grinned. The man hardly ever ate. And when he did, he mostly just picked at the food. He had some nerve lecturing her, when he had such poor eating habits.
"Well, I'm hungry," Chris announced, grabbing his crutches to get to his feet. "So I'll cook."
"Oh, I don't think that's a very good idea," Vincent said calmly and fanned out the flower he'd just fin¬ished making.
"Why not?" Bastien asked. "Terri's cooked for him, Chris can cook for her."
"Look at the man," Vincent said. "So far he's been to the hospital twice in less than a week--once for a toilet falling on him, once for a bee sting. Are you really will¬ing to risk letting him play with fire and sharp objects?"
"Dear Lord," Bastien breathed in horror.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Terri set her half-finished flower down with exasperation. "I'll cook."
"No." Bastien stood abruptly. "I'll cook. How dif¬ficult can it be?"
"I'm thinking takeout would be a good idea," Vin¬cent said as he peered down at the charred mass in the bottom of the pan. He tilted his head to get a differ¬ent perspective and asked, "What was it?"
"Ha, ha," Bastien muttered, dropping the pan in the sink and turning on the tap. It would definitely need soaking to come clean. If it came clean. Perhaps he should just chuck it out, he thought, then pointed out, "It was you who suggested I cook."
"Well, I was trying to do you a favor," Vincent re¬torted. "I was afraid Terri would think you were try¬ing to get her to cook for you. No woman wants to be a replacement housekeeper. Speaking of which, how's the hunt for a new housekeeper going, any¬way? And have you found Mrs. Houlihan yet?"
"I haven't any idea," Bastien admitted. He'd given both problems to Meredith, and he hadn't been keep¬ing up with much lately. It seemed there had been one crisis after another keeping him busy and dis¬tracted. He supposed he should check in with the of¬fice. "What time is it?"
"Almost five."
Bastien nodded as he shucked the oven mitts he'd donned to rescue the burning meal from the oven. Not that he'd managed to save it. He gri¬maced to himself as he recalled leafing quickly through a cookbook and choosing what had seemed simplest: Roast. Throw it in a pan and throw it in the oven. What could be easier? And Bastien had done so--but as the recipe had called for a thawed roast of beef, and he'd only had frozen, he'd upped the temperature a bit. All the way, actually. Then he'd gone back to work on the tissue paper flowers. By the time he'd remembered he was cooking something, the meat was done. Past done. Black on the outside and red on the inside. Disgusting. Bastien saw there was more to cooking than he'd realized.
"How's it going?"
Both he and Vincent glanced toward the door, where Terri stood. She was glancing around curi-ously. "Is that dinner I smell?"
"We're having takeout," Bastien answered, walking past her to stride up the hall. "Order whatever you want. I have to check in at the office. I'll be back di¬rectly to pay."
As Bastien left, Terri raised her eyebrows and turned back to Vincent. "A problem?"
"Bastien found cooking more of a challenge than he expected," Vincent explained and gestured to the sink.
Terri crossed the room and whistled as she peered down at the mess there. A large black chunk, with several smaller black chunks, lay discarded in a pan.
"So, what are you going to order? Chinese? Or pizza?" the actor asked.
Terri shook her head and grinned. "With all the food in this place? I'll whip up something myself and have it done by the time Bastien gets back."
"That a girl! Make him feel inferior," Vincent said lightly. They both laughed, only to pause and glance around in surprise as the elevator buzzer sounded.
Terri followed Bastien's cousin curiously to a kitchen wall panel that was an exact replica of the one in the living room.
"Hmm. Do you know who that is?" he asked, push¬ing the button to bring up an image of the interior of the elevator.
Terri leaned closer for a better look at the man standing by a covered trolley. She started to shake her head, then paused. "Oh, wait! It's probably one of the caterers. I'd forgotten Meredith had arranged for them to bring samples of the wedding menu for us to try."
Vincent nodded and pushed a button. "Yes?" he asked.
"Katelyn's Catering. I have a delivery." "This is your