Page 90 of Culinary Chaos
“No.” Angelica frowned. “I have history with duck, and it’s not a good one.”
Hope snorted. “Do you eat anything?”
“Of course I eat,” Angelica chimed back smartly.
Hope winced. She could see how that could have been taken as an attack. She hadn’t meant it as that, but she couldn’t help herself when she was this stressed. It was too damn hard to control her emotions.
“You don’t eat tomatoes or peppers. You don’t eat duck.”
“I eat tomatoes and peppers,” Angelica fired back. “When they’re cooked properly.” She shot a look over at Hope, her jaw clenching tightly.
Oh, Angelica wasn’t liking the turn of this conversation, was she?
“Are you saying I don’t know how to cook?” Hope’s voice reverberated through the kitchen.
“What?” Angelica stopped slicing the apricot, her hands still. She looked around the room at the film crew and then shook her head. “No. That’s not what I said.”
Suddenly hyperaware of the cameras and the fact that Rex was watching everything go down, Hope tensed sharply. “Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that there are certain foods I don’t like.” Angelica shook her head, that damned curl sliding over her eye again until she shook it off. “Just like I’m sure there’s some you don’t like.”
“I eat everything,” Hope muttered. She moved over to the pot to stir the sugar into the orange juice. She had to stop herself. She was being combative for no reason—well, there was a reason, but Angelica wasn’t the source. It was Henry. It was this damn restaurant. It was the fact that everyone had just walked out on her and left her to fend for herself. It was the filmcrew because they wouldn’t get out of her face. It was Angelica…because Hope couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanting her, feeling her presence all around her.
“Yeah, like hot honey… whatever that is.”
Hope froze. She held the whisk tightly in her fingers and looked over at Angelica. “What did you say?”
“Hot honey.” Angelica stared right back at her. “You said something about that when we first met.”
Hope’s lips parted in surprise. How the hell did Angelica remember that? Of all things for her to remember, of all conversations for them to have had, that very first one was what Angelica remembered? God, she’d been such an idiot that day. Flirting outrageously because she’d been so damn nervous and pent up with anxiety over being so fucking late for the photo shoot.
“Hope?” Angelica asked.
“Nothing,” Hope mumbled going back to stirring the sauce for reduction.
Ignoring Angelica’s confused look, Hope pulled out the dried cherries and raisins and dropped them into the sauce. She turned away from Angelica and started to pull the spices that she would need. She couldn’t look at Angelica right now. She couldn’t look at anyone in the room because they would see the surprise and arousal written all over her face.
She set everything down and then bent to check the duck breasts roasting in the oven. The thermometer at least still worked. But when she read it, she stilled.
“Damn it.”
“What?” Angelica asked, moving to bend down with Hope.
Hope slammed the oven door shut and cranked up the temperature. She had to get it higher. “It’s not holding temp again.”
“You ordered the new oven, right?”
“Yes.” Hope rolled her eyes. “But they don’t just appear out of thin air, Angel. They take time to arrive and then be installed.”
“I know that,” Angelica hissed. “I don’t need the attitude.”
“Attitude?” Hope squeaked the word out. “I’ve been slaving away in this kitchen for days trying to get it up to par, and you know what? It’s impossible. The oven’s broken. Two of the burners on the stove don’t work. The freezer won’t hold temp, so I had to throw out all the food in there because who knows what condition it was kept in. This restaurant came straight from the bowels of hell. I’m serious. No one should ever eat here again.”
Angelica held still, focusing entirely on Hope as she finished her rant, her hands thrown wildly around her. The silence between them was strong, but it wasn’t filled with intensity like it had been before. This time there was relief there.
“Feel better?” Angelica asked.
Hope blew out a breath and rubbed her nose on her bicep. “A little bit. Yeah.”
