Chapter Four

Alex stood staring out the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, his thoughts scattered, his skin itching for no reason he could consciously understand. His mind was not on the view, although it was spectacular. He could see the Morrison Bridge and the river below it. The sun had broken through the clouds, setting alight the ripples across the water. But he wasn't thinking about the sparkle of what resembled a thousand gemstones on the surface of the Willamette River.

He'd asked her, and she'd accepted, and now he was going to shackle himself to Alana Morgan, for better or worse. 'Til death do us part. The years suddenly seemed to stretch out before him like the expansive view below. For a moment, he'd wondered what had led him here. What path had he followed to reach this exact moment in time?

After college, like an aspiring entrepreneurial cliché, he'd moved to New York City and started climbing the ranks. Alex had felt less like the proverbial racing rodent and more like a mountain goat, leaping for more and more precarious positions until he'd reached the top and been able to look over the heads of those below him. But he'd never really enjoyed the view from the tall towers of Manhattan and he'd soon sought out other locales, free from the constant press of other people, from the lights and the traffic and the feeling of being alone in the crowd.

He'd bounced from city to city, from country to country, always making money, always building new connections, but it wasn't until he'd decided to check in on his old rival that he'd discovered the delights of the Pacific Northwest. His being in Brice's city had stuck in Masterson's craw so he'd lingered, enjoying inducing discomfort in his enemy.

But before long he'd realized he wasn't sticking around just to piss Brice Masterson off. He'd liked it here, liked the small scale metropolis that had enough hidden delights that he thought he'd never uncover all of them. Portland, Oregon might be off the beaten path for most multimillionaire empire-builders, but it suited him, and he'd moved the bulk of his operations west.

Now he was truly settling down, taking a wife and presumably building a family here in the City of Roses. But unlike the sweet-smelling bushes that bloomed so beautifully all around the city, Alana was more the hothouse flower variety. Striking and exotic, but apt to wither when taken out of her lush and perfectly-arranged environment. She was nothing like the woman he'd once imagined himself marrying, a open and caring woman who would put her family first, who'd see to everyone else's happiness before her own. Like his own mother, God rest her soul.

His reverie was broken by a knock on his office door. His next appointment had arrived. Which one was this again? Oh yes, the caterer. The thought put a wry twist to his lips. Of course. How could I have forgotten?

His receptionist showed the caterer in and left, closing the door behind her. But Alex only had eyes for the creature who'd walked in and now stood looking around his office.

The first thought that came to his head was: What a terrible outfit. Right behind that was: But not a bad body underneath. She was short, or maybe she just seemed so. Alana was nearly his height in the tall heels she favored, but this woman barely came up to his shoulders. And she was plump. Pleasingly plump, he thought, warmth filling him.

Get your mind on business and out of the gutter. He held out his hand and she shook it. Her grip was light, her skin soft, and the contact too short.

"Alex Drake," he said when he remembered to speak.

She blinked, a faint rosy glow staining her cheeks. "Lila Johnstone."

He motioned her toward a chair then took his seat. "You're the chef responsible for the Masterson reception."

She gave him an odd look. "Not a chef exactly. But yes, I catered the Masterson wedding."

"The food was fantastic. You have a gift."

She flushed deeper, a very becoming flush. Her voice was soft when she replied. "Thank you."

Alex nodded, the quiet huskiness of her words making his skin tingle. He remained silent for a moment, his eyes taking in her nervous motions as she straightened her blazer. Her ugly polyester blazer. But underneath...

He again reined in his unruly thoughts. "I want you to cater an event for me. A party for about fifty or so people, at my home."
Lila nodded, a small smile appearing on her face.

The grin gave him a sharp intake of breath. Her features were lovely, really. Hazel eyes shining beneath thick lashes. Dark hair pulled back in a severe bun, which only served to highlight her cheekbones and those luscious pink lips.

She spoke, and Alex realized he'd been quiet for too long. Get your head in the game. You're a soon-to-be married man.

"What kind of party will it be? I mean, what kind of food were you thinking about? Full dinner service? Buffet style..?" Her words petered out and he watched her swallow anxiously.

"Buffet, I think. It's a party, so a full dinner seems unnecessary."

She bent then, pulling a manila folder from the black bag she'd brought in and placed next to her chair. Having opened it and pulled out a sheaf of papers, she got down to business. "I have a list of possible menu items here. If you'd like to look them over and make some selections, I can give you a price quote."

Alex took the papers she offered, wishing there was a way to touch his fingers to hers but the hand-off was too quick. He rifled through the pages, the words a blur. He couldn't focus, not with her bright eyes watching him.

"I'm none too familiar with fancy fare," he said. He ate at some of the world's poshest restaurants, but right here, right now, he couldn't remember any one of the thousands of dishes he'd sampled.

And his accent was creeping out. It was normally kept under control, but something about this woman wrecked his concentration. "These names don't really mean much to me. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Of course," she said, her voice taking on strength as she started listing dishes. He let her talk for a few minutes, then held up his hand.

"Sounds great."

She raised a dark eyebrow. "Which one?"

Alex couldn't remember anything she'd said. "All of it."

Lila's lips quirked into a grin which she quickly banished. "Uh, I'm not sure about your guests, but that seems like a lot of food for just one party. Wouldn't you like to choose some dishes specifically?"

Alex frowned. He sounded like a fool. But he couldn't for the life of him recall any of her suggestions. Then an idea so brilliant that it gave him shivers appeared from the ether.

"Look, I trust your judgment. I've had your food."

The smile she gave him made his muscles tense. Then it prompted him to make his proposal. "How about this? You choose some dishes that you think would be appropriate, then you make a test run. I'll drop by, taste what you've made, and make my selection."

He watched her think it over. For a moment he thought she would refuse, and he held his breath, not releasing it until she finally replied.

"I suppose that's possible. I'd have to add the expense to your estimate. And I can't really give you a quote until you've made your selection."

"Of course," he said, pulling out his wallet and flipping it open to draw out some bills. "Consider this a deposit."

When he handed the bills to her, his fingers were finally able to touch hers. The contact was warm, and his body grew hot.

"This is...well, it's a lot, and if you aren't happy with the test dishes--"
Alex held up his hand, cutting off her words. "Like I said, I've tasted your food before. I'm sure it will be spectacular. The party is less than two weeks away, and I'd like to make the decision as soon as possible. When would be convenient for the test run?"

Lila's brow furrowed as she thought about it. "I'd have to shop for ingredients, organize the menu..."

"Tomorrow night?"

Her eyes flashed. Too soon? "How about the day after tomorrow?"

He grinned. "That would be fine. Make sure you leave your address at reception."

Alex stood and she followed suit. He came around the desk and she turned to move toward the door. Overtaking her, he managed to settle a hand on the small of her back. His blood fairly boiled at the touch.

"I'm looking forward to working with you," he said, his voice low. Gruff.

She looked up at him and he was momentarily lost. "Me too."

Lila stepped away, and he almost took a step toward her. But she was at the door. Alex let his eyes drink her in before she departed. He could see her curves, almost hidden beneath that awful suit. His concentration shot again, he opened his mouth and inserted his foot.

"At least I know your cooking is better than your choice of attire, cupcake."

Lila recoiled slightly. Like I slapped her, he thought. Drake, you're an idiot.

"Nice meeting you," she said, then scurried out the door, pulling it closed behind her.