Page 44 of The Revenge Plan

She shook her head.

“It’s the easiest meal you can make. Just throw everything in a dish and go, really.”

She looked around the counter. I had sent Bailey to buy everything we needed. There were three types of cheese, bacon, prime cut mince, a can of tomato sauce and a packet of peas. “With all this? I don’t think it’s that simple. And look,” she turned to the macaroni that was on the boil, “you’ve already started without me.”

“I’m sure you know how to boil. Plus, you don’t have to worry, I’ve placed it on the stove a few moments ago.” She made a face as if to say she didn’t trust me. I chuckled. “Can we concentrate now,” I said to her, “I already had a tough time at work with that racy picture you sent.”

“You were begging like a little toddler; how could I not comply.” Her breasts brushed against my shoulder as she said so. Even through the apron she had, I could feel the hardness of her nipples. Or was it all in my lust-fogged head.

She was so close that it made it harder to focus on teaching her, and also, I wanted her to be closer. She followed me around the kitchen like a child who was so eager to learn something new. It made the teaching fun. The alcohol also made the teaching sexy.

“This smells nice,” she said as I was sautéing the mince. I turned the pan toward her and gave her the wooden spoon. She did as I was doing but she was going a little too fast, “No,” I went behind her and held her hand in mine, “the purpose is to make sure that all the mince is perfectly cooked. Like so,” I stirred along with her until I was sure she got the hang of it. I let go of her hand, but I didn’t step aside. Standing like this together felt nice. It made me want to reach down and kiss her nape which looked too tempting not to kiss. I found my arms making their way around her waist and I did just that. She turned to the side to receive my kiss and moaned. She stepped forward a little, breaking away from my lips, “If you continue to do this, then I’ll burn the food. This smells too good to burn.” I kissed her again and then let her go.

For the next thirty minutes, I showed her how to make the dish. It was getting more difficult the longer we were in the hot kitchen, so close together. We kept bumping into each other and brushing against each other. Our combined tipsiness did little to make things better. I ignored my boner and helped her.

She was an adept learner even though she struggled with doubting herself. She had a great palette too, which I’m sure was honed by the countless five-star meals she had eaten all her life. When I told her to put the casserole into the oven, she looked at me like I had grown another head. “Just place it in the oven, don’t worry.” She took the dish walking painfully slowly, afraid she would spill it and, holding the oven door open, I watched her put it in, “place it in the middle,” I said, “best way to get an even bake.” After she closed the door, I turned the dial to the requisite temperature. She watched eagerly, like a student. “Thirty to forty minutes should do it.”

“That’s imprecise. What if it burns!”

“We’ll take it out when it’s golden brown.”

I went over to the breakfast counter to check my phone. Hailey was still preoccupied with watching the casserole cook in the oven. There were a few messages on mine. Nothing important. Most were about the business and most from my neurotic CFO who always thought the house would fall at any moment. Hailey’s phone chimed. A text message appeared on her phone. I glanced over at Hailey. Her back was to me, I doubt she even heard it, but it was so close I didn’t even need to touch it to see the message that had popped up on screen.

Bryce: how is getting the info going. I need it now.

I felt like I had been hit with a thousand bricks. I shouldn’t be surprised and yet the disappointment was real. I knew that when Hailey came, her family would use her to get information from my company. Damning information. Part of me had thought that she wouldn’t try. She didn’t seem like she was that interested in my business. Save for that one time, I had seen her snooping into my things. Seems like my little wife had been busy. She was happy to help me against her father the same she was happy to use me for her father. The two were at odds with each other. The only good about this was that it served as a reminder not to be fooled with her. I shot a brief text of my own to one of my people. That would settle matters.

???

“It’s so good.” Hailey spoke with her eyes closed, savoring the food. We were sitting at the dining table opposite each other.

“Thanks to you.”

“Oh, please. I didn’t do much.”

“You cooked.”

“Helped.”

“Fine. Helped. But that’s a lot more. I doubt it would have tasted this good if it weren’t for you.”

“Sure,” she smiled, “I added my own little zhuzh to the dish. Is that what you’re going to say next?”

That was what I was going to say next, and I felt caught out when she responded like that. I ate my share. The dish somehow tasted better than I had ever cooked it, even though I had done nothing to change it. It was the same recipe Pierre had taught me all those years ago.

Hailey dropped her fork in a clatter and took a sip of wine, “Tell me more about your time as a chef. We never got to talking more about it.”

“There isn’t much to tell than what I told you before. I was a busboy who later became a cook and then got out when a better job was offered.”

“I was hoping to learn more about you,” she sighed as if she had been truly deprived of some insight into me, “What about your business? You rarely talk about it.”

And there it was. I knew she was going to ask, but I didn’t think it would be so soon, “Aren’t you the daughter of a jeweler? You know what the business is like.”

“Yes, but you trade in all luxury goods. Your company is like a collection of everything rich housewives and rappers wear and drink. Take this wine for instance,” she picked up the bottle and turned the label part toward her, “my father, and certainly not my brother, would never have thought of buying it when it was a dying winery in Italy. Now look at it. It’s a big luxury brand.”

“What’s different about me and your father is that I’m less of a snob than he is.”

“Is that why you’re using musicians as part of your marketing campaign for the jewelry line? My father would never have done that. ‘Rappers cheapen the brand’ is his favorite rhetoric.”

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