Worth the Risk (2 page)

Lexi groaned inwardly as Brad Westcott described the two rounds of the contest. Each school would have a winner; then the winners would compete in a final round for the grand prize. She could just imagine the hours Amber would spend in the kitchen.

“Who'll judge?” Amber wanted to know.

“Chefs from restaurants in the area,” replied Brad. “They'll be looking for something different…unique. A dessert that's healthy and lower in calories.”

“They'll taste like…yuck,” protested one of the boys.

Just then the timer went off, signaling the truffles were ready to come out of the refrigerator. The leader of each team went to retrieve their cookie sheet. Naturally, Amber was a leader. She proudly displayed the collection of quarter-size brown truffles to her teammates.

“Amber's a natural cook,” commented Mrs. Geffen. “You can teach the basics but there's a certain flair some people have that others lack.”

Lexi couldn't help saying, “I just wish she was as interested in her other subjects as she is in cooking.”

“Her grades are average,” Mrs. Geffen said quietly. “Maybe you expect too much.”

“I want her to have the opportunity to go to college.”

The teacher looked thoughtful for a moment. “Amber might do better to attend junior college first.”

Lexi didn't want to disagree with Amber's teacher, but she believed that if her sister applied herself, she could be in advance-placement classes. Lexi was afraid that junior college might be too much like high school and Amber would become bored, drop out and take any job she could get.

“Speaking of school,” Mrs. Geffen said, “how are you doing?”

“Very well. I'll complete my master's in business administration soon, and this summer I'll prepare to take the CPA exam in the fall. I need to get a part-time job in an accounting department. Firms hire grad students and let them work until they pass the exam. I'll start interviewing next week.”

“That's fabulous,” Mrs. Geffen said. “You've worked really hard.”

Lexi watched as the class devoured the chocolate truffles they'd made. Even Amber ate both of hers, knowing her blood sugar level would spike. Did she engage in such risky behavior to provoke Lexi or because she couldn't resist sweets?

“You rolled those truffles in cocoa powder,” Brad said, raising his voice to get their attention. “Does anyone know where cocoa powder comes from?”

That was a great question, Lexi thought. A lot of kids believed food came from a package in the supermarket. Amber's class had learned about planting and harvesting in the Recipe for Success program back in the fourth grade.

“It's ground-up chocolate,” called out one of the girls. “Like from a Hershey bar.”

Brad chuckled, a deep masculine sound that took Lexi by surprise. It made her want to laugh along with him. For some reason she hadn't expected the chef to have a sense of humor. “Not exactly, but you're on the right track.”

Amber was waving her hand furiously. Brad nodded at her.

“Cocoa powder comes from cocoa beans, not from a candy bar. Candy bars are made from cocoa.”

“What does a cocoa bean look like?” Brad asked.

“Like a coffee bean… I think,” Amber replied.

Lexi silently admitted that's what she thought, too. She'd seen pictures but never actually held a cocoa bean.

He pulled a foot-long yellow pod out of a shopping bag. “This is where chocolate comes from. Before it's processed it grows on trees in warm, wet places in Africa and South America.

“You open the pod.” He demonstrated by splitting the plant with his pocketknife. “Inside are the smaller pods that make up the cocoa that becomes chocolate when processed.”

“Who do you think was the first European to see cocoa beans?” Mrs. Geffen asked the class.

No one had an answer and Lexi wasn't sure she knew. She guessed it must have been one of the Spanish explorers.

“Who discovered America?” Brad asked.

“Columbus—1492!” a boy shouted.

“That's right. Later he met some natives who had cocoa beans in their canoe. He thought they were a new type of almond because no one in Europe had ever tasted chocolate.”

“Get out!” someone cried.

“Seriously,” Brad responded. “Columbus didn't taste it either. The Spanish conquistadors tried it in 1519 when it was served to Montezuma as a drink. That's over twenty years after Columbus saw it.”

Interesting, Lexi thought. The students had given him their full attention. Brad Westcott knew the right buttons to push: money, girls, television, chocolate.

“The Aztecs used cocoa beans as a form of money,” added Mrs. Geffen.

“When chocolate was taken to Europe, it instantly became popular,” Brad explained.

This was the best demonstration she'd seen, Lexi decided. The kids were so animated, so interested. They'd really learned something today.

“The truffles you made are actually low-calorie treats,” Brad told them. “The recipe I used cuts down on the fat and sugar but still tastes good.”

From the low buzz that hummed through the group, this was a surprise to the students.

“That's what I'm looking for in the contest,” Brad said. “We want desserts that taste great and are also healthy for us.”

Lexi endorsed the idea of healthy desserts, but she still didn't want Amber spending hours in the kitchen for a contest.

The bell rang, signaling the class was over. “Clean up your workstation before you leave,” instructed Mrs. Geffen.

Most of the students hastily gathered the butcher paper and wiped down the tables, then stampeded toward the door. But a few hung around to talk to the chef while the monitors washed and put away the cooking utensils.

Amber charged up to Lexi, her face flushed with excitement. “I'm going to enter that contest.”

Now was not the time to have a discussion about her grades and the work she was responsible for in the garden.

“I'm sure you'll come up with a really unusual dessert,” Mrs. Geffen said.

Lexi tried for a smile, but didn't quite manage. She reminded herself that Amber needed to build self-esteem when it came to schoolwork. The culinary arts class would earn her a good grade. It would probably be the only A she received, but it might also encourage her to pay more attention to her other classes.

“I'm gonna enter the contest,” Amber informed the chef as he walked up to them.

Brad smiled. “That's great! I'll look forward to tasting your dessert.”

Lexi had to admit the guy was charming. Too charming. No doubt Amber would be talking about him for days. She was going through a boy-crazy stage.

“Are you going to be a judge?” Lexi asked Brad.

Brad turned to her with a captivating smile. “Actually, the chefs from the Chefs' Association are judging, but I'll want to taste the winning recipe.”

“Brad, this is Alexis Morrison,” Mrs. Geffen said. “She's Amber's older sister. She helps me on the days we're preparing food.” The teacher turned to Mrs. Zamora and introduced her as well.

“Everyone calls her Lexi,” Amber said.

An early warning signal from Lexi's brain said to get away from this man before Amber was even more intrigued. Lexi had to admit that even she was conscious of his virile appeal. A young girl would find him irresistible.

“I'm going to win the contest,” her sister assured Brad before Lexi could drag her away.

Brad smiled encouragingly. “If you win, you'll be up against students from all the other middle schools in the final round.”

“Not a problem,” Amber assured him with her usual confidence.

“Lexi owns City Seeds,” Mrs. Geffen said.

Lexi stifled a groan. “Mr. Westcott has probably never heard of us.”

“Please, call me Brad,” he responded as he gazed at her with intriguing blue eyes. “I've seen City Seeds' produce. You specialize in baby vegetables, right?”

“And upscale greens,” Amber answered for her. “I help grow them.”

“Really?” Brad's assessing glance stayed on Lexi. “My sous-chef is in charge of purchasing our produce.”

“Do you use baby vegetables?” Lexi asked. They were two or three times more costly than regular ones.

“We haven't, but you never know. Our menu is always changing.”

“Thanks for the demo,” Mrs. Geffen said. “My students really enjoyed it.”

Lexi nodded her agreement, then nudged Amber. “Time to go.” She turned to Mrs. Geffen. “I'll be back next week.”

“Thanks for your help,” the teacher said as Lexi walked away, Amber in tow.

“That was, like, so mean,” Amber said once they were out in the hall. “I wanted to talk to Brad. Get some hints about how to win the contest.”

“I have a paper due,” Lexi told her. “And before I even begin, I have to water and weed.”

“Whatever,” Amber replied with an exasperated sigh.

 

Brad Westcott watched the attractive brunette walk away. He'd noticed her the minute she'd walked into the room. She looked just like her sister. Who would have thought Lexi Morrison owned City Seeds? Brad wasn't sure who he had expected to own the premier local produce company, but someone so young or so pretty.

“Did Lexi start City Seeds herself?” he asked Mrs. Geffen.

“Her aunt had a backyard garden. The girls came to live with her after their parents were killed in an automobile accident.”

How terrible, Brad thought with a pang of sympathy. His own youth had been difficult, but both his parents had loved him, and he'd always had them for support.

“Lexi's aunt sold produce at the local farmer's market, and Lexi noticed baby vegetables brought a higher price,” put in Mrs. Zamora.

Enterprising, Brad thought.

“She did all that while getting straight A's and a scholarship to the University of Houston.” The teacher smiled proudly as if Lexi were her own child. “She's about to get her master's degree in business administration. Then she'll take the CPA exam.”

“Impressive,” Brad said and he meant it. Not many people could juggle so much at once. No wonder she'd been in a hurry to leave.

He left the school and drove to Black Jack's. Although he had three restaurants in the Houston area, he concentrated on this one. It was the largest and most profitable.

Lexi Morrison drifted out of his thoughts as he strode through the back door. As usual, the kitchen was controlled chaos. Slabs of beef ribs were smoking and huge pots of barbecued beans simmered on the industrial-size stoves.

“Hey, Brad,” called Charmayne Collins, the pastry chef. “How was the demo?” She was piping whipped cream around a tiramisu mousse.

“Great,” he replied. “The kids seemed to enjoy it.” An image of Lexi Morrison flashed across his mind. “Where's Allen?”

Charmayne kept her eyes on the ceramic dish in front of her. “He's not here.”

Brad stopped and spun around, nearly bumping into a waiter carrying a tray. “What? Where is he? Did something happen?”

It was late in the afternoon. The sous-chef should have started preparations for the evening crowd. If the assistant chef hadn't stepped up, Brad would have to hustle or every dinner would be late tonight.

“I don't know what happened to Allen,” Charmayne told him. “He spoke with Trevor.”

There was an undertone in her voice that he didn't like. Something was wrong. He charged across the busy kitchen and into the bar area, where Trevor, the head mixologist, was setting up for the evening rush.

Just when bartenders became mixologists, Brad couldn't say, but they did deserve the more impressive title. The bar was the cash cow of most restaurants and Black Jack's was no exception. Like most mixologists in successful bars, Trevor had created his own specialty, the snakebite.

“Where's Allen?” he asked the short fireplug of a man.

Trevor looked up and said, “He quit. There's a message in your office. He took the job as executive chef at Valentino's.”

The air left Brad's lungs in a dizzying rush. “Without giving me notice?”

Trevor shrugged one shoulder. “Allen told you more than once that he wanted to move up.”

“True,” Brad conceded. He was Black Jack's executive chef and didn't intend to give up the position. Since his other restaurants already had executive chefs, he didn't have anywhere to move Allen. “I assumed he would have given me more notice.”

Trevor shrugged again in his laid-back way. “The position came up unexpectedly and they needed him ASAP. They offered him a bundle.”

Unbelievable, Brad thought. He was going to have to do the work of two people until he could find another sous-chef.

Lexi walked through the front door of her house, her new briefcase under her arm. She'd just interviewed at a fourth accounting firm. Another cube farm, she thought. She might as well become a factory worker. Calculating people's taxes wasn't what she'd had in mind when she started her MBA, but in this weak economy, it seemed to be where the jobs were.

Once she'd gained some experience to add to her résumé, she could look for a smaller firm.

“Amber,” she called when she didn't see her sister at the dining room table doing homework.

The delicious scent of chocolate hung in the air. Lexi wasn't surprised. Since Brad Westcott had announced his dessert contest, Amber had been obsessed with creating a winning recipe. She tried to hide her efforts by meticulously cleaning up after herself and donating the “experiments” to the senior center nearby, but Lexi wasn't fooled. The telltale scent of baked goods was impossible to hide.

Lexi changed into work clothes and went out into the garden. Spring was here, but heat shimmered up from the ground in visible waves as if it were the middle of summer. Netting shaded the more sensitive plants, but everything desperately needed water.

Naturally, Amber had been too busy baking to water the plants. Baby vegetables were very sensitive. They could easily wilt in the scorching heat even though they were shaded. Once a baby veggie flopped over, there was no reviving it. Lexi uncoiled the soaking hoses from their bins and placed them so they would slowly fill the dry trenches that snaked through the garden.

The yard wasn't big compared to a real farm, but it was large for the area and entirely devoted to gardening except for a small locked shed that held the equipment. In this area of Houston, what wasn't locked up was stolen.

Even the gates to the backyard had industrial padlocks on them. The neighborhood children weren't inclined to steal the vegetables, but they'd been known to tear up the garden beds just for fun.

Three hours later, she left her muddy sneakers on the back porch and went into the house. Still no sign of Amber. She was probably kicking back at a friend's or had taken the bus to the mall.

What would become of the garden when Lexi found a job at an accounting firm? She certainly couldn't trust Amber to run the operation alone. Chefs at several of the most prominent restaurants in the city counted on City Seeds' produce.

Lexi would need to find an assistant. She thought about Urban Plots, a community garden several blocks away. Local people planted and tended their own spaces in a lot provided by the city. Maybe someone there would want to make some extra money by helping Amber.

The front door suddenly burst open, bringing with it a gust of heat. Amber rushed into the house. “I've got it! I've got it!” she shouted.

Her sister was so excited that Lexi hated to scold her for not having watered the garden. It seemed lately that all they did was argue.

“What have you got?” Lexi asked with all the patience her tired body could muster.

“I know what I'm going to bake for the contest.” Amber collapsed onto the sofa that had been ancient years ago when they'd come to live with Aunt Callie. She swung her feet up onto the scarred coffee table. “A to-die-for chocolate-raspberry tart. I made it for the third time today and everyone at the senior center said it was the best. A real winner.”

Lexi doubted the seniors would criticize a free treat, but she had to admit Amber was a good cook.

“Don't forget this is just the first round. If—and it's a big if—you win, then you'll have to compete against the winners from all the other middle schools.”

“I know,” Amber replied with her usual self-confidence. “I'll invent something new for that round.”

Swell, Lexi thought. More baking, more sampling. Too many sweets for a diabetic. “Have you tested your blood sugar?”

Amber swung her feet to the floor. “All right. All right. I'll test, but I didn't have a piece of the tart. I relied on people to tell me if it was good.” She stomped off toward her bedroom, presumably to test her blood sugar. Lexi resisted the temptation to follow her. Amber had been giving herself insulin long enough to be able to do it on her own. Having Lexi hover over her only made Amber more difficult.

In a few minutes, Amber reappeared. “While I was waiting for the tart to bake, I made a chicken salad for dinner. The kind with Granny Smith apples that you like.”

Lexi thanked her sister. She could hardly berate her for not watering the plants now.

“How did your interview go?”

Lexi was amazed Amber remembered that she'd had one. She rarely paid attention to anything unless she was directly involved.

“Okay, I guess.”

“What do you mean—you guess?”

“They didn't offer me a job on the spot, but they may. I'm just not sure I want to work there. Everyone's jammed in like cigars in a box.”

“What else can you do until you take the CPA exam?”

“Good question,” Lexi admitted. “Not much. Keep City Seeds going and continue to work at Millard's.”

Millard's Upholstery was a small business nearby where Lexi did the payroll as a part-time job. There was no chance to move up in the family-run business, so it made sense to join a large CPA firm until she passed the exam. It would also pay better.

“It sounds as bad as school,” Amber complained. “At least you're earning money. What use is geometry and history?”

“It'll help you get into college.” They'd been down this road too many times to count.

“So I can end up like you, with a master's and nothing interesting to do with it?”

Lexi hoped the anger that surged inside her didn't register on her face. Amber was baiting her, and reacting would just encourage her sister. She repeated her usual explanation. “A college degree will give you more options. If you settle for being a cook without a college education, you may end up slinging hash at a drive-through fast-food joint. Would you like that?”

“Maybe,” Amber huffed.

 

Brad hesitated outside the old Victorian house. This couldn't be City Seeds. The home was in one of Houston's oldest areas. It was in the DMZ between a lower-middle-class district and a neighborhood overrun by gangs and the homeless. Once the neighborhood had belonged to the city's elite, but over time people had moved to more desirable enclaves. Most of the homes had subsequently been split up to accommodate multiple families.

He checked the address on the note he'd written. This was the right place. He assumed its large backyard was intact or there wouldn't be room for a garden.

When he rang the bell, he heard a girl yell that she would get it. Amber, he guessed. The door swung open.

“Oh my gosh!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

Before Brad could answer, Lexi appeared in cutoffs and a faded navy blue T-shirt. A sexy outfit, but he doubted she realized it.

“Mr. Westcott?” she said, obviously not thrilled to see him.

Lexi had been on his mind a lot since he'd met her, but he'd been so busy at work that he hadn't found a chance to see her again. Finally he'd hired another sous-chef, a woman this time.

“I've heard such good things about City Seeds that I thought I'd come see for myself.”

“That's great,” gushed Amber, but Lexi didn't look too pleased. “I've come up with a winner of a dessert for the contest.”

“Really?” It took a second for him to recall that the contest's preliminary round was next week. “That's wonderful.”

Lexi moved around her younger sister. “What sort of vegetables are you interested in?”

Brad shrugged. “I'm not sure. I'm creating several new dishes for the summer menu.”

“This way,” Lexi said as she walked by him.

They headed down the front steps then followed a stone path around the old Victorian. Amber trailed behind them. He watched Lexi move and decided she was one of those women who could be provocative without trying. Something he found extremely appealing.

Lexi unlocked a metal gate then swung it open to reveal a lush backyard full of plants and vines. There didn't seem to be an inch that wasn't under cultivation. Rows and rows of plants covered the ground. Long containers were set on stepped racks that lined the fence, creating space where there was very little. Ingenious, he thought.

“We grow a lot of unusual lettuce,” Amber told him.

“I can see that,” Brad replied, a little ashamed he didn't recognize the varieties.

“Some of these greens are native to Asia,” Lexi said.

“Really?” Brad was impressed. Houston had a sizable population of Asians. He had been experimenting with some Chinese and Thai dishes in his spare time.

“You should taste this.” Lexi picked a curly red leaf off a plant and handed it to him. Brad didn't particularly like lettuce. He wasn't a salad kind of guy, but he took it anyway. He popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“Good, really good,” he said, and he meant it. The lettuce had a slight taste of nuts.

“You could design a special summer salad with red wave lettuce,” Amber said.

“True.”

“It also goes great with chicken,” she added.

“I'm sure I can come up with something,” Brad said. “May I buy a box of red wave lettuce?” That would give him a dozen heads to use. If he created a luncheon special, he'd go through that much in a weekend.

“Yes, but there's a limited supply,” Lexi responded.

“Great,” he said. He could use the exclusive aspect to promote the dish.

“I'll box it up for you.”

“How much per head?” Brad asked, and almost choked when she told him the price. The new salad would cost as much as a seafood salad.

“I'm dying to see how you use our lettuce,” Amber said.

Lexi was filling a wax-coated box with lettuce that she was pulling directly from the ground.

“Do you have anything else that you think might work with it?” he asked.

Lexi raised her head and looked at him, but it was Amber who answered.

“What about beets? The yellow variety is incredibly sweet. Everyone loves them. They serve them as a side dish at Marché.”

That got him. Marché was one of his chief competitors. Their food appealed to an upscale crowd that was willing to spend a lot of money dining out. “That's a possibility. Could I try some?”

“I'm not sure we have enough,” Lexi responded. “Marché buys almost all the specialty beets we grow.”

“Is that right?”

Again Amber answered for her sister. “Most of what we grow is already promised to restaurants who've been buying from us for years.”

“I see.” Why hadn't he known more about City Seeds? Obviously, letting his sous-chef buy all the produce had been a mistake. He'd lost touch with the local market.

“We do have an Asian type of baby squash that might work,” Lexi suggested.

“Really?”

“They're over here.” She left the half-full box of lettuce and walked across the yard to a small hothouse. “I grow them hydroponically.”

Lexi plucked a small green squash the size of his little finger off a vine growing from a cylinder of water. At the top of the baby squash was a bright orange bubble-shaped blossom.

Brad bit into the veggie and an unusual savory flavor filled his mouth, unlike any squash he'd ever had. “Wow! This is good.”

“I thought you might like it,” Lexi said with the first smile he'd seen from her.

“I'm going to go with them instead of the beets.”

“Awesome!” squealed Amber. “I can hardly wait to taste your special.”

The girl had more confidence than three kids her age, Brad decided. Lexi was more reserved, but Amber's interest gave him an idea.

“Do you two have plans for lunch on Saturday?” he asked. He really wanted to know about dinner, but decided anyone as attractive as Lexi would have plans for the evening.

“No, we don't,” Amber answered.

Lexi didn't look half as pleased as her sister. She was about to say something, when a horn blared.

“That's my ride.” Amber dashed toward the gate. “See you tonight, Lexi.” She stopped, hand on the gate, then spun around and called out to Brad, “I'm going to win your contest. Count on it!”

Lexi waited until Amber slammed the gate shut. “I hope she doesn't win.”

Her reaction surprised him. “Really, why?”

Lexi hesitated for a moment. “I want her to get a college education. I don't want her slaving over a hot stove only to find out the job's not as glamorous as she thinks.”

“She could do both,” Brad responded, a little shocked at the frustration he detected in her voice.

“Not Amber. She's got a one-track mind. Right now all she can think about is winning that contest and she's neglecting her schoolwork. I want her in summer school, not tagging around after some pastry chef.”

“I wouldn't worry about it,” Brad said, attempting to assure her. “What are the chances she'll win?”

“She's an excellent cook. Baking is Amber's specialty.” Lexi sounded defensive. “And if she loses, she'll be disappointed, crushed.”

Cripes, Brad thought. There was no reasoning with women.

“I have an idea that might solve your problem.”