“As it should be.”
“But I’ve been called so many hateful, hurtful, horrible things, Camden. All my life, really, but especially since I’ve been running this business. And I don’t get it. Why would anyone call me a cock-sucking cunt on their way out of my kitchen? They’ll never get a letter of recommendation from me for that. And the restaurant community is small. We talk. It’s career suicide to abuse a master chef that way.”
“Not to mention, it just makes them an asshole,” I say, so angry that I want to have just five minutes alone with any asshole who ever spoke to her this way. “You don’t deserve that, Mia. Ever.”
“No, I don’t. But it happens more than you think. So after the last one quit in the middle of his shift and told me that I could bend over and take his dick up my ass before he’d ever follow another order from me again, I decided to not fill the position. I’d rather work myself, eighty hours a week, than put up with that.”
“Honestly, I’d like a list of anyone who’s treated you like that.”
She sighs and wipes her cheeks. “And I can be warm and fuzzy. It just doesn’t belong in the kitchen.”
“Maybe if we’re alone in the kitchen you can be warm and fuzzy,” I suggest and the knot in my stomach loosens when I feel her chuckle against me.
“Maybe.”
“Are you okay?”
She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s been a stressful week, and Mother Nature always makes me mean to people I like.” She whispers a lot under her breath.
“You mean, you have female things happening.”
“Yeah. It ruins everything.”
I hug her tightly and then pull back and smile down at her. “Let’s go to my place. It’s not far from here. I’ll take care of you.”
She blinks rapidly. “Camden, I don’t know if you’re aware what Mother Nature means, but all you have to do is feed me and tell me I’m pretty.”
“I know what it means. We’ll save earth-shattering sex for another day. Trust me.”
She wipes the last of her tears away. “I do. Let’s go.”
“You made me cupcakes,” she says, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She sits up and stares in wonder as I slip a plate of three cupcakes on her lap. “And let me nap.”
I grin and watch as she takes a big bite of the chocolate goodness, then sighs in happiness.
“Oh, these are good.”
“You’re pretty,” I reply and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“You’re good at following directions,” she says and kisses my hand. “Food and compliments are really all I need on a day like today.”
“I’m happy to help. You didn’t sleep well last night.”
She tossed and turned, and when she finally did sleep, it was fitful.
“Neither did you. I think I kicked you at one point.”
“Nowhere important.” I watch her take another bite of her cake. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She shrugs one shoulder and then looks me in the eyes. “I really am okay. I have no complaints at all.”
“But?”
“But this is all a surprise.”
“The cupcakes?”
She laughs and shakes her head no. “You. This. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“What were you expecting?”
“Honestly?”
“Always.”
“Resentment, anger, attitude. All of those would have been normal, given our past. I didn’t expect you to want to start something new.”
“I felt all of those things for a while,” I admit, thinking back on those days just after I found her gone. How angry I was. How I couldn’t stand to live in that apartment after she moved out and I moved back in with Steph for a while. “But it’s been a long time, and we’ve talked a lot of it out. We’re not the same people we were, and I have to tell you, relearning who you are has been pretty great.”
“Were there a lot of women? After me?” Her cheeks flush in embarrassment, but she keeps her chin high. “Maybe I’m hormonal, but I’m curious.”
“There have been some,” I admit and shrug one shoulder, watching as she peels the paper off a cupcake. “Nothing serious. Maybe I compared them to you.”
“That’s not healthy.”
“I don’t think I did it consciously, but no one compared to you, Mia.”
“I think you’re pretty great,” she says, and leans in to kiss me. “I’m glad you’re here, and that Riley stood her ground. I wasn’t very excited when they told me who the celebrity chef was that they wanted me to work with.”
“I’m sure.”
“Mostly, I’d put it all squarely in the past, and I had never mentioned you to any of the girls or my family. Like I said before, I was embarrassed, and I’d moved on. But I think I still carried a lot of shame and anxiety over the way I handled things, and I feel lighter now.”
“Me too,” I reply. “Have you filled them all in now?”
“No.” She finishes her second cupcake and sighs. “Landon and Cami know it all because I just had to talk to someone about it. The others know bits and pieces. We’ll probably have a girls night soon. I’ll drink too much and spill everything, then throw up and all will be right with the world again.”
“Really. Is that what women do?”
“That’s what these women do.”
“Good to know.” I laugh and kiss her forehead. “What would you like to do with the rest of your Sunday?”
“What time is it?”
“Just past one. You napped for a while.”
“Shit,” she mutters and reaches for her phone. “I have to do dinner with my parents tonight. We do it one Sunday every month, and it’s today.”
I quickly rethink my plans for an evening in with lasagna and movies. “When do you have to leave?”
“Around three. Mom and Dad like to eat early. I think it’s a law that older people have to eat dinner before five. Oh, and you’re coming with me.”
“I am? Why?”
Her head jerks up. “You don’t want to go?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, Landon and Cami won’t be there today, so I thought it would be a quiet way for you to meet them. But maybe I’m being dumb. You don’t have to go at all. In fact, forget I said anything.”
I cover her mouth with mine, effectively shutting her up.
“I will go with you.”
“Is it weird?”
“No. I told you, this isn’t just about sex. I’d like to meet your parents.”
“Okay.” She nods and texts her mother. “I’m letting her know that I’m bringing a man. You do know that because they’re old fashioned, and because they’re my parents, my mother will have the wedding planned before we leave.”
“That’s convenient.” I bark out a laugh when she stares at me in horror. “It’ll be fun. I’m quite charming when I meet new people.”
“This might just make you run back to L.A.”
“I doubt it.” I kiss her again and she wiggles away, stands, and finger-combs her hair.
“I have to get ready.”
“You look fine to me.”
“I have to go home and change my clothes.”
“Let’s go. We’ll just take one car.”
“You’re a bit bossy.”
“Hello, pot.”
She laughs and accepts my hand, letting me lead her out to my car. “Get used to it.”
“So, where are you from, Camden?” Mia’s mom asks. The four of us are seated around the table in Mia’s parents’ home. They’re polite, and I can tell by the glint in their eyes that they’re very interested in what my intentions are with their daughter.
Not that I can tell them that. I haven’t even told Mia that.
“Kirkland, just outside of Seattle.”
“Nice area,” her father says.
We’ve spent the past hour talking about television, being a chef, and how pretty Mia was as a baby. The latter much to Mia??
?s dismay.
“What Mia needs is a nice man to settle down with,” Mrs. Palazzo says, making Mia’s eyes go wider than I’ve ever seen them.
“Mother!”
“It’s the truth,” her dad says. “You should get married and have babies. You’re not getting any younger, and you have the hips for it. You would give us plenty of grandchildren.”
“I sure wish the floor would open up and swallow me now,” Mia says, pinching the bridge of her nose. I can’t help it. All I can do is sit back in my seat and laugh.
“Well, I mean, does Mia come with a dowry?” I ask, unable to keep from smiling when Mia glares daggers at me. Her father’s eyes narrow, as if he’s considering it.
“I’m sure we could come up with a mutually beneficial agreement.”
“Mom.”
“He’s kidding,” her mother says, but Mia shakes her head no.
“He’s not kidding. Make it stop.”
“We are certainly not arranging for Mia to have a dowry,” she says sternly.
“I’m completely kidding,” I add, holding my hands up in surrender. “Mia doesn’t need a dowry.”
Her father almost pouts as he takes a bite of his garlic bread.
“I see where Mia gets her talent for cooking. This is delicious.”
“I like him,” Mrs. Palazzo says with a nod. “Mia, come help me with dessert.”
“If you’re not here when I get back, I totally understand,” Mia says. “I had no idea that my parents would actually try to talk you into marrying me.”
“I’m fine,” I reply honestly. “Go get us dessert.”
She glares at her father. “Be nice.”
When Mia and her mother are in the kitchen, Mr. Palazzo smiles at me with a shrug. “It’s fun to rile her up.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Of course her mother and I want her to find a special man. We want many grandchildren. But the most important thing is that Mia finds someone worthy of her.”
“I don’t know if that man exists,” I reply. “She’s a special woman.”
“Yes. She is. Recognizing that is the most important first step. I can see that you’re smitten with my girl.”
“She’s a special woman,” I repeat just as his telephone rings.
“Excuse me.”
He walks out of the room, and I can hear Mia and her mother talking in the kitchen.
“I made you a sugar-free option.” It’s her mother’s voice.
“Why would you do that?”
“In case you’re giving up sugar.”
“I never said I was giving up sugar.”
There’s a sigh.
“Also, why in the name of all that’s holy would Dad say that I have birthing hips?”
I grin, not at all ashamed that I’m listening in.
“Maybe because you do,” her mother says. “It’s okay, Mia. Having children is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Oh Lord,” Mia mutters. “I don’t think Camden cares that I have hips.”
Doesn’t give even one fuck.
“Of course not,” her mother says. “He’s clearly very taken with you.”
“And he’s not Italian,” Mia says.
“Sorry, I had to take that,” her father says as he joins me. A moment later, the ladies come out with a delicious-looking tiramisu.
The rest of the dinner is much of the same conversation, and once the dishes are finished, Mia takes my hand and announces that we need to leave.
“Thank you for coming,” her mother says as she gives us each a kiss on the cheek. “I hope we get to see you again, Camden.”
Mia rushes me out of the house and down to my car, and after we’ve pulled away from the curb, she lets out a long, painful sigh.
“That didn’t go well,” she says.
“Why not?”
“I mean, I knew that they’d drop hints about marriage. I’m their only daughter and they’re convinced that my biological clock is ticking. I get that. But they acted as if I’ve never introduced them to a man before. It’s like, they’re shocked that I snagged a date, so they’re going to drill it home that they want me married. STAT.
“And that’s just insulting. This is the twenty-first century.”
“They love you,” I reply and take her hand in mine, kissing her knuckles. “They were pretty obvious, but it wasn’t in a malicious way. They want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“Good. That’s all they need.”
“We clearly weren’t at the same dinner. I’m sorry that it was so embarrassing. I shouldn’t have invited you.”
“Look at me.” She complies. “Do I look angry or embarrassed?”
“No. Why is that?”
“Because I’m neither of those things. They are loving parents. Trust me, just feel happy that you have parents to fuss over you.”
“I’m sorry,” she says immediately. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It just made me incredibly uncomfortable.”
“I can see that. But I’m fine, so let it roll off your back. It’s not a big deal.”
She nods and looks out the passenger window.
“I think I’ll go home tonight,” she says softly.
“We can stay at your place.”
“Maybe I’ll go alone.”
I glance at her. “Why?”
“We start filming tomorrow, and I don’t feel as good as I could. It might just be better if we spend tonight apart and regroup.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
She swallows hard and then nods, putting on a brave smile. “Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t.” I pull up to my rental house and turn to face her. “I don’t know where this is coming from. I suspect you’re still feeling embarrassed, and I’m going to say this one last time. Your parents are fine. I thought it was funny. I’m not here because they made me feel sorry for you.”
She winces.
“I’m here because I think you’re badass and I like who I am when I’m with you. So if you want to stay at your place tonight, that’s fine. But you won’t be staying alone.”
She’s quiet for a moment and then she licks her lips and meets my gaze. “Pack a bag.”
Chapter Nine
~Mia~
There’s a woman with a makeup brush standing to my left. “I don’t need any more makeup.”
“You do,” she insists. “Just some powder so the lights don’t make you shiny.”
I roll my eyes and stand still as she dusts my face for the fourth time in an hour.
“Are we ready?” Trevor asks us.
“Ready.” I nod and take a deep breath. I don’t love being in front of the camera, but I’m getting better at it.
Camden leans in and whispers in my ear, “You look so fucking sexy. You’ve got this.”
I glance up at him, smirk, and bump him with my hip, making him chuckle and walk back to his workstation.
“Action.”
“Don’t forget,” I begin and check the oil on the stovetop. “You don’t want the oil to be too hot. It will catch on fire.”
“Just like it did during rehearsal,” Camden adds with a wink.
“Yeah, Camden set the place on fire.” I laugh and gently set my chicken in the hot oil.
“It wasn’t me,” he says, shaking his head, also placing his chicken in his own skillet.
I walk over to pull some oregano out of the cupboard, but it’s too high for me. As always. Trevor had a step stool brought in, but I’m feeling particularly flirty today, so I set it aside and look at Camden.
“I could use some help.”
“Of course.” He reaches up for the herb and hands it to me. “Need anything else?”
“Not right now.”
He nods and returns to his skillet and I wink at the camera. “Here’s a good rule to have in your kitchen: Never use a step stool when there’s a perfectly capable, tall man in the kitchen with you.”
“I see. You??
?re just using me.” Camden laughs and points out his technique for deciding when the chicken is done to the camera.
We spend the next thirty minutes like this, playfully bantering and cooking. Frankly, it’s the most fun I’ve had in a kitchen in a long time.
Well, when sex wasn’t involved.
“Now, we’re going to ask the crew to come over here to give our dishes a taste and decide on a winner.”
A cameraman, a sound person, and the makeup artist all gather around and take bites off our plates.
“Camden’s wins for me.”
“No, Mia’s chicken is more tender.”
We all stare at the makeup artist in anticipation. She grins. “Camden can cook for me any time.”
And now I want to kick her in the vag, but I just smile and shake Camden’s hand.
“Looks like we have a winner,” I say and shrug at the camera. “If you want any of these recipes, you can find them on our home page on the Best Bites TV website. Take care, everyone.”
“Cut.” Trevor walks over, a wide smile on his handsome face, and pushes his glasses up his nose. “That was fantastic, you two. I don’t even think we need to reshoot it.”
“You’re happy with one take?” Camden asks in surprise.
“I am. You were professional, but a little flirty, and there were no snafus with the food. We’ll be back here again tomorrow morning to film the dessert course.”
“Why are we doing them out of order?” I ask.
“Because Riley’s craving sugar.” He winks at us and turns away. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
I pull my hair up in a messy knot on the top of my head and sigh. “I need to wash this crap off my face. I don’t want it to melt into the food today.”
“That’s disgusting,” Camden says, wrinkling his nose. “Do you need anything?”
He’s always asking me if I need anything, or want him to do something. It’s sweet, and not something I’m used to.
“I don’t think so. I’m going to head into the restaurant for the day.”
“I have a couple of calls to make. I can come help this afternoon.”
“Actually, my other chef hasn’t called out yet, so I’ll have plenty of help. Take the day off.”