Secret Ingredient: Love. Teresa Southwick

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Secret Ingredient: Love - Teresa Southwick


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you don’t want a man in your life?”

      “That’s oversimplifying.”

      “How?”

      She clasped her hands together and rested her forearms on the table. “My family is big on following in footsteps. My four brothers followed my father into the construction business. A lot like your family. The difference is yours seems to accept Rosie’s decision to be an independent businesswoman.”

      “Your family hasn’t accepted your career?”

      She shook her head. “I don’t think my father knows what to do with me. He’s never gotten over the fact that I wasn’t a boy. Plus girls can’t work construction. I was supposed to do what my mother did—marry and have babies. He wants me to find a man so he won’t have to worry about me anymore. I feel a lot like the Olympic torch, getting handed off to become someone else’s responsibility.” She sighed. “He would want me in a nunnery if he knew about the jerk in cooking school. But that’s a sad, boring story,” she said, looking as if she would like to call back those words.

      Alex laughed. “What’s wrong with allowing someone the privilege of looking after you?”

      “I’m not a responsibility. I can take care of myself. A man would quadruple the home-front workload. My career would suffer.”

      “And your career is important to you?”

      “You bet your corporate office it is. I love what I do. A good thing, since culinary school was no picnic for a woman. I didn’t go through that so I could play second fiddle to a guy and his laundry.”

      “So a job with Marchetti’s is important to you?”

      She nodded. “You said it yourself. I don’t have experience with entrées. This job would give me that and, with a little luck, put me on a course closer to my ultimate goal.”

      “Which is?”

      “A restaurant of my own.” She met his gaze. “You’re wondering why I’ve taken a detour from that.”

      “Yeah.” She’d read his mind. He hoped she couldn’t read the rest of his thoughts as easily. Or she would know how interested he was in her mouth and how it would feel and taste. He forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying.

      “I’m sure you’re aware that there’s a certain prejudice against women in this business.”

      “I’ve seen some,” he admitted.

      “School was tough, but I was naive and thought when I finished it would be behind me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a position I wanted in the restaurant field. When I was offered a consulting job, I took it, even though it veered away from my objective.”

      “So you want me to hire and train my competition?”

      She laughed. “When you put it like that, it wouldn’t be very smart. But realistically, my goal is quite a way down the road. And it doesn’t matter what my future plans are. You need someone now. And I’m the best person for the job.”

      “You certainly are cocky.”

      “That implies you don’t think I can do what I say.”

      He shook his head. “Let’s just call me skeptical.”

      “So give me a chance to prove myself.”

      “That’s tempting.”

      She frowned. “Let me ask you something now.”

      “Okay.”

      “Would your reluctance to hire me have anything to do with the fact that I’m a woman?”

      Yes, he admitted to himself. But not for the reason she thought. There was something about Fran. She’d made him notice her. And he didn’t want to notice any woman. But he was as dedicated to his career as she was to hers. He wasn’t going to just turn this project over to her. He intended to oversee it. That meant he would see her—a lot. What would it be like to work closely with her?

      But, as she’d pointed out, he was out of options. “No,” he lied. “The fact that you’re a woman in no way impacts my decision about whether or not to offer you the job.”

      “Then what’s the problem?”

      “You’re inexperienced. I don’t want to say no out of hand. But I’m not sure what my next step should be.”

      “I’ll cook for you,” she offered. “Let me put my money where my mouth is.”

      He’d like to put his mouth where her mouth was. That thought took him by surprise again. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t surprised. He’d been semi-obsessed with her mouth since he’d met her almost twenty-four hours ago. And that was the main reason he hesitated to hire her.

      “I thought your father didn’t want you cooking for strange men,” he said.

      “Strangers,” she clarified. “Besides, he doesn’t get a vote. And I really want this job.”

      “Something to prove to your family?”

      “Maybe. As I said, it would look great on my résumé. And the bottom line is you haven’t found anyone yet. Time’s awasting. I’m good at my job and I’d like the opportunity to prove it to you.”

      “Fair enough. When and where?”

      “Tomorrow night. My apartment.”

      “I’ll be there.”

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