Free Recipe for Desire by Cheris Hodges Page B

Serena, and Marie felt a slight twinge of jealousy, despite the fact that she knew Serena and Devon worked together. She also knew Serena was married since she’d followed Emerson Bradford’s trial for the attempted murder of Serena, but she wanted to be up there with him. Close enough to inhale his masculine scent and feel those magic fingers dancing across her hand as she rolled the fish like Serena was doing.
    “Now, Serena,” Devon said. “Was that so hard?”
    “You know, I don’t like you right now,” she quipped.
    Devon laughed. “Serena is a newlywed and one of the owners of the restaurant, so she doesn’t do much of this in the kitchen,” he said as he directed her to drop the fish in the pan. “Your husband will thank me when he comes home to a hot meal.”
    “You’re lucky we’re on TV,” she replied as she dropped a second piece of fish in the pan. Marie crossed and uncrossed her legs as Devon squeezed a lemon over the shrimp he had simmering in another pan. As he spoke about the flavor that would come from adding the juice, she watched his lips, taking note of how full they were. When he picked up a piece of shrimp with a fork and took it into his mouth, Marie closed her eyes and imagined what it would feel like to have his lips closed around hers.
    The director signaled for a break, and it couldn’t have come fast enough for Marie, who bolted from her seat and went outside to catch her breath. She paced back and forth in the parking lot, ignoring the pain in her ankle as she struggled to bring her hormones under control. He’s just a man and it’s his job to be charming when he’s on TV, she thought as she continued to pace.
    “Hey,” Shay said as she walked outside with a cigarette in her hand. “Are you all right?”
    “Yes, just needed some air,” Marie said. “You know those things are bad for you.”
    Shay lit up anyway and shrugged. “There are a lot of things that are bad for me. Those shoes, as sharp as they are, will kill your knees one day.”
    Marie looked down at her feet and nodded. “Touché. May I ask you a question?”
    Shay blew a plume of smoke upward. “Sure.”
    “I’m not trying to be disrespectful when I say this, but how did you end up in the shelter?”
    Shay flicked the ashes from her cigarette and looked at Marie. “Well,” she said, “I married the wrong man. When he decided to leave me, it seemed as if everything started going downhill from there. When we were married, he was the primary provider, I worked for First Union. Then they merged with Wachovia and my job was no longer needed. I was laid off, living in a house with a mortgage I couldn’t afford on my own.”
    “Wow. So, what did you do?” Marie asked.
    “I moved out, got a job at another bank, and then all hell broke loose in the industry,” Shay said as she shook her head. Cocking her head to the side, she looked at Marie. “Not the story you expected, huh? Thought I was a former crack head or something?”
    Marie didn’t want to say yes, but that had been what she’d been thinking. “I just ...”
    “It’s all right, a lot of people hear ‘homeless’ and think drugs, prostitution, and forget that anyone could find themselves in my shoes at any time. Nothing is promised.”
    Marie nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “Nothing is promised. Your family couldn’t help you?”
    Shay snorted and took a deep drag of her cigarette. “My family and I haven’t spoken in over fifteen years. Even if I had reached out to them for help, they wouldn’t have helped me. My father is a pastor, and he didn’t approve of my lifestyle.”
    “Your lifestyle?”
    “He didn’t approve of my husband, nor the fact that I had an abortion,” Shay revealed. “When he threw me out, I told myself that I would never ask him to help me with anything.”
    “But ...”
    Shay threw her hand up. “I wish things had turned out differently for me. I wish that I had a home and supportive family, but