All Your Loving (Bachelors & Bridesmaids) (3 page)

"All right, I'm sold," he said lightly.

"Really? Does that mean you're going to help us out?"

He nodded. "What do I need to do?"

"We'd like you to be a chef in our Celebrity Cook-Off a week from Saturday at the Ambassador Hotel. We'll have a dozen celebrities cooking and then putting their dishes in front of a panel of celebrity judges, but you would be the star. It's not a huge commitment of time."

"I'll do it," he said. "But I want to know something first."

"What's that?"

"When we met earlier, when I said no, you said you hated baseball players, hated people like me."

She paled at his words. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

"That's an apology, not an explanation."

"I was just overstating an opinion."

"What happened? Did some baseball player screw you over?"

She hesitated, as if debating whether she wanted to answer his question. "You could say that, yes."

"We're not all the same, you know."

"I haven't seen much evidence to support that opinion."

"Who was the player? Is he still in the game?"

"Why don't we talk more about the cook-off?"

"We'll get to the details. You tarred me with the brush of some other guy, and I want to know who it was."

Her jaw tightened. "You heard my last name, right?"

Her question set him back, and he had to think for a moment. "Michaels?"

"Ring a bell?"

Their gazes met, clung together.

Anger burned in her eyes along with what looked like pain.

"Are you talking about Jack Michaels?" he asked slowly.

"Yes. Jack is my father."

He felt like she'd punched him in the stomach. "You're Jack Michaels' kid?"

"I guess you know him then."

"I do—really well. Jack was a mentor to me when I first came up from the minors. It was his last season in the league. He was forty-one years old, and he pitched a no-hitter in the playoffs. It was one of the most amazing feats I'd ever seen." He shook his head, thinking back to that day ten years ago. He'd been a nineteen-year-old rookie and Jack had seemed like a God to him, to everyone on the team. "Did you see that game?"

"No, my father had left my mother and me that year, so we weren't going to his games. I'm sure his twenty-two-year-old girlfriend was in the stands."

Now he knew where the anger and pain came from. "I'm sorry. I guess I knew Jack was divorced, but I didn't know the circumstances."

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Let's talk about the cook-off."

"All right. There is one small problem."

"What's that?"

"I don't know how to cook."

A frown drew her brows together. "You must know how to cook something—spaghetti, chicken, steak?"

"No, no and no."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "Are you sure you're not just looking for another way out?"

"I came all the way over here to find you. Would I really be looking for an escape route now?" Actually, he should be looking for an escape route, because the beautiful Julie with her golden hair, blue eyes, sexy curves and deeply ingrained hatred of ballplayers was presenting an intriguing challenge, a challenge he really should stay the hell away from, especially now that he knew she was Jack Michaels' daughter.

"You tell me," she returned.

"I'm in, but I can't cook, so is there something else I could do?"

"No, each celebrity will cook their meal in a unique kitchen area, specifically designed for that celebrity by volunteer interior designers. If you're going to participate, they'll create a kitchen for you with probably a baseball theme or you can certainly have input if you like, but we're running a little short on time."

"Why is that?" he asked curiously. "I usually get invitations months in advance. Someone dropped out, didn't they?"

"Yes," she admitted. "Otherwise, we do prefer to give as much notice as possible."

"So I'm your second choice."

"You're a star, Mr. Kingsley. You would always be everyone's first choice, but you're not easy to get to. Other celebrities like these opportunities to create an aura of generosity."

He liked her candid response. One thing about Julie Michaels—she was not a bull-shitter.

"We were working with Kevin Markham," she continued. "I don't know if you're familiar with him."

"Action hero? Yeah, I know his work."

"He just went into rehab, so we need to replace him."

"Okay, then I can only see one solution to the problem. You'll have to teach me how to cook in the next ten days."

She immediately shook her head. "I don't think so."

"You don't know how to cook?"

"I do, but I can't teach you."

"Why not?"

"Because I have a job that takes up all my days and quite frankly a lot of my nights, especially before big events."

"I'm busy, too. We're talking about one meal. If you can't teach me something I can make, then I can't participate. I'm not going to embarrass myself."

"I'm sure you could hire a chef to give you a lesson."

He could hire a chef, and that would probably be a smarter move, but right now all he could think about was locking down a date with Julie Michaels, and he knew she wasn't going to willingly spend time with him unless she was getting something out of it.

"I'm not interested in hiring someone. That's going to take effort and time. So here's the deal—you give me one cooking lesson, and I'm yours for the cook-off. What do you say?"

She had no choice, and they both knew it.

"Fine," she said with a sigh. "What night?"

"How about tomorrow? Friday night? Or do you have a date?" It occurred to him that he didn't even know if Julie was single, although there was no ring on her finger.

"I can make tomorrow," she said slowly.

"Great. What are we going to make?"

"I won't make anything—you will. I'm just going to be advising." Julie paused. "What do you like to eat?"

"Anything and everything. I'm not picky."

"I'll look through some recipes and pick something that isn't too hard and that will be easy for the hotel kitchen to recreate for all the guests. While your entry will go to the panel of judges, everyone in the room will be tasting the same dishes prepared by the hotel chefs. We'll need to change the recipe to give it a more personal Matt Kingsley spin, but that should work. Do you like hot and spicy?"

He smiled at the question. "Hot, sweet, spicy, sexy…it's all good."

Her cheeks warmed at his words. "You're a troublemaker, aren't you?"

"I've been called worse. Give me your number, and I'll text you my address. If I'm going to learn to cook, it might as well be in my own kitchen."

"Where do you live?"

"I have a condo near the ballpark at Brandon and Second."

She nodded. "There's a supermarket not far from there. I'll meet you there at six-thirty tomorrow night, and we can buy the ingredients together."

"Shopping and cooking?" he asked doubtfully, suddenly wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

"They do go together," she said with a smile as she got to her feet. "You're quite spoiled, aren't you?"

He stood up. "It's been a good decade," he admitted. "But my mother would be horrified to think I was spoiled."

"Really? Even though she never taught you how to cook?"

"She worked two jobs when I was growing up. She didn't have time to cook or to teach me how to do it," he said, remembering the long days when he'd waited for her to come home, only to have to see her rush out the door again for a second job late in the night. He'd made a promise to himself when he was very young that someday he would find a way to make sure she didn't have to work that hard.

"Sorry," Julie said, guilt in her eyes. "I seem to be really judgmental when it comes to you."

"To me? Or to everyone?" he couldn't help asking.

"You seem to have brought out the worst in me, but it's not really you, it's what you do for a living. However, I do want to thank you for agreeing to participate in the cook-off. Your support at this event will make a huge difference. Let me show you out."

She walked him down the hall, past the darkened conference room and empty cubicles.

"You're closing down this place," he commented.

"I have a few things to finish up. When you work for a non-profit, you do what has to be done, no matter how long it takes."

"I can see that you're a hard worker."

"I don’t know any other way to work," she replied.

He smiled. "You might be surprised to know it's exactly the same for me." He paused at the door. "Goodnight Julie Michaels. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she muttered, then shut the door behind him.

* * *

Julie leaned against the door and let out a breath. She still couldn't quite believe Matt Kingsley had tracked her down, that he'd agreed to participate in the cook-off, and most importantly that she'd somehow been talked into giving him a cooking lesson at his home. What a crazy turn of events. She hadn't thought she'd ever see him again after the way things had ended in the parking lot, but Matt had surprised her with an apology.

She almost wished he hadn't come to find her, because seeing him tonight had sent some ridiculous nervous shivers down her spine, and while he'd been talking to her, she'd found herself thinking about his mouth, his lips, and the way his tongue had slid against the seam of her lips during their unexpected kiss.

He was a ballplayer, and she hated ballplayers, she reminded herself.

But Matt was turning out to be not that easy to hate. He was charming her, and she was letting his good looks and sexy smile get to her. That was just part of the game, she told herself. Of course, he knew how to get a woman to like him. Charm was part of the celebrity sports star package. But she knew what happened after all that. She'd seen her mother go through it, and the last thing she needed to do was follow her mother down that same path.

So she'd give Matt a cooking lesson and that would be that. He'd honor his commitment, and in a few weeks, she'd never have to see him again.

She made her way back to her office and had barely sat back down at her desk when her phone buzzed. Despite her very recent mental pep talk, her stomach turned over at the sight of Matt's name in her text messages.

"Looking forward to tomorrow," he said, his address following the brief message.

Yeah, he was definitely working the attentive angle. She leaned back in her chair with a sigh, feeling way too distracted and restless to keep working.

Picking up her phone again, she texted her friend Liz to see if she wanted to grab dinner. Liz sent back an immediate yes. She was looking at wedding venues with Kate so they'd both meet her in thirty minutes.

She sighed again. Liz's words reminded her that Liz was her third friend to get engaged in the last year, and soon she would be adding another bridesmaid's dress to her closet. Liz hadn't set a date for her wedding yet, but Julie had a feeling it would be soon. Liz's father was sick, and while he was holding his own at the moment, Liz very much wanted her dad to walk her down the aisle, so she would not go for a long engagement. Hopefully, her dad's health would remain stable and he would be by Liz's side on her wedding day. Liz's relationship with her father had always been so close, and Julie had sometimes been a little jealous of that.

She would have loved to have her father in her life. But even before the divorce, he'd rarely been around and afterward he'd disappeared. He'd moved on, and she doubted he'd ever looked back. Her father surrounded himself with people who adored him—people like Matt Kingsley. She'd seen Matt's face when she mentioned her father was the infamous Jack Michaels, and Matt had sat up a little straighter, obviously impressed. And it wasn't just that Matt knew of Jack but they'd played together. Jack had been Matt's mentor, so of course, Matt idolized her father. Jack Michaels was everyone's hero—but hers.

She needed to get Matt out of her life as fast as possible, because he was already bringing up way too many memories. Ten days, she told herself. Ten days and then she would never have to see him again. But she had a feeling those ten days were going to prove to be more than a little interesting and challenging.

Chapter Three

Liz Palmer was a brown-eyed blonde who'd been friends with Julie since middle school and Kate Marlowe was a pretty brunette Julie had met her first week in college. They'd been friends ever since. Liz worked in public relations and had just changed firms while Kate ran her own wedding planning business, which was actually picking up steam with so many of their friends getting married.

Drinks were followed by dinner at an Asian fusion restaurant in the Ferry Building where Julie listened to lots of wedding talk: cake-toppers, music, flowers, and invitations… the list seemed to go on and on. Thankfully, she didn't have to say much. Kate had a million ideas, and Liz was caught up in the giddy delight of being a bride. It was actually kind of funny to see Liz acting so dreamy. Until she'd fallen in love with Michael, Liz had been one of the more cynical members of their group of friends.