Page 14 of The Billionaire & the Virgin Chef
“Wow.”
“Good?” Iask.
“Delicious. Thanks for the sample. There was no doubt in my mind that it’d be anything but. The menu last night was a hit, which is a pretty big accomplishment for such a pickycrowd.”
“My head chef prefers to call itdiscerning.”
“However you call it, the guests you served happen to have high expectations, and your team managed to impress them all. I’m Dylan, by theway.”
“EmilyFields.”
I catch the smile that rises on his face, as well as the deep dimple on one cheek, and quickly return my gaze to the saucepans. If I keep looking at this man, there are sure to be more features I’ll find myself ogling at on his chiseled face and ripped body under that businesssuit.
“You give everyone your full name when you meetthem?”
“I have my reasons,” I say, but don’t go into heartbreaking details. “It’s mostly force ofhabit.”
“Interesting.”
“Knowing someone’s full name can be a lifesaver. What’s your lastname?”
“Worthington.”
Oh crap. I’m sure he notices my eyes as they widen. I study his features more closely, searching for a resemblance. “Are you related to Diane Worthington, the exec who helped organize last night’sevent?”
His arms fold at his waist. He comes to stand beside me. “Why do youask?”
“She might be a new client of mine. It’s for a catering job a few weeks fromnow.”
“To answer your question, that would be a yes. Congrats and good luck with thejob.”
“Thanks. Anytips?”
“Keep your cool under pressure. Under-promise, over-deliver, and be reallyearly.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled about being related toher.”
“We don’t get to choose our parents, and sadly, not all of us are lucky to have the nurturingones.”
The temptation to tell him he’s lucky to have a parent who’s alive at all is at the tip of my tongue, but I manage to keep it to myself. No point pissing off my first client’s kid. “She’s your mom?” I ask instead. “She seemednice.”
“That’s probably the kindest thing anyone I know has said abouther.”
“Really? I mean, I can’t claim to know anything at all about her after one interaction, but she didn’t seem that bad. Sure, she’s a little reserved, and maybe not the type to wear her emotions on her sleeves,but—”
He cuts me off with, “Diane Worthington doesn’t have emotions.” He smiles and that dimple sends me reeling again. “But you know what? The last thing I want to do right now is spend the few remaining minutes of my lunch hour talking about anything or anyone butyou.”
I hear the unfamiliar girlish giggle I let out. Jeez, that was me? I swear to God I’ve never sounded that way. I don’t want to admit that just the look he gives me has caused my cheeks to heat up and butterflies to fill my lowerbelly.
“So, you’re Dahlia’s friend. What are you, roommates? Or do you go to the samecollege?”
“Both actually. Goodguess.”
“I figured you couldn’t be from the same town. Your accent sounds morelocal.”
“You’re right. I grew up less than an hour’s drive from here. I’m from NewJersey.”
“Nice. And you’re achef?”
