Meagan
Authors: Shona Husk
Shona Husk
Shona Husk
From the hottest writers in Australia comes a scintillating new series. Enter the world of Sydney's elite, and find out what goes on behind the doors of the most exclusive addresses in the countryâ¦
Meet the Housewives of Sydney. They are wealthy, elegant, poised, and constantly in the public eye. But what goes on behind closed doors, in the private homes and parties where the cameras and paparazzi aren't welcome? Delve into the most personal details of their relationships, their friendships and their lives. The only question is: can you handle the heat?
Meagan knows food. In the kitchen, she's confident, cool, and in charge. But when it comes to presenting next season's dishes and delicacies to the owner of the exclusive restaurant where she is head chef, all of her insecurities boil to the surface. She knows that she's playing with fire with a special dessert that blows the restaurant's budget, but maybe, with the help of some unorthodox persuasion techniques, she might just get what she wants â everything that she wants.
Reading order:
1. VirginiaâRhian Cahill
2. LanaâCate Ellink
3. NellaâCathleen Ross
4. SiennaâTamsin Baker
5. JorjaâLexxie Couper
6. MeaganâShona Husk
7. ChristaâKeziah Hill
8. EmmaâViveka Portman
9. WillowâChristina Phillips
10. CamillaâMel Teshco
11. DarlaâTracey O'Hara
Three-time ARRA finalist Shona Husk lives in Western Australia at the edge of the Indian Ocean. Blessed with a lively imagination she spent most of her childhood making up stories. As an adult she discovered romance novels and hasn't looked back.
With stories ranging from sensual to scorching, she writes contemporary, paranormal, fantasy and sci-fi romance. You can find out more at
www.shonahusk.com
,
www.twitter.com/ShonaHusk
,
www.facebook.com/shonahusk
Newsletter: http://mad.ly/signups/119074/join
Sometimes writing is a very solitary endeavour. Being able to work with bunch of other authors on a project like this is a lot of fun. Thank you!
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishingâ¦
Aside from the radio playing in the background, the restaurant was silent. Edesia was always closed on Mondays. Today, however, Meagan Bissett had spent the afternoon working, preparing the dishes that she planned to put on the autumn menu. While she was happy with the presentation, the costings and profit margins, she still had to run them past the owner, Fraser Oxley-Nichols.
The heat that raced through her body when she thought of their meetings had nothing to do with working in the kitchen. She might be the name behind the award-winning restaurant, but he was the money. He had the final sayâ¦although she had to admit he usually sampled the food, checked the budget and gave his approval without requesting any changes. He trusted her when it came to the food. As long as she met his financial guidelines.
Meagan glanced at the large cognac and dark chocolate truffle that would be served with praline and vanilla bean ice-cream and had to admit that she might be pushing that expensive treat up hill. It didn't meet the requirements, but it was only out by a smidge and it had luxury and decadence written all over its recipe.
She wiped the sauce off the edge of the entrée seafood platter she'd prepared and carried it out to the table that she'd already set for two. It was the table they always sat at, out of view from the windows at the front. Private. From her black pants she pulled out a lighter so she could light the candle that lit up the table's centrepiece. She didn't need to do that, but it was part of the presentation. Plus Fraser wasn't just any man. He was sin in a three-piece suit.
Her heart gave a flutter that had nothing to with nerves about serving up her new creations. No, it was pure desire. Every time he walked in here he made her feel like she was an apprentice who didn't know which end of the whisk to hold.
She gave herself a shake. She was a married womanâ¦not that she was wearing her rings. She never did when she worked. Would he take that as a hint? She should be sensible and put them on before he got here, but they were nice and safe in her handbag.
Meagan went back into the kitchen and plated up the two mains. It was a waste of food when neither would get fully eaten, but she couldn't show the owner half a meal. He needed to see what people would be paying for.
Her head snapped up at the sound of the front door opening.
Damn it. Fraser was early. Her chef's coat was with her handbag at the front of house, which meant he'd see her in a black tank top and cargo pantsâhardly the image of a professional chef at the top of her game.
“Service,” he called out. His voice sent a shiver through her, and she had to remember he was talking about the food.
She placed a delicate curl of vanilla ice-cream and a shard of praline onto the plate with the oversized truffle, and then carried out the three plates of food. The dessert, a vegetarian main and a beef and pasta main. Dishes that would suit the cooler weather. She concentrated on her steps, not on the man lounging at the table, his legs stretched out and the jacket of his blue pinstripe suit slung over a nearby chair. His white shirtsleeves were rolled up, but his waistcoat was done up. He always looked immaculate.
She looked like a bare-faced housewife.
Double damn it. She should've put on a lick of mascara and a touch of powder. If he hadn't have been early, she would've.
“What have you got for me today?” He didn't move, just glanced at the plates as she put them down.
“These are the substitutions for autumn.” From her back pocket she pulled out the calculations she'd done and she placed them on the table. He never liked to taste the food without knowing the details. He liked all the facts. When it came to money he was smart. But then, he hadn't got to where he was in life by being as dull as a spoon. His wedding ring glinted in the soft lighting. She swallowed, but couldn't take her gaze off his hand. His fingers were beautiful and unmarked. She put her own hands behind her back. They were covered in fine scars from too many years working her way up through the kitchens of too many restaurants.
It was because of Fraser this place was hers.
Fraser pulled the paper toward him. He read through the numbers, his gaze flicking between the meals and the paper. She knew the moment he reached dessert. His dark eyebrows drew a fraction closer.
“Taste it before you complain.” She straightened her shoulders and sucked her stomach in, but there was nothing she could do about the way the extra post-baby kilos had added to her bust and butt. He was here for the food, not the view, she reminded herself. This was business. But she knew that was a lie.
“What is the point in tasting something that breaks the profit margin?”
“By fifty cents.” It was nothingâ¦okay, that wasn't true. “We can put the price of dessert up to cover it.”
“Then people will baulk at the price.”
“Then we take the hit and collect the good gossip.” She'd prepared all the arguments, but expected to lose anyway. She'd never gotten a meal that didn't meet his requirements through, but that didn't stop her from trying occasionally. And this dessert was gorgeous.
He looked up at her. His eyes as blue as his suit. “Use cheaper chocolate or cognac.”
That was a trap. She laughed. “You don't cook with what you wouldn't eat or drink. You should've been here when I made it originally. I've already cut the price.” Her first attempt had been with the end of a four hundred dollar bottle from the bar. She'd known that would never get off the ground, but the taste combination had been a winner. She'd already compromised, now it was his turn. “Taste the dishes before they get cold.”
“Sit and join me, Meagan.”
He used her first name, not Chef. But then, these meetings were never formal. They'd known each other too long for that.
The setting suddenly seemed too intimate for what should be a business meeting. The soft lighting gleamed on the dark wood of the empty tables around them before fading into shadows. The silence of a restaurant that was usually bubbling with conversation reminded her that they were completely alone and no one was expecting either of them to be anywhere but here. The candle flame flickered on the table set for two. It was never just business between them and never had been. She had money now, she should just buy him out, but she hadn't.
“I already know what everything tastes like.” She'd sampled the meals many times as she'd experimented with different things, adjusting the recipe and making sure it could be replicated.
“I like company while eat.” He smiled and her stomach flipped over. It wasn't right that one man could be so smart and good looking.
She sat opposite him, feeling just a little plain compared to his elegance. His watch flashed in the light. Simple yet expensive. Nothing said he was worth millions, or that he had a fancy house in Bellevue Hill, at first glance.
He had the kind of wealth that as a kid growing up in Bendigo she could only dream about. Her parents could never have afforded to eat in a place like Edesia. When they'd come to visit she'd invited them, given them a great table, yet they'd been so out of place. Exactly how she'd been less than a decade ago.
“So, everything else going well?” He took a few bites of the entrée.
“I want to include another local winery. I've already spoken to the owner and made the arrangements.”
Fraser lifted an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He didn't need to. That small move conveyed everything.
“Oh come on, I don't have to run every small thing past you. You have better things to do with your time and I know what I'm doing. This place is a success by any standard.” It was her name that had made it the success, but without his cash it would've never happened.
“And I want to keep it that way. This is the proverbial golden goose.”
Yeah, and she had the bank account to prove it. “Fine. I'll forward you the details of the new winery.”
“We could go and visit.” That smile again.
“Yesâ¦and just how often does your schedule align with mine?”
His smile faltered. “That was harsh.”
It was, but it was also true. “I'll make sure you get some sample bottles.”
He nodded and offered her a forkful of prawn entree. She obligingly took it. There was no need to annoy him; after all, he still needed to approve the menu change.
“I like this, a lot.” But he edged the plate away without finishing the food.
“Good.” She'd known he would.
He moved onto the vegetarian mainâthat wasn't his thing. She had yet to create something meat-free that would dazzle him, but she put that down to him being a man. Beneath that suit was a rugby-loving guy. She tried not to think about what else was under the suit. He nodded his approval but offered no comment, before sampling the pasta and beef dish. He ate a little more of that and she bit back the smile. She knew him too well.
He offered her a bite of the beef. “You should eat some.”
“I've been tasting these meals for the past two weeks. I'm over them.” She wanted to move onto the next thing. The new business venture was never far from her mind. She wondered how his search for a venue was going but didn't ask. One thing at a time. They could talk about Footprint later.
There was that frown again. “You still need to eat.”