The Billionaire’s Bun In Her Oven - Ellie Rowe Page 0,40

words: what an asshole.

Thing is, an asshole in the abstract I can deal with. I’ve spent my entire life either in kitchens or on TV sets. ‘Assholes’ abound in both worlds.

What drives me crazy is the way he clearly upsets Cynthia. It’s like just the sight of him has transformed her into some wilting violet. What happened to the capable woman from Origin’s kitchen? Where’s the clever lady who pretended to be a waitress to fool me? How can one douchebag unmoor her so thoroughly?

For that matter, how can her parents not see it? Claudia and Leonard seem to find the guy charming. They’re rapt by his inane musings, and humored by his so-called ‘jokes’.

We’re nearing the end of our cocktail hour. I’m sitting beside Cynthia on the couch. Her parents, Cluadia and Leonard, are opposite us on a loveseat while Kyle stands near the fireplace as if he’s holding court. He finishes up yet another ‘amusing’ anecdote about himself, concluding, “Well, to quote Teddy Roosevelt, ‘Walk softly and carry a big stick’.”

Over Leonard and Claudia’s chuckles, I say, “Teddy didn’t actually coin that.”

All eyes swing to me. Kyle’s smile freezes on his face. “Beg your pardon?”

“It’s a common mistake, so don’t feel bad,” I say. “Roosevelt never actually said it. He wrote about it in a letter and attributed it to a West African proverb.” Everyone is staring at me, the unasked question clear on their faces.

“History buff,” I say in explanation as I take a sip of my drink. Even Cynthia is staring.

Kyle curls his lip up at me. “It was my understanding you didn’t even attend college.”

“Well, that’s true. I started working in kitchens when I was sixteen. Barely graduated college, actually. But, I know how to read. I made sure to educate myself about life beyond restaurants. I think it’s important to be a well-rounded person.”

Claudia smiles widely at me. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

“You have no idea, Mrs. Easton. But, I promise you, no nasty ones,” I give her a wink. The lady actually blushes. “How about you, Mr. Easton?” I say, turning my attention to Cynthia’s dad. “You into history?”

“My parents taught me to never question only two things in this world: God and FDR,” Leonard tells me.

“Now, here’s where my love for history and cuisine come together,” I say, leaning forward. “Eleanor Roosevelt modernized the White House kitchen, then instructed her cook to make economic, nutritious meals like the ones housewives were trying to make during the Depression.”

“Oh? How’d that turn out?”

“Notoriously disgusting. Nothing like what we’re about to enjoy, I’m sure.”

Cynthia’s mom blushes again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Cynthia appraising me with a proud look. Quickly, so no one else can see, I gently tap my left knee against Cynthia’s right one. A little gesture that says, ‘I got you, kid.’

Claudia pops out of her chair. “Speaking of kitchens, I do believe dinner is ready to be served!” As she heads out of the living room, she turns back and playfully wags a finger at me. “Now, none of that celebrity chef attitude about my family recipes, understand?”

“Not that I think it’d be warranted, but you needn’t fear,” I reply gallantly. “I’m off-duty. Let me help you.”

“No!” Kyle suddenly shouts, stepping away from the fireplace so boldly, he almost spills his drink. “I’ll help.”

He rushes past me for the kitchen, nearly bowling over Claudia on his way. Suddenly, she calls after him, “Just be careful not to let the dog –”

Too late.

Kyle moves the gate, and, like a bolt of lightning, a tiny cloud of white fur whizzes out of the kitchen. It starts barking up a storm the minute it’s free. The dog leaps at Kyle, letting out tiny — and yet, somehow vicious — yips. He flinches away from the leaping pooch.

Then Zsa Zsa turns her attentions to me. Still yapping, she races right for me.

“Zsa Zsa! No!” Claudia says, bending to try and grab the dog who slips past…

… and leaps happily into my lap, tiny tail wagging.

“Hey, little Zsa Zsa,” I coo.

The dog sits on my thighs and starts rapidly licking my face. I purse my lips to the sloppy puppy kisses.

The whole Easton family stares in wonder at me and my new best friend.

“I’ll be…” mutters Leonard. “That bitch hasn’t liked a man who’s set foot in this house since we got her.”

I shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe I still smell like whatever I made for lunch today.”

“No,” says Claudia, beaming at me and Zsa