Page 171 of The Nanny and the Hothead
The young man leaned out the order window and waved to her. She raised her hand as her jaw hit the ground. Beside him was a young woman in a wheelchair buttering slice after slice of bread. She waved to her as well, but she had no idea who this chick was. And then another form appeared, and her heart leaped into her throat.
Twenty-Nine
Charlotte
Holy hot chef!
It was Mitch!
Charlotte couldn’t move. She could barely think.
Could a girl get any more gobsmacked in a day? Probably not!
Mitch caught her eye from the food truck, smiled, then patted the woman in the wheelchair on her shoulder. He leaned in, said something to Erick, then before she could blink, he was striding toward her. The man she feared she might never see again beamed at her, his grin widening with each step.
“Charlotte, you’re here,” he said as a hush fell over the crowd with only a few whispered words peppering the air.
It’s her!
That’s got to be the Charlotte.
What do you think she’ll say?
Does she hold the key to the chef’s heart?
Charlotte ignored the strange whisperings and eyed her hothead chef. “Yes, I’m here. I’m supposed to be here. What are you doing in London?” she blurted.
He looked around. “I’m cooking dinner.”
Was everyone going to be cagey with her today?
“In that,” she exclaimed, pointing to the truck.
“Yeah, it’s a new thing I’m doing. I’m partnering with nonprofit organizations in the US and UK to help troubled teens and people with physical disabilities learn the ropes of running a food truck. We’ll teach them the culinary skills they need, set them up with the right equipment, then help them secure loans to start their own food truck small business.”
Hello, insta-philanthropy!
He’d rattled off a mouthful.
She took a few unsteady steps forward, taking in the entirety of the food truck. From the shiny paint job to the bold lettering to the gleaming stainless-steel kitchen, it was a sight to see.
“You did this in a week?” she asked, wide-eyed.
Mitch came up beside her. “Actually, we did this in three and a half days.”
Three and a half days!
All she’d done in the last three and a half days was take some pictures, board a plane, and gorge on first-class fancy cheese.
“How did you manage to do this?” she asked.
Who was this man? When she’d left him, he’d been an angry hardened hothead. Now he radiated joy.
“It was a team effort,” he began. “Rowen got us set up with the tech we needed. Raz connected me with some community centers and organizations that work with adults with physical handicaps in London. Landon hooked us up with a local band. Ines handled the PR and media blitz. Madelyn cut through the red tape to get the permits and licenses we needed here and in the US. And Louise and Seth are overseeing the educational outreach component and running Mr. Cheesy Forever USA.”
And there it was! Another mouthful of impressive words. There was no doubt he’d put together something phenomenal. But one word rang out louder than the others.
“Seth?” she repeated. “Is it the Seth from your past?”
