Page 97 of The Nanny and the Hothead
Charlotte gasped as surprise flashed in her eyes. They broke apart like teenagers caught necking beneath the bleachers. Wide-eyed and red-cheeked, she smoothed her skirt as he peered out the half-opened driver’s side window and met the gaze of the person who’d changed everything for him.
“I know why you’re here,Mitchell. Don’t try to hide it,” the woman began with a surly smirk.
Mitchell.
And double holy shit!
He was about to find out if they were welcome or not. Yes, Ines had booked the spot. But the woman staring him down could have wanted him there to tell him off, just to send him packing the minute she was done lambasting him. In all honesty, that’s what he deserved.
And that wasn’t the only shitstorm on his plate.
What would have happened had he and Charlotte not been interrupted? He shook his head, working to gain control of himself. He had to be on his A-game.
“And why do you think I’m here, Chef?” he answered, keeping his tone neutral. But something inside of him awakened at the sound of her crusty voice. Despite not knowing if she was about to kick the side of the truck and tell him to scram, he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed going head-to-head with this ball-buster.
She took a step back and glanced down at her pressed chef’s coat with Helping Hands Community Center stitched across the breast pocket. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the tail of her long silver braid over her shoulder, then stilled. She observed him closely. The lines etched at the corners of her eyes deepened, and she silently evaluated him just as she had the first time they’d met. Last he’d seen her, she was the definition of a take-no-shit chef, and time hadn’t changed that. In fact, the woman looked pricklier than ever.
“I’ll tell you what you’re doing here,” she continued. “You came to see for yourself how this cantankerous old gal defies time to keep up her youthful appearance while continuing to prepare impeccable meals for the community.”
Relief flooded his system. She was messing with him. This meant, at least for the moment, she wasn’t about to send them on their merry way.
“Yes, Chef Louise, that’s exactly what I was thinking,” he fired off as a warmth wrapped around him, recalling the familiar cadence of their chef and apprentice exchanges.
“Louise?” Charlotte uttered.
He nodded.
“The Louise in Say Cheese, Louise?” she pressed.
“The one and only,” Louise remarked.
He glanced at the woman, then nodded to Charlotte. “Yeah, the truck is named after her.”
“I hope you’re not planning to sit there lollygagging all day,” Louise snapped. “When I spoke to Ines this morning and agreed to let you park this orange eyesore in my lot, she said you were going to get off your ass and cook for the community—for free because you’re a fancy former TV chef,” the woman added with her usual snark. Without missing a beat, she opened the driver’s side door and waved them out impatiently. She wasn’t mad, though. In fact, he could hear the trace of amusement in her tone. She pointed to the dashboard as he and Charlotte exited the vehicle. “And it appears that you’re finally returning that spatula you stole from me.”
He swiped the utensil, then closed the door. “You gave it to me, Chef, and you know it.”
“I don’t give anything away. You earn it with me,” she replied with a sly grin.
Wasn’t that the truth.
He took in the community center as the memories came flooding back. “I know. I remember.”
“And who is this?” Louise asked, eyeing Charlotte.
“I recognize this young lady, Louise!”
He turned to find Louise’s husband, Ralph Dagby, ambling toward them. Lanky like a retired basketball player and rarely without a grin, the man moved a little slower than he remembered.
“It’s good to see you, Mitch.” Ralph shook his hand, then turned his attention to Charlotte. “Well, hello! We meet again.”
“You know Mitch’s friend?” Louise asked with a crease to her brow and her fist on her hip.
“Remember when I had to head over to the Crystal Creek neighborhood to pick up the donations from the coffee shop? I told you about that woman on the bench.”
Louise sucked in a tight breath and cringed. “The one who was looking up at the sky at airplanes and talking to herself? The one you thought might need urgent psychiatric care?” she answered, giving Charlotte a once-over.
“Yep, this is her,” Ralph confirmed.
