to meet me for lunch?” Not that he was thinking about food.

“No. Like actual work. I can’t do lunch today.”

He frowned. “You’re turning me down?”

“You’ll live. Talk to you later.”

He hung up and growled at the phone. She did not play fair. Wicked woman.

He returned the call from his agent. “Hey Marty. What’s up? Did they give you an answer?”

“Not yet but the studio loves the sales numbers on the cookbook. I just called to give you a heads up. It could happen anytime.”

“Okay, thanks. Good to know.” He disconnected the call and tucked the phone back in the locker. Life was taking some very interesting turns at the moment. And all for the better. Which meant it was only a matter of time before the other boot came crashing down.

* * *

Mery placed one of the Chanel ballet flats back into the box. “I’ll take them,” she said to the clerk.

“Very good, ma’am.” The girl slipped the shoes back into their dust bags and packed them into the box.

Celia nodded approvingly. “Trés chic and so classic. Lizza would adore them.”

“She should for that kind of cash.”

“Ma’am, if you’d like to give me your credit card I can start ringing these up,” the clerk said. The girl didn’t look more than twenty or twenty-one. Her well-worn black suit had clearly not come from the store she worked in.

“Of course. Thank you.” Mery handed her credit card to the girl then leaned back to Celia. “Thanks again for meeting me for lunch. I needed the advice of an expert.”

“The press isn’t that bad, you just have to expect it. Like I said, if you’re going out without hair and makeup, you can’t complain when they show you looking like a hag.”

“I can’t see myself going out with Kelly without being made up.” She slipped her own shoes back on, then she and Celia walked to the counter.

“Invest in some smart hats and sunglasses, too,” Celia said.

Mery laughed as she signed the receipt. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Do you plan to keep seeing him?”

She handed the pen back to the clerk. “So far, yes.”

Celia shook her head. “Then the press isn’t going to stop seeing you two, either. They’re going to keep after you, at least until they find out your name.” Her delicately arched brows rose, disappearing beneath her bangs. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Here’s your copy and thank you...” the clerk glanced at Meredith curiously then read her credit card before handing it back, “Mrs. Black, for shopping at Saks today.”

“Dr. Black,” Meredith corrected. She accepted the receipt and credit card, tucked them in her purse and picked up the shopping bag. “It’s more what my publicist wanted...”

Celia slanted her head toward the clerk and gave Meredith a you-never-know-who’s-listening sort of look.

Sliding the shopping bag a little further down her arm, Meredith shook her head. “You make this seem so cloak and dagger.”

“Mark my words,” Celia said. “This is only the beginning.”

 

Chapter Twenty

 

On the way to Tuesday’s lunch date with Shelby, Meredith scrunched down in the cab. If the press wanted pictures today, all they would get was the top of her head.

She jumped out of the cab, yanked open the door to Sedona and slipped inside. She exhaled a righteous sigh. Safe.

Only a few patrons made up the early lunch crowd. Besides Shelby at her usual table doing paperwork, the bar was empty. She glanced up as Meredith walked in. A subtle smile appeared and disappeared as quickly as it had shown up.

“What?” Meredith asked.

“Nothing,” Shelby said. “I didn’t realize the witness protection program had a new spring line out.”

Meredith pulled off her sunglasses and baby blue ball cap and shook out her hair. “You and Kelly must have studied at the same comedy school.”

She smiled. “I saw the pictures. They’re not so bad.”

Meredith tucked the hat and glasses into her bag. She took the other chair at the table. “They’re an invasion of my privacy.” She hadn’t anticipated feeling that way.

After a sip of water, Shelby shrugged. “Kelly’s been dealing with it since he opened Gauchos and Manhattan Today named him one of the city’s ‘Top Ten Bachelors To Watch’. You date him, you deal with the press.”

“So I’m learning. How are you doing?”

“Good, I guess.” Shelby tapped her pencil on the table. “I finished your book. Still working on the life assessment worksheets. It’s hard to think about stuff like that when the best part of your life is missing.”

“I understand. But at some point, you have to make a conscious effort to move in a more positive direction. Life doesn’t stop just because you’re at a standstill.”

BOOK: The Perfect Dish
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