First Course, page 4
“Explain yourself,” Bruce demanded.
“Nothing to explain. Not a hard puzzle to complete, Solo.”
Bruce eyed Devon in challenge.
Devon rolled her eyes. “Carrie was taking CJ to watch them raise the big tree downtown. The best place to watch is Pagoli’s. I offered to bring down the contract. She offered to share a pizza. End story.”
“She’s hot.”
“What?”
“Tommy’s friend—you have the hots for her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Bruce shook his head. No one knew Devon better than he did—no one. If Devon offered to share pizza with a virtual stranger who had a four-year-old in tow, there was a reason.
“You wanted to do this banquet. It’s in four days. I needed to get the ball rolling.”
“If you say so,” Bruce replied. “So? What is she like?”
“Who?”
“Tommy’s friend.”
“Carrie?” Devon asked. Bruce nodded. “She’s nice.”
“Picky?”
“What do you mean?” Devon wondered.
“Was she demanding?” Bruce asked.
“About the banquet?”
“No, about the pizza. Of course, about the banquet!”
Devon chuckled. She could imagine that Carrie was capable of being demanding when it was warranted. Demanding did not seem to be a central part of Carrie Maynard’s personality. “No.”
“That’s good. When are you finalizing things?” he asked.
“I’m going to give her a call in a bit to check on a couple of things.”
“What things?” Bruce asked.
“Details.”
“Details?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, Bruce, details. You know, those little things that never seem important until they are?”
“Uh-hum. Did you work out the budget yet?” he asked.
“Ballpark,” Devon replied evenly.
“Can I have it?”
“No. You can have the list of what we need, though.”
“Why do I need to take care of the list?”
Devon grinned. “So I can take care of the details,” she replied. Devon handed him her list of tasks to complete for Friday’s event. Bruce gave it a cursory glance and groaned. Devon’s grin widened. “Better get on that,” she gloated.
Bruce pushed out his chair and headed for the door. “Details my ass,” he mumbled.
“What was that?” Devon called after him.
“Nothing,” he grumbled. “Details called Carrie,” he mused.
***
“Hello?” Carrie answered her phone.
“Hope this isn’t a bad time,” Devon replied.
Carrie sat back in her chair and smiled. “Not at all. Everything okay?”
“You mean with your party?”
Carrie laughed. “I’d hardly call it mine or a party. A virtual root canal, maybe.”
“Ouch,” Devon commented.
“So, what can I do for my favorite Hash Slinger?”
“Know a lot of Hash Slingers, do you?” Devon asked.
“A few,” Carrie replied.
“I’ll bet,” Devon chuckled. “Listen, I have the final break down for cost. I just wondered if you wanted me to fax it or something.”
Carrie picked up a pen from her desk and chewed on it for a second. “Sure.”
“Okay.”
“Is that all?”
Devon chuckled. “No.”
“Yes?”
“The fax number might help,” Devon laughed.
Carrie’s head fell back in defeat. “Shit.”
“What?” Devon was positive Carrie had not intended her curse to be audible. “I have to go your way later this afternoon. I could just drop it by,” Devon suggested.
“Devon, you don’t have to do that.”
“Do you need it right this second?”
“No…”
“Then, it isn’t a big deal.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to fax it here?” Carrie’s voice lilted.
“Not really.”
“Really.”
“I suck with fax machines,” Devon replied. Carrie laughed. “Not much call for them in the kitchen,” Devon explained.
“Mm. Not a pertinent Hash Slinger skill.”
“Nope. So? I can swing by your office around four o’clock—unless that’s too late.”
Carrie smiled as she listened to Devon. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out that Devon was looking for an excuse to see Carrie again. Carrie had been combing her brain all weekend, trying to devise an excuse to see the chef. She had found herself wishing she had Darlene’s balls. Darlene would just walk into D & B’s, ask for Devon, and suggest they go for a drink—or whatever might strike her fancy. Carrie was not that forward, and she was out of practice. She had never been the aggressor in any of her relationships. She could be assertive when necessary, particularly at the office, but that was not something she found enjoyable. She was glad that Devon had taken the pressure off her for the moment. More than that, Carrie was delighted at the realization that Devon had felt some degree of connection or attraction during their first encounter.
“Trust me; four o’clock is not too late in this office on a Monday.”
“If you are too busy…”
“No,” Carrie interjected more quickly than she would have liked.
Devon bit her lip on the other end of the phone to stem her goofy grin. Carrie was anxious to see her. She could tell.
“I’m usually here late on Monday is all,” Carrie said.
“You’re sure?” Devon couldn’t help herself, a mild bit of torture, and hearing the evident hopefulness in Carrie’s voice made her surprisingly happy.
“Four is fine.”
“Okay, see you then.”
“All right. Have a good day, Dev.”
Devon felt her heart skip a beat. What the hell was it about Carrie that had her so fascinated? “You too,” Devon hung up the phone and sucked in a nervous breath. “Maybe she really does have Jedi powers,” Devon laughed. Carrie had dominated her thoughts all weekend. At this point, Devon would not rule out the power of mind control. She looked at the clock. “Five hours, Devon. Five.”
***
“Carrie?” Heather poked her head into Carrie’s office. Carrie was focused on reading something. “You have a visitor.” Carrie waved that she understood, determined to finish the paragraph she was immersed in.
“Bad time?” a voice carried through the office.
Carrie looked up from her desk. Her glasses sat precariously on the end of her nose. Devon smiled, determined to conceal the way her heart had started to beat erratically. Carrie was beautiful. That was the thought that immediately popped into Devon’s brain. Devon was no stranger to immediate attraction. The pull she felt toward Carrie Maynard was different, deeper somehow. To call that unusual would have been an understatement. The flutter in her stomach and the shortness of breath that being in Carrie’s presence evoked surprised Devon. What surprised her more was the fact that she had no desire to run from it, nor any wish to turn her attraction to the woman into an ordinary conquest. Wherever this flirty friendship led, Devon intended to follow it through to a conclusion.
Carrie removed her glasses as a smile edged its way onto her lips. “You are early.”
“No,” Devon gently disagreed. She nodded to a clock on the wall of Carrie’s office.
Carrie’s mouth fell open. Four-fifteen. “How did that happen?” she mused aloud.
Devon chuckled. “Lost track of time?”
Carrie groaned. “It’s not my best quality.”
Devon stepped up and handed a manila envelope to Carrie. “I hope that this is acceptable.”
Carrie kept her eyes locked with Devon’s until she had the contract in her hand. She retrieved her glasses and let her eyes fall to the paper and scanned it thoughtfully. She raised her eyes back to Devon’s slowly.
“Problem?” Devon asked.
Carrie set the paper down, removed her glasses, and shook her head. “Devon,” she began thoughtfully. “I said that I have a budget.”
“I know… I….”
Carrie held up a hand to stall Devon. She put her glasses back on, picked up a pen and scribbled some things onto the contract. She took a deep breath, looked back at Devon, and handed her the contract. Devon looked at her quizzically. Carrie silently directed her to look at the contract again.
Devon dropped her eyes to the paper in her hand. “Carrie,” she spoke softly. “This is more than we discussed.”
“It’s fair,” Carrie replied.
Devon looked at Carrie and felt a flutter that was growing in familiarity. “I can’t ask you to…”
“You didn’t. This is not my first rodeo,” Carrie said.
Devon was impressed by the command Carrie had taken of their negotiation. “You are definitely not a Padawan,” she joked.
“Sadly not,” Carrie agreed. “You need to make money on this, Devon.”
“It’s an investment.”
“I know. It’s an investment for me too,” Carrie said. Devon smiled and nodded. Carrie stood up and stretched. “So, now that we have reached mutually acceptable terms, how about I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“No can do.”
“I forgot, you have someplace to be.”
Devon shook her head. “Well, yeah, I do. But, that’s not what I meant.” Carrie was puzzled as she grabbed her jacket. “You’re not the only one who can wheel and deal, Yoda,” Devon joked. Carrie grinned. “I’d love to have coffee with you, on the condition that I buy this round.”
Carrie nodded. “You drive a hard bargain for a Hash Slinger.”
Devon laughed. “You might be asking for a discount when you sample the hash.”
Carrie’s eyebrow lifted. Devon cringed. She hadn’t thought about the double meaning in her statement. “I’ll take that under advisement,” Carrie let her off the hook. Devon covered her eyes. Carrie laughed. The more time she spent in Devon’s presence, the more enchanting Carrie found the younger woman. “I’ll just order a double,” she teased Devon with a wink. Carrie turned back when she reached the office door. “Coming?” she asked.
Devon nearly choked. “I think I might be in trouble.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Carrie had played her role as long as she could bear. Watching Darlene fawn over Leigh Matthews was making her nauseous. She’d smiled. She’d listened to Leigh’s boring stories for several hours while listening to Darlene giggle at every half-witted joke the woman made. More than once, Carrie had thought that no account was worth the torture of sitting at a table with Leigh Matthews for dinner and pretending to be enchanted. She had been relieved when Leigh had led Darlene to the bar, and the two had become engaged in conversation with several of the seasoned designers Carrie had hired in the last year. It meant Carrie could escape, and she knew exactly where she wanted to escape to.
“Sorry,” Carrie poked her head into the kitchen.
Devon spun on her heels. She’d hoped that she would get a chance to see her new friend before the evening ended. Devon’s breath hitched for a moment when she saw Carrie standing in the door. Carrie looked stunning. Her hair was swept up in a twist, and her eyes were adorned by a light gray eyeshadow. It all complemented the black dress she wore. Simple. Elegant. Stunning. It fit Carrie Maynard’s personality perfectly. Devon looked down at herself, aware that she had been staring. She could only imagine how she must have looked by comparison. She’d been toiling in the hot kitchen all day and now was in the throes of finishing cleaning the grill. She offered Carrie an uncustomary shy smile.
“You look terrific,” Devon said honestly. Carrie blushed slightly. “You do,” Devon said.
Carrie took a step into the kitchen. “Devon, everything was amazing. I owe you.”
Devon tossed a towel toward Carrie. Carrie caught it and raised an eyebrow. “You said, you owe me.”
“You want my help cleaning?” Carrie asked.
Devon grinned. “In that dress?” she let her eyes sweep over Carrie one more time, making Carrie blush again. Devon chuckled. “No, just throw it in that bin next to you,” she said. “And, we’ll call it even.”
“I’d hardly call that even, Devon. What about letting me buy you a drink?”
“Here in my own restaurant where I own the alcohol?” Devon teased.
Carrie rolled her eyes. “No. I was thinking someplace a little less work related.”
“Sure. When?”
“Nowish,” Carrie suggested.
“Nowish? Do you see you?”
“What?” Carrie asked.
“Uh-huh. Do you see me?” Devon pointed out her current condition.
Carrie smiled. Personally, she thought Devon looked adorable. She was a mess in the best of ways. Carrie liked people to be real. That’s what she found attractive in her friends, in her employees, her clients, and it’s what drew her to take someone as a lover. It was one of the reasons most people, even Carrie herself, found Carrie and Dar’s friendship a bit odd. What most people failed to understand is that Dar was real—a real pain in Carrie’s ass most days. What others perceived as fake was the real Darlene. Carrie accepted that. She spent most of her personal hours with Dar. Devon was the opposite of Dar. Carrie found that refreshing in her new friend, and although she had no intention of making a move, she couldn’t deny she found the chef attractive.
“I like it,” Carrie said.
“You like it? What do you like? Me standing here stinking of fish and steak?”
Carrie chuckled. “Seeing the Hash Slinger in action,” she said.
Devon shook her head. “Believe me when I tell you, I would love a drink.”
“But?”
“But, I need a shower. And, you deserve a much more presentable companion.”
“I like my present company, to be honest,” Carrie said.
“Not the most fun crowd, huh?”
“Not really, no,” Carrie said.
Devon understood. She could hold her own in any environment. She occasionally enjoyed formal functions, but she tired of them quickly in most cases. The only exceptions being New Year’s Eve celebrations and wedding receptions. She could see the slight strain on Carrie’s face mingling with hopefulness. They had spoken every day that week, had lunch, and found a few minutes for coffee under the pretense of Devon showing Carrie the final menu. Talking with Carrie had been enjoyable each time they had met. Enough so, that Devon had concocted all kinds of excuses to call her new friend.
“How about this?” Devon began. “I’m guessing that you need to make a final round out there. I need a shower. My place is just around the block. You can walk there, although in those heels,” Devon shook her head. Carrie looked at Devon expectantly. “You can kick off those heels, and I can promise a nice bottle of wine, and that I won’t smell like someone caught me with bait on a hook.”
Carrie’s eyes twinkled. She was beginning to think that she might like to be the person reeling in that line. “You realize that I offered to buy you a drink? Me drinking your bottle of wine is hardly paying a debt.”
“You’ve never been to my place,” Devon deadpanned.
“On one condition,” Carrie said.
“Yes?”
“You let me buy you dinner sometime this week.”
“Pizza?” Devon requested.
Carrie laughed. “You’re as bad as the Padawan.”
“Ah, yes, but I am a master. She’s but a student.”
Carrie could feel her smile as it reached her eyes. “Yes, we’ve heard all about your mean pizza. In fact, we’ve heard about mean pizza for days.”
Devon shrugged. “So? Are we on?”
“I still think I get the better deal here,” Carrie said. “Yes, we are on. When do you want me to appear?”
“Can you do that? Just appear?”
“Devon!”
Devon was infinitely pleased with herself. She moved to a table in the corner and scribbled down her address. “Give me about half an hour.”
“That’s all you need?”
“I have great soap,” Devon replied.
Carrie smacked Devon’s arm. “Noted. I will see you then,” she said as she began to make her way back to the dining area.
“You mean, you will appear!” Devon called out. “New Jedi trick!”
Carrie shook her head as she walked away, unable to contain her silly grin.
“Where did you go?” Darlene stopped Carrie in her tracks.
“Just popped in to thank Dev.”
“Why? The check you wrote wasn’t enough?”
Carrie had no intention of allowing Dar to ruin her good mood. “That check barely scratched the surface,” she said flatly.
Carrie was almost certain that Devon had taken a slight loss on the event. If not, D. and B.’s would have been lucky to break even on the evening’s event. Devon had gone far above and beyond. Not only had the food been superb, the staff had clearly been experienced—far beyond that of a fledgling restaurant staff. Devon had coordinated the place settings with the floral arrangements that Carrie had ordered. In Carrie’s estimation, the last-minute event had eclipsed many that she had spent months planning. She guessed that taking on the private party had been an investment on Devon and Bruce’s part; hoping to draw people back. Devon could have achieved that with the food alone. She had pulled out all the stops. Carrie suspected that at least part of the reason for that investment had been their budding friendship. She smiled at her best friend. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to say goodbye to Leigh and company.”
“Goodbye? Where are you going?” Darlene asked. “We were all going for drinks once this wrapped up. Come on, Carrie. This is an important deal.”
“One that I am certain you are capable of closing.”
“What are you going to do, go home and play with your Princess Leia dolls?”
Carrie kept her cool. She wasn’t taking Darlene’s bait tonight. Her thoughts immediately traveled to the conversation she had just been engaged in with Devon. “Nope. Those are all at the office anyway. So, no date with any princesses tonight, I’m afraid. Just a bottle of wine and a Hash Slinger,” she said.
