Romancing The Chef. Robyn Amos
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barrage that made up her flight anxiety—would she miss her plane? Would her baggage arrive on time? Would the plane land safely?
Even though she hated to fly, it was a necessary evil, and she refused to let it get the best of her. But it was a process, and she was still working through it. After clearing security without getting stripped naked or carried off in handcuffs, Ronnie crossed another worry off her list. Now her stomach was making an audible plea for breakfast.
Heading to a coffee shop, she was immediately assaulted by the smell of her favorite treat, a tall whipped-cream-laden mocha latte. The barista put it in the waiting hand of yet another temptation, a tall chocolate-skinned man in an expensive suit.
He saw her looking and nodded. “You should try one. It’s delicious.”
In a moment of whimsy, she imagined asking the barista for a dark sexy gentleman with a good job and no emotional baggage.
In the real world, Ronnie smiled and shook her head no. In the past she would have ordered that mocha latte, filled it with extra sugar and then drank it alongside a warm, buttery Danish. Today she told the barista, “I’ll just have a small black coffee and the fruit cup.”
After she received her breakfast, Ronnie perched herself on a stool at a long counter that faced the airport traffic. Seconds later, the sexy guy in the suit parked himself next to her with his latte and Danish.
“Where’s your flight headed?” he asked, flashing a flirtatious smile.
Ronnie had to resist the urge to give her answering smile its full wattage. “Las Vegas,” she said in a neutral tone.
“What a coincidence. I’m going to Las Vegas for business, too.”
Ronnie wanted to bat her eyelashes and sweet-talk him. Handsome and well dressed was just her type. But sweets weren’t the only things restricted from her diet these days.
So she just nodded politely, not encouraging further conversation.
“Since we’re both going to be in town, maybe we could—”
Ronnie was already shaking her head. “Sorry. I’m going strictly for business, and there just won’t be any time to socialize.”
Picking up her coffee and fruit cup, she slid off her stool with her heart hammering in her chest. She felt awful, but she had to believe she was doing the right thing. No sweets because they were bad for her health. No men because they were bad for her heart.
Once in a while, she allowed herself to eat something sinful, but Ronnie didn’t know when she could trust herself with a man again. Like food, she loved men, and when left to her own devices, she always picked the ones that were bad for her.
Ronnie stumbled off the plane in Las Vegas, feeling rumpled and irritable. It had been a miserable flight, and now all she wanted to do was get her luggage and go.
She made her way to baggage claim, then watched the carousel circle, trying to stay back from the fray of elbowing passengers hauling their bags away.
After several minutes, she spotted her navy-blue bag. Timing her approach carefully, she made a grab for it. But, at that same time, a large man who’d been talking on his cell phone with his back to the carousel spotted the bag and went for it.
The bag slipped from her fingers as he pulled it out of her grasp.
Temper spiking, Ronnie said, “Watch it, man! That’s mine. See, I wrote my name on the label in neon-green ink.”
“Oh, sorry, ma’am,” he said, immediately setting the bag down in front of her.
Ronnie shot a glaring look upward and froze in place. She was staring at none other than The Sexy Chef himself.
Pressing her fingers to her lips in surprise, she said, “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it. Ace Brown.”
He flashed his perfect white teeth. “Well, yes. It’s always a pleasure to be recognized by a fan.”
The smile died from Ronnie’s lips. She searched his face to see if this was some sort of joke. Instead she saw a friendly distance in his eyes.
Ronnie had been looking forward to seeing Ace’s reaction to her new, slimmer figure, but she doubted she looked that different from her former self.
Instead of being flattered, Ronnie found herself getting ticked off. She’d finally come face-to-face with her old friend Ace Brown, and he didn’t have a clue who she was.
Chapter 3
Preoccupied, Ace had given the woman before him only a cursory glance. He’d been trying to reach Garett because he couldn’t remember if GTV was sending a car, or if he was supposed to take a cab.
Even in that brief look, he’d noted that the woman was attractive, and he was always happy to meet a fan of his show.
Not having any luck reaching his publicist, he tucked his cell phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Ace looked up in time to see the woman’s face go from pleasantly surprised to angry.
His brows knit. Why on earth would a perfect stranger be mad—
Then it hit him. She wasn’t a perfect stranger. He might not have recognized her right away, but after really looking at her face for a few seconds, he began to see those familiar espresso-colored eyes, her juicy plum lips and her pert little nose.
“Oh my God. Ronnie? Is that you?”
Her features were just about the only things that hadn’t changed. Somehow his friend had gone from cuddly cutie to buxom bombshell. Her round face was more narrow and her waist more slim, but, thankfully, she still had those voluptuous curves where it counted.
She’d always been attractive, but facts were facts. Now she was hot. He had to force himself to look away before his ogling became cartoonish.
Her lips twitched, but not into the smile he was hoping for. “Oh, so now you recognize me.”
He sighed sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I was distracted. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, and I wasn’t expecting to run into you just now. But, you look fantastic and … I’m rambling, aren’t I,” he said, when her expression remained impassive.
She simply nodded.
Her rumpled clothing and slightly mussed topknot suggested that she’d had a rough flight. But Ace still couldn’t stop staring at her. The new Ronnie was a slice of perfection.
Dressed in hip-hugging caramel slacks, a scooped cherry-red tank and a butter-soft leather blazer the color of roasted peanuts, she looked good enough to top a hot fudge sundae. Her form-fitting clothes showed off her feminine curves.
She cleared her throat, and Ace pulled himself together. “I guess we were on the same flight. I should have realized when I made my connection at Dulles, but I didn’t see you on the plane.”
Ronnie rolled her eyes. “That’s because I was in coach.”
He frowned, confused. “Didn’t the show fly you—”
“Yes, but it’s a long story.” She picked up the handle onher rolling luggage and searched for the exit. “I guess I’ll see you at the hotel.”
Surprised by her dismal mood, Ace stared after her. Was she so upset just because he hadn’t recognized her right away? No, it had to be something else. Even though they’d been out of touch for a while, they’d been too close for something so petty to come between them.
Grabbing his luggage off the carousel, Ace headed toward the exit. To his relief, there was a driver outside holding a sign with his name on it. The man led him to a black sedan waiting at the curb and opened the door for him.
He slid across the seat and found a pleasant surprise. Ronnie was already in the car. “And we meet again.”
She nodded without her usual enthusiasm,