Free And He Cooks Too by Barbara Barrett Page A

passion. Food. Ever seen And He Cooks Too ?”
    The women exchanged looks, then shook their heads. “That’s a shame. You made such a wonderful rogue in that play.”
    “Thanks.”
    As soon as Nick finished signing his name, the women grabbed their treasure and hurried back to their table, calling behind them, “Thanks so much, Mr. Coltrane, uh, Nick,” and “Can’t wait to see your next show.”
    “ Wonderful rogue ? I think your fans have you pegged.”
    How did he get out of this? Better work fast on damage control. “My dirty little secret. I was on the stage in a former life.”
    Reese set down her fork and studied him. “Not really so secret, thanks to the Internet. I checked you out before I accepted this job.”
    “You knew?” he asked, his voice catching.
    She gave him a Mona Lisa type smile. “I do my research, Nick.”
    The spicy beef dish he’d just consumed seemed to congeal in his stomach. Had she checked out his cooking credentials also?
    “I can see you on the stage.” She laughed. “Maybe more than behind the stove.”
    Lady, you don’t know how right you are. “Ah, well, cooking’s my new love.”
    “Where did you do your training? The Internet didn’t mention that.”
    Great. She had him. The only way he could think of to deflect this conversation was to play dumb. “Huh?”
    She leaned in, revealing more décolletage. “Cooking school. Which one did you attend?”
    He struggled to come up with a response, but his mind was elsewhere. Mesmerized, he watched as she played a finger around the rim of her margarita glass, picking up stray salt particles. How was a guy supposed to think up a plausible story to explain his origins when his brain was otherwise engaged?
    She touched her fingertip to her lips. Nick couldn’t speak. His eyes locked on her lips as other parts of his anatomy were unlocked. Was she coming on to him?
    Somewhere in a far corner of the restaurant, a mariachi troupe began what sounded like a love song. With a flourish of high notes dipping quickly into the lower octaves, the melody of the violins suggested a torrid love affair.
    Nick couldn’t take his eyes off her. Breathing had suddenly become a chore.
    “Reese?” He said her name in a rasp and reached for her hand. Just as he was about to touch her, his cell phone rang. Now? Who would have the audacity to interrupt this moment? “Sorry,” he gulped, reaching for the offending device. “I thought I’d turned it off.”
    She raised a questioning brow.
    On the other end of the line, Leonie said, “I need you to come to my apartment right now.”
    “I’m, uh, not able to do that at the moment. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
    “I’m sure once you hear about this, you’ll agree it’s more important than whatever you’re doing.”
    What was she up to? Leonie rarely called let alone saw him on weekends after their Saturday morning briefing. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Reese shifting away from him so as not to intrude. “I’m having dinner right now with someone.” Back to Reese, he said, “Please, excuse me.” He rose and slammed out to the lobby.
    “Okay, Leonie. I left the table so I could talk more openly. Now, tell me what’s so important you would have me be rude to my dinner guest.”
    “I have to show you, dear. I’m working on a major change for the show and need your input before tomorrow morning, when I have to make my decision.”
    “Can’t Jasper help? That’s more his kind of thing.”
    “He’s coming too. But I need your perspective. You’ll see when you get here. Please, Nick. This won’t take long.”
    Nick checked his watch. Eight-thirty. At least an hour for him to get to Leonie’s, stay a few minutes, and return to the restaurant. He couldn’t ask Reese to stick around that long. Maybe he could take her with him. Right. That would go over big with his aunt. He felt like a jerk for what he was about to do, but Leonie had that coaxing,