The Beauty of Us (Fusion #4)

She nods. “She’s my dad’s mother, and we grew very close after he passed away. She’s actually a lot of fun.”

“Good.” I nod as my cameraman waves at me, signaling that we’re almost finished. “Enjoy her, and we can see the falls another day.”

“Sunday?”

“Perfect.”

She nods and rushes into her office as I walk toward Mia, staying just out of the camera’s view.

“And that’s it,” she says with a shrug. “Wait. Let me do that again.”

She takes a deep breath, then looks up at the camera and smiles widely. “And that’s it. Trust me, if you follow this recipe, your guests will never want to leave your house.”

“And, cut,” the director says with a happy nod. “We’ve got it.”

Mia sighs in relief as the crew shuts down the lights and begins to clear out of the kitchen. We’re done shooting for today.

I join Mia and pat her shoulder. “You did great.”

“Really?” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m trying to get better about looking at the camera rather than down at the food all the time. I’ve never had to concentrate on anything other than the food before.”

“I get it, but you’re really a natural,” I reply with a nod. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about talking to you about doing the Chef vs. Chef show we do. Have you seen it?”

“Of course,” she says. “But you can’t seriously want me to go head-to-head with a celebrity chef.”

“Why not? Mia, after this hour-long special about your restaurant airs, you’ll be a celebrity chef.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, I won’t. I’ll just be that girl who was on TV once.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” I reply with a grin. “You are beautiful, the camera loves you, and you know exactly what you’re doing in the kitchen. Viewers would devour it.”

“Trevor, I think you’re really sweet to say all of those things, but look at me.” She holds her arms out to the side and looks down herself. “I’m not exactly the usual body type for television. I’m way too heavy for that.”

“You’re wrong,” I reply, and hold my hand up when she frowns and looks like she’s going to argue with me. “Hear me out, Mia. Your curves are beautiful, first of all. Your hair is ridiculously pretty, and I know it’s not usual to wear your hair down in the kitchen, but they probably would have you do exactly that when filming the show.”

“That’s not sanitary,” she says with a frown.

“It’s for TV, not for serving a wedding party,” I reply. “Plus, and you may not believe this, but you are very pretty. Many chefs are curvy, and are still on TV. Trisha Yearwood, Ina Garten, Rachael Ray. That’s the beauty of television about food, the stars are all shapes and sizes, all ages. You’re awesome, Mia. Trust me, this is what I do for a living.”

“I’ll give it some thought,” she murmurs softly. “I don’t love having you in my kitchen, I’m not going to lie about that. But if it was just one episode . . .”

“We could start with one,” I reply, and smile when her head whips up to mine.

“Trevor, I don’t want Good Bites TV parked in my kitchen indefinitely.”

“I get it.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “Let’s get this special under our belts first, and see what happens.”

“Okay.” She sighs. “How much longer do we have of filming?”

“I’d like to do another round of interviews with each of you, and then a full day of interviewing you as a group.”

“How long is this special?” she asks with a scowl. “We’ve already given you hours of footage.”

“And it’ll all get scrutinized and cut down to an hour,” I reply with a smile. “That’s not my department. I just have to make sure we have plenty of footage for the editors.”

“Okay,” she says. “You’re the expert.”

“That I am.”

“You’re also very cozy with Riley.”

It’s amazing to watch the switch flip instantly from chef to best friend.

“That’s also true.”

“You’re good for her,” she says as she wipes down a countertop with a white rag. She tosses it into a nearby sink and leans her hips against the counter, her arms crossed, and looks me in the eyes. “Are you going to hurt her?”

“No, ma’am, that’s not my goal in the least.”

“It doesn’t have to be your goal for it to happen,” she says. “I mean, only a monster gets with a woman with the intention of mind-fucking her later.”

“True.”

“Riley’s a good person. She’s probably the best of all of us. She’s not innocent, or even naive really, but she’s good, you know?”

“I do. I was just thinking the same last night.”

She nods. “She’s met some real douchebags. Then again, most of us have.”

“And it’s not just men who have the market on douchebaggery,” I remind her. “I’ve met my share.”

“Oh, for sure,” she says with a nod. “If I’m being honest, I can be a douchebag.”

“I think you’re just a master at defending your heart,” I reply, and she blinks rapidly.

“You hardly know me.”

“I know.” I shrug. “I’m a people watcher, and I overthink most things. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay.” She watches me for a moment. “Let me tell you something about Riley, Trevor. She’ll expect you to disappear. Most of the men in her life haven’t stuck around. They die, or they bail. So this whole long-distance thing makes me nervous.”

“It doesn’t excite me either,” I reply with a sigh, and push my hand through my hair. “But I’ve already told her, this isn’t a fling for me. Neither of us wants that.”

“Good.” She smiles. “As long as you’re on the same page, that’s all a person can do.”

“I would say that we are, indeed, on the same page.”

“Maybe that’s why you’d like to force me to do more shows for you, so you have a reason to spend a large amount of time in Portland.”

“I already have a reason for that,” I remind her. “I don’t have to make excuses to be with Riley. If that’s what we both want, I’ll make it happen whether there’s a show involved or not. If need be, I can work in television locally.”

“That must be a step down, to go from national to local television.”

“The money is the same,” I reply with a shrug, and then scowl. “But we’re not talking about me.”

“No?” She grins, a smug Cheshire cat smile, and then chuckles. “I think you’ve given me all the answers I need.”

“You’re a good friend,” I say.

“Oh yeah.” She nods slowly. “There are two things in this life that I’m fucking excellent at, and it’s cooking and being there for my friends. Those are the two constants in my life that I can depend on no matter what, so I’m not going to fuck either of them up.”

“Good for you,” I reply, thinking of my group of friends spread all over the country, and our Wednesday-night games. “And I totally understand.”

“Good.” She wipes her hands on a towel. “Now that we understand each other, get out of my kitchen. I have to prepare for dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I grin and turn to stroll out, wondering what Riley’s up to, when Mia calls me back.

“Trevor.”

“Yeah.” I glance back over my shoulder.