Feel the Heat (Hot In the Kitchen)

chapter Seventeen


Jack leaned against the counter in DeLuca’s kitchen and rested his eyelids. Better that than watch Cara tallying the votes. Better that than watch Lili drawing ever-decreasing circles on the weathered countertop he had admired so much three nights ago. Had it only been three nights? Near the burners, Tony exuded enough negative vibes that there was a fair to middling chance their respective energy fields would clash and detonate. He hadn’t said a word so far, but Il Duce was primed to go ballistic. Jack wouldn’t have blamed him one bit.

His muscles ached. His bones felt like they’d been squeezed through a pasta roller. His nerves were blunted to the point of numbness. Jules was going to have a baby, and for some f*cked up reason, she’d decided he had to know this very minute instead of waiting for him to get to London tomorrow. And Lili had pushed a shiv between his ribs, suddenly and without warning.

Cara had begged him to finish the service (for the customers, Jack) and until Laurent stilled Jack’s arm while he was plating the desserts, he had assumed it was all going without a hitch. Spaced out, he had created a pyramid of gelato scoops so high, that if toppled, it could have leveled Moscow.

Cara smoothed out the ballots and raised her ice blues to Jack. “Forty-three in favor of Chef Kilroy. Sixty-two for Chef DeLuca. Jack, it’s your call. We can do a little creative editing with the reaction shots…” She snuck a glance at her father, who wore an expression like a smacked arse. Quality reaction shots there. “And declare you the winner. You do have final edit.”

“Or final say on whether an episode airs at all,” Jack said.

Cara’s mouth registered a pained patience, like he was being the difficult one here. This family didn’t just take the cake; they ransacked the entire bloody bakery.

“Of course, if that’s how you want to play it,” his producer said, but he’d worked with her long enough to recognize the skitter in her voice when something bothered her. She was scared. The success of the show, her job, and the future of her family’s restaurant were all on the line here. No pressure.

Lili rubbed her collarbone the way she did when she got distressed. Her gaze met his, willing him to understand. To accept that her family had good reasons for what they did. Tough, he had already run out of f*cks to give.

“Is my sister all right?” he bit out.

Lili nodded and hugged herself, possibly protecting herself from the chill he projected. “Mom came by and picked her up. She’s probably asleep by now.” The heat and humidity of the kitchen had expanded her hair and painted a sheen of perspiration on her face. Looking at her was like staring into the sun. He still wanted her, all of her, and he hated himself for that.

Anger solidified into a hot, raging mass beneath his breastbone. Someone had taken advantage of his sister, and the woman before him had tried to take advantage of him. He had worked in this business long enough that he shouldn’t have been surprised when users latched on to him for personal gain. His ex had wanted only the blistering flash of their grease-fire celebrity pairing. His sister sought him out only when she was up a creek, paddle AWOL. His father…Christ, John Sullivan emerged from his whiskey-sodden haze only when the barrel ran dry. And now Lili and a murder of scheming DeLucas, not satisfied with the free publicity they were already getting, had determined that humiliating the notorious chef would make a nice notch on the marketing campaign bedpost.

Tony stepped away from the stove. Nuclear fission imminent.

“I knew this was trouble from the beginning,” he said, his gaze passing over Jack. “We did not need the publicity. We did not need this show.”

Tony had finally elected to grace them with his two lire. Good thing Jack clenched his fists right then; otherwise he might have started a slow, sarcastic clap.

Lili’s expression resolved to panic. “Dad, there’s already been a ton of publicity.” Sure has, sweetheart, and how much of it was crafted by la famiglia and co.?

“Everyone knows the episode was taping here. If it doesn’t air, there’ll be questions, rumors about what happened. It would be a PR nightmare. We need the show, but Jack should win the challenge, of course.”

“Brava for coming up with a solution that lets me save face, love,” he murmured.

Hurt she had no right to blemished her face, making him angrier.

Tony’s color had darkened to aubergine. “You are not in a position to make decisions, Liliana. I do not know what has got into you lately. This would never have happened when your mother was in charge or if you had been keeping your eye on the staff instead of otherwise distracted.”

That was a more colorful version of what Jack had said an hour ago. The discomfort on her face deepened to a pain that seared his soul. Toughen up, Kilroy. He refused to care if she came apart.

Cara chimed in. “Dad, she fired Gina the minute she found out what happened.”

Jack’s head snapped back so hard a nerve in his neck pinched. “You did?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lili said dully, eyes on the floor. All the spirit had left her body at Tony’s reprimand.

Cara squeezed her sister’s arm. “Lili did what she could to contain it, but that won’t stop me from murdering the poisonous dwarf when I see her next. Now, I think we can all agree that it’s been a very unusual evening.” She delivered a pointed look at Jack. Apparently he should accept a portion of the blame because his sister had elected to put in a show-stopping arrival. “Jack, babe, it’s down to you.”

Her usual cajolery was not going to fly. “Cara, don’t think you can produce your way out of this. You dumped me into this situation and neglected to mention your family’s financial problems or how desperate you all are to get your fifteen minutes.” He left out the gem about how she had set him up to service her sister like he was a prize stud horse. Tony already had the shotgun; Jack wasn’t going to offer to load it.

“Jack, the show was in a fix,” Cara said, still with that easy soothe no different from Lili. This woman was skating close to the drop. “We needed another location stat.”

“You think I don’t know a slew of chefs in Chicago who’d drop everything to be on Jack of All Trades? I trusted your judgment, Cara, but hey, I have my uses, right? Doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I do not care who wins,” Tony interrupted. “I only care about what is right.”

All eyes shifted to Tony. Jack couldn’t blame the man, who was just as much a victim in this ambush. His excellence in the kitchen was matched only by his honor and his love for his family. Tonight, Jules slept in a DeLuca bed, no questions asked, and as much as Jack despised the younger generation’s intrigues, he couldn’t take it out on their father. Hell, he admired him too much.

“The result stands,” Jack said. “Tony’s the winner.”

He insisted the decision had nothing to do with how his heart scrunched at Lili’s clear anguish in the wake of her father’s scolding. Nor how the same maddening muscle lifted when he heard she’d sacked Gina. Tomorrow he would pick up his sister, shake the pasta flour off his feet, and forget the whole freaking lot of them.

Tony threw his hands up in air already thick with tension. “No! I will not accept the benefits of my family’s disgraceful behavior.”

“Dad, it’s Jack’s decision to make. He’s in charge,” Cara said wearily, gathering up the ballots quickly before the boss could change his mind. “We’ve already kept everyone waiting long enough. Let’s not make it any worse than it already is.”

The relief on Lili’s face infuriated and pleased Jack in equal measure. He might say he was doing it for Tony, but they both knew differently. Shit was messed up but that’s what happens when you’re so bowled over you can’t even think straight. When you’re in love.

Holy f*ck.

That was…damned inconvenient.

And impossible. Not after three days. Not after less than three days. Infatuated, yes. Sexually obsessed, definitely. But in love? Not bloody likely.

Ker-ist. All he’d wanted was a date.

“This is not acceptable,” Tony said to no one in particular, eerily echoing Jack’s sentiments. Being in love with this woman was in no way acceptable.

“Tony and I need a moment alone.” What Jack really needed was to get away from her. His skin felt too tight; every breath felt labored. He slid a sharp glance to Cara, who nodded and steered Lili toward the dining room. As she left, Lili sent him a look of gratitude he neither desired nor needed. He fought to get control of his emotions. You are not in love, dickhead. You just need to get laid.

“Tony, you deserve this win. Your menu was superb and to be honest, that gnocchi should win an MVP award. Most valuable pasta.” His words spilled over each other in a nervous tumble.

Tony’s mouth twitched. Almost, almost…nope, the threatening smile never materialized.

Il Duce wouldn’t be swayed by compliments, so Jack took a calming breath and sought safer territory. “I don’t like what your family did, but I know who won here. And believe me, people love when the famous chef is taken down a peg or three. For me to lose on the premiere episode of my new show and to the father of—” He tripped up when he realized where that was going. The father of the woman I…shut the hell up. “It’ll make for great ratings. Sure, you’re doing me a favor.”

He was buying stock in his own hype now, showing Tony he was exactly what the man despised. A fame-hungry megawhore who had dragged his daughter’s reputation through the mud. It’s all about the ratings. But Jack would not back down from his decision. Having some say in how this played out was about all he had left.

Tony unfolded his arms and lay his palms flat on the abraded countertop, the one Jack had caressed the first night he met Lili. He should hate this kitchen, but for a reason he couldn’t fathom, his affection for it had only increased.

“Thank you, I will accept your decision. On one condition,” Tony said, the words incisive jabs to Jack’s thumping head.

Unbelievable. How did they get to the point where Tony could impose conditions? Jack sighed.

“Stay away from my youngest daughter.”

It shouldn’t have hurt, but Tony’s demand gouged a pit where Jack’s heart usually lived. What had he expected? Gratitude that he had stopped a shit storm from plummeting down on this man’s livelihood? Acknowledgment that Jack’s decision might have actually saved their business? Tony was looking out for his family and Jack had no choice but to respect that.

Besides, the older man’s sparse request would be a snap.

“Won’t be a problem.”

* * *

Lili wasn’t sure how much time passed once the restaurant emptied out the crews, both television and DeLuca. Everyone had descended on O’Casey’s Tap to celebrate the outcome. All she wanted to do was creep upstairs and crawl inside a tub of Cherry Garcia.

What a fiasco. Her father’s admonishments about her managerial inadequacy were tough to take, but she couldn’t blame him for being upset. She had been playing hooky with Jack when she should have been keeping her finger on the pulse and ensuring the girls toed the line. Tony would eventually come around, with the turning radius of the Titanic, maybe, but they’d get through it. Jack, on the other hand…oh, Jack. The hurt on his face had sliced her through and made her heartsick, and then his incredibly honorable and unselfish act to let the vote stand had smashed her to the ground. He had held her family’s future in his palm and come down on their side, even when they had betrayed the man and made him angrier than a bull battling a bee swarm. Angry enough to leave without saying good-bye.

Her one comfort, for she had to grasp on to something, was that she had stopped him from punching Marco, because she had no doubt that Jack had been about to clean her ex’s clock. Not that the scumbag deserved a reprieve but any more negative publicity would endanger Jack’s huge network deal. A few more seconds and there would have been a whole new video stealing focus from that infamous kiss.

Left alone, she made her usual pre-close walk-through and noted the long, weathered bar, the undressed tables that looked more modern without linens, and the leather banquettes fraying at the edges. A scrap of silver duct tape scarred the floor, the only evidence the show had been there. That and the dull ache in her heart.

Until a crash from the kitchen broke the stillness, she had assumed she was flying solo with her misery. Cautiously, she stole a glance through the kitchen door’s window, expecting Emilio or one of the line cooks making a final round of checks.

She didn’t expect Jack.

Her heart rate sped up to dangerous levels, not unlike three nights ago when she crept down that alley. He should have been gone, but he was here, and she luxuriated in a moment’s hope. She used that moment to watch him secretly. No longer in his chef’s togs, he wore faded jeans and an even more faded Pink Floyd T-shirt that molded the flexing contours of his broad back. It went without saying that he looked hotter than hell, but she told herself the news all the same.

“You’re here,” she said stupidly.

“Just finishing up,” he said without looking at her. He returned to his task of scrubbing something the kitchen crew could handle tomorrow.

“Can we talk?”

“I’m all talked out.” He looked up and met her gaze. His mossy eyes had turned to hunter green, dark buttons in his tired face. There was none of the heat and intensity she had come to love, only cold reproach and a hardness that shocked her. She wanted him to warm her with his gaze, soothe her with his touch. She wanted her Jack.

“Jack, I can’t thank you enough for what you did tonight. You have no idea how much it meant to me.”

No response, just the scratch-scrape of the steel wool against the pan. She took a wonky step, hoping that inching closer to him might help dissipate the animosity crackling through the air. Might help to ease him as it had done after Jules’s bombshell. He scrubbed harder.

“I can only imagine what you must think of us.”

He set the pan on the dish rack to be run through the next dishwasher cycle, then fixed her with a stare of such flat rage that she recoiled.

“I don’t think anything.”

She doubted that very much. “You have every right—”

“Because I’m not supposed to think, am I? I’m just supposed to shut up and play my part. At least, now I know why you didn’t want to date me. It was easier to string me along until I leave. Keep me sweet while you played me like a fiddle.”

“Jack, I haven’t been playing you. I wanted to date you. I want to date you.” Her words sounded too small for the moment, not urgent enough to repel his accusation.

“Oh, really? Have you finally worked out that being associated with me is good for your business? I’ve had people try to work me for a profit, but I never would have expected this from you.”

He said it like he knew her. She had felt as though he did. Hurt rolled off him in waves, lapping at her heart.

“I told you things, Lili. Things about my father, about Jules. Stuff I’ve never told another living soul.” He threw a dishtowel at the sink. It missed and sailed sadly to the floor. “Have you gathered enough information for when the gutter press come knocking? Should be quite the exclusive. You’ve got all the up-close-and-personal shots on your camera and now some juicy human interest gossip to round it out. His father’s not interested and his sister will only talk to him when she’s hit rock bottom. Shit writes itself. Jack Kilroy, good in the kitchen, good in the sack, not so good in real life.”

Realization warmed the glacial air and pricked her skin. This went so much deeper than the show. She wanted to curl her body around him and tell him he was mistaken. Tell him he could trust her just like she knew she could trust him.

“Jack, I haven’t been playing you. You’ve got to believe that. I know we got off on the wrong foot, that it looked like I wanted you for one thing, but it’s different now. I swear.”

But hours of simmering had stewed his anger into something sour. Fury sharpened his features to granite, and when he spoke, it was rougher and less cultured than usual.

“I felt sorry for you. I thought you were actually upset about that video. About all those mean things being said about you. You offered up your sob story and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. But no, you had a completely different agenda and it doesn’t matter who gets hurt. I’m just a guy with hot hands and a hard-on, a narcissistic fame whore primed to lose his ever-loving mind when a sexy girl comes onto him in a bar. A bar filled with your friends and relatives and coworkers all ready to get the money shot.”

The cold dread chilling her veins hardened to ice. Back to that ridiculous accusation? “You’ve got this all wrong, Jack. I already told you my family wasn’t responsible for the video.” But even as the words slipped past her lips, doubt assailed her. She just didn’t know anymore.

“Tell me, was the video a spur-of-the-moment thing or were you and Marco in cahoots all along? And when that wasn’t enough to guarantee full houses, you thought having your father beat the famous chef might be better all around.”

Mind flailing, she battled to process this latest punch. Jack thought she planned that video—with Marco? He thought she purposefully made herself a laughing stock and invited a storm of torrential hate to rain down on her. And for what? A few extra bookings for her family’s restaurant.

That was wrong on so many levels she didn’t know where to start. She didn’t have to. Suddenly he appeared taller, larger; then she realized it was because he was closer. Looming over her with those green-gold eyes dark as burned caramel. The freckly smudges she had worshipped with her mouth, all thirteen of them, were practically transparent against the high color in his face.

Trying to parse gradations of the truth would be futile. She had stopped Gina—she had fired her—but the actions of her cheating family were down to her. The buck stopped here, she thought grimly, like she was the president or something.

“I had nothing to do with that video. My family made a mistake and I take full responsibility for it.”

In his fury-stoked eyes, she thought she saw a flash of the Jack she knew, but it vanished before she could grasp it.

“Which part, Lili? Which part was a mistake?” A couple more steps and he had sealed them together, his forearms trapping her against the countertop. All banked heat, his body vibrated raw power, a contrast to his unyielding mouth, cruel and unforgiving. Still beautiful, though. Always that.

He rubbed his thumb across her lip, soft, devastating, and she gasped at the tenderness, another electrifying difference from the hard, unbending lines of his face. It shamed her to admit it, but that simple touch was enough to rev her body up to all systems go in zero point zero seconds flat.

“Which part was a mistake, Lili? Kissing me senseless in that bar? Playing hot nurse at my hotel? Letting me stroke and tease you until you could barely stand it? Biting me when I wouldn’t f*ck you fast enough? Was that a mistake?”

He pushed his thumb past her lips and the heat in her belly turned to want. And the want turned to need. And the need turned to heat again. She moaned.

At the sound, he dropped his hand from her face as if her touch made his skin crawl. His eyes dimmed, like all the lights in the city had blacked out in one fell swoop.

“I think the mistake was that you were found out. I’ve just been a pawn in your games. Promote the restaurant. Win back Marco. Take your pick. And if you get your rocks off along the way, that’s a bonus. Cara told me all about the plan. How I was brought in to show you a good time.”

Now her gasp was from shock instead of pleasure. She couldn’t get a full breath. Only useless little bursts of air made it to her lungs.

“We could have been so good together. So damn—” He raked his hair fast, but not so fast she missed the tremor in his hand. “I should have just screwed you when you threw yourself at me.”

A choked sob caught in her throat. Whoever said words could never hurt hadn’t the first idea what they were talking about. She felt hollowed out, her chest a large, empty cavity. No heartbeat, no breaths, nothing.

Then he was gone.

She wiped her eyes. No tears, but her hands shook and she slumped against the countertop. Her skin still burned from where his thumb had branded her.

A few hours ago, she had felt she could do anything because being with him had that effect. She could get the restaurant back on track and finally apply to grad school. She could fix things between Jack and his sister. She could give herself to the most exciting man she had ever met and revel in his naked desire for her. The thought of seeing more of him had scared her, but she could withstand a lot, even insults and jibes from people she had never met. But not from him. She was strong, but not that strong.

Because if she were stronger, she wouldn’t be feeling like her entire world had crashed around her ears and the one person who could make it better despised the floor she stood on.