Cooking with Kandy Read online

  “You must be Max’s wife,” Josh said, taking the woman’s hand. “I’m Josh Keane. I know your husband through Latimer and Roberts,” he added, naming the law firm they’d been introduced by.

  The blue eyes narrowed and her gaze gamboled across his face. “I could shoot my husband for neglecting to ever mention you.”

  Good-natured flirting was an art, and Josh sensed this woman was a master. Relaxing, he said, “Oh, but I know all about you, Mrs. Peters.”

  She laughed, reminding Josh instantly of Kandy. “Let’s hope not, for both our sakes. And it’s Lucy.”

  Josh nodded.

  “Now, then,” she said, “just who, exactly, are you and why did you arrive with my niece?”

  Stacy threw a quick silencing glance her way. “Mama, that’s rude.”

  “I don’t think it’s rude at all, do you, Mr. Keane?”

  “It’s Josh, and no, I don’t.”

  “Are you two an item?” Lucy asked, making Stacy blanch.

  “In a way,” he replied.

  “What way? We’re very protective of our Kandace Sophia.”

  Thinking back to his discussion with Kandy, he said easily, “Let’s just say your niece and I have a mutual desire to be together right now.”

  He had to clamp his lips together to keep from laughing when her face lit up like a Broadway billboard.

  “Oh, well, good for her. It’s about time. After the last moron, you’re more than an improvement.”

  “Mama,” Stacy said, inveigling her way between them and taking her mother’s arm in a not-too-soft grip, “can you find Aunt Trudi for me? I need to ask her a few things about next week’s shooting schedule.”

  Lucy glanced over her shoulder. “I just saw her over by the bar. Can’t it wait?”

  “I’m afraid not. Would you?”

  Lucy Peters looked from Josh to her daughter. With a theatrical sigh, she said, “All right, dear. I’ll go tell her you’re looking for her. I expect I’ll be seeing you again, Joshua.”

  With one last penetrating look at her daughter, Lucy flittered away.

  Stacy blew out a slow breath.

  “Kandy told me she didn’t think anyone else in the family knew about your concerns,” he said.

  “She’s right. There’s no need to worry them all about this. Sorry my mom was so blunt. It’s a family trait.”

  As the woman reached the bar, she threw one brief smile back over her shoulder, her gaze zeroing in on his. “Your mother’s a very beautiful woman.”

  “Yeah, she is,” Stacy said, a ghost of a grin on her face. “Personal style and good grooming are her muses. Kandy’s hired most of the family in one capacity or another. My aunt Trudi is her secretary and keeper of the daily diary. In all honesty, she’s more of an asset to me than to Kandy. She keeps me organized, knows where Kandy has to be, what’s going on with her timetable and agenda. Our aunt Callie is Kandy’s makeup artist. Aunt Callie’s two daughters are research assistants and computer jocks. They keep the info rolling, answer e-mails, track interviews, get Kandy recipe info. Stuff like that.”

  “And her sister Gemma is her photographer.”

  “Yeah, and a great one in her own right. She works primarily for Kandy, but you’ve probably seen some of her commercial work. She did the ad campaign for Mistaire.”

  Josh nodded at the familiar perfume company name. “Kandy seems very loyal to your family.”

  Stacy nodded. “If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have the comfortable lifestyles we do. None of our parents were rich before she made it big. Since she has, she’s taken most of us along for the ride.”

  Josh honed in on her words. “Most? Not all?”

  Stacy bit her lower lip and looked up at him. “Not everyone in the family basks in Kandy’s success.”

  “Anything I should know about those not happy with the situation?”

  She was quick to disavow him of the thought. “No. No, really. I don’t mean to give you the wrong impression. Sorry.”

  He wanted to ask more, but she begged off, saying she had to talk to her aunt.

  Josh made his way to the bar, his eyes skimming the crowd for his client. Five-nine with four-inch heels, she wasn’t hard to find.

  Reclining back against a table, arms crossed in front of her, she was listening intently to a tall, gray-haired gentleman in an Armani suit.

  Josh ordered bottled water, leaned a hip against the bar, and watched her.

  Her eyes were focused on the man speaking and she nodded every few seconds at what he said. At one point though, Kandy turned her head, connected with Josh’s gaze, and winked, a small playful smile crossing her lips. Just as quick she turned back to her companion, seemingly engrossed in what he was saying.

  For a moment, Josh wondered if he’d imagined the look.

  But he hadn’t. That little eye motion—seductive, secretive, and oh so sexy—hadn’t been his imagination. And what it did to his insides wasn’t his imagination, either.

  “You came with Kandy, didn’t you?” a throaty voice asked, close to his ear.

  Josh choked on the water, dribbling some of it down his chin. Swiping at it with the back of his hand, he looked over at Kandy’s clone.

  She was eye level with him, just as Kandy was in heels. The shape of the face, the color of the eyes, and the slight bend of the chin were Kandy’s to a T. The one difference was the hair. Kandy’s was a torrent of midnight black curls, so deep and shiny it almost shone blue. This woman’s hair was shorter by about twelve inches, straight as a pin, but still a solid, lustrous ebony.

  “Yes,” he told her. “And you are?”

  She extended her hand. “Gemma Laine.”

  “Photographer.”

  One sculpted, black eyebrow rose just as her sister’s was wont to do.

  “Kandy filled me in on a few of the people who’d be here. Plus.” He nodded to the camera slung around her neck. From surveillance work he’d done in the past, he knew the price tag on the device and was impressed.

  “You have me at a disadvantage,” she said, still claiming his hand. “You know who I am, but...”

  She let the sentence dangle, her eyes drilling right through him.

  “Josh Keane.” When he pulled back on his hand, she seemed reluctant to turn it over.

  “And you are, what? Colleague? Friend? Fan?”

  “You could say all three. Right now we’re pretty much joined at the hip.”

  She let out a sigh that clearly communicated her disappointment. “Oh well. Good for her. I’ll have a scotch and soda if you don’t mind.”

  Josh gave the bartender the order and then considered Gemma. “You’re younger than Kandy.”

  “Three years.”

  “Young to have such a first-class professional reputation.”

  Gemma thanked the bartender and downed a large portion of her drink before replying. “Long day,” she explained.

  “Must have been.” The corners of his lips twitched.

  “Anyway. I work for Kandy for three reasons. One, she’s my sister and I love her to death. Two, she gave me my first camera when I was still in high school. Launched me into my career, a fact I will be eternally grateful for.”

  “And third?” he asked as she took another hit of the drink.

  Gemma Laine stared straight into his face, a broad and devilish smile gleaming across it, identical to her older sister’s. “The pay and perks are unbelievable.”

  “Perks?”

  “Sure.” She lifted one shoulder. “I get great media exposure with every book she writes, which in turn brings me more work. I get to go to fabulous parties like this one and hobnob with all the ritzy New York elite who fawn over sister dear. And I get to meet gorgeous men like you.”

  Before he could stop himself, Josh grinned. “I’m beginning to think flirting is a genetic trait in your family.”

  “Oh, you’ve met Aunt Lucy?”

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nbsp; His laugh was quick, loud, and full of pleasure. Several heads turned toward them.

  “Yes, I have,” he said, regaining his composure.

  “She’s nothing compared to my mother,” Gemma said, rolling her eyes, a twin movement he’d noticed in her sister. “Better eat your Wheaties before you meet her.”

  From his left side, Kandy slid up to them and said, “Gemma, what family secrets are you divulging?”

  “No secrets. Just facts. He’s met Aunt Lucy. I was just preparing him for Mom.”

  “Oh God.” Kandy leaned onto the bar, her head in her hands. “I forgot to tell you about my mother. Bartender, could I please have some champagne?”

  While he went to pour it, she asked her sister, “Is she here yet?”

  “I called before I came. She was still primping. That was an hour ago.”

  “Her timing’s perfect as always.” Kandy took the champagne glass and sipped. “Mmmm. Yummy. Okay, look. I’d better warn you.” Kandy turned her attention to him. “My mother’s not your typical middle-aged sedate matron.”

  Gemma snorted. “You got that right.”

  Kandy shushed her sister then turned back to Josh. “My parents were married for fourteen years, ten of which she was pregnant. We all lived with Grandma Sophie because my father wasn’t what you’d call career-driven.”

  “Another understatement,” Gemma said. “He was a bum.”

  “Gemma, please.” Kandy’s patience was clearly beginning to strain. To Josh, she added, “Okay, that’s an apt description, I have to admit. He left when I was thirteen. Mom went a little psycho after he bolted.”

  “A little?” Gemma snapped. “Get real. She went full-fledged nuts.”

  Kandy chose to ignore her this time. “She’d been chained to him for all those years—since she was seventeen. Pregnant, changing diapers, and nursing for most of them. When he left, she felt she’d been pardoned from a death sentence. So, she went a little wild. Dyed her hair, lost a ton of weight, and started to explore her, well, her sexual identity.”

  When she blushed at her own depiction, Josh said, “She found herself. No longer wife and mother, but independent woman.”

  Nodding, Kandy smiled. “Perfect picture. Anyway, she’s still on her path to discovery.”

  “What my sister is delicately trying to say is our mother gets off on the cougar-on-the-prowl role. Plays it to the hilt. Anything in pants is a target. So be warned and beware.” Gemma tossed back her drink. Draining it, she banged the glass down on the bar. “I’ve gotta go mingle and take some pictures. Earn my keep. It was really nice meeting you. Really nice. Too bad you’re Kandy’s. You’re way cuter then the last guy who, by the way, was an asshole.”

  With that, she meandered away from them.

  Josh met Kandy’s thoughtful gaze after he’d watched her sister go. “What? She’s a cute kid,” he said.

  “And she knows it. Look,” she said, her tone growing serious. “I’m a little uncomfortable with what people are asking me about you. What they’re implying.”

  “Which is?”

  “Well, they seem to think we’re involved. You know. Together. Dating.”

  For the first time since they’d met, Josh saw nerves in her. “Would you prefer they knew the real reason I’m with you?” he asked, lowering his voice for her ears only.

  She took another sip of champagne and then looked up at him. “No, I don’t.”

  He turned to face the wall, rested his arms on the bar, and snaked a foot into the bar rail. His body was close to hers, their shoulders almost touching.

  “If you want to keep why I’m hanging around you a secret from everyone, I think it’s the most plausible explanation. Let ’em think we’re dating.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  He shook his head. “Part of the job. No harm done if people assume we’re having an affair. Not to me, anyway.”

  “God, I hate that word. It sounds so seedy and torrid.”

  Josh’s mind drifted for a moment, imagining just how hot and spicy an affair with Kandy Laine would be.

  But despite how delicious it sounded, a steamy romance wasn’t included in the contract. She was his client. His responsibility.

  “If it’s a means to an end, I can go along with it until this whole thing is resolved,” he told her. “Can you?”

  Worry filled her eyes. “I guess I’ll have to. We know the truth at least,” she added with a sigh.

  Josh took the moment to ask a question. “Who was the man you were speaking to just now? About sixty, gray hair?”

  After taking another sip of her champagne she said, “Harvey Little. My publisher. He’s the one paying for all this decadence.” She waved her hand toward the ballroom.

  “Ever have any trouble with him? Professionally? Personally?”

  Her eyes widened to the size of half dollars. “You’ve got to be kidding. Harvey Little? The sweetest man in publishing?”

  “He’s never made any overt moves on you, anything that might be misconstrued?”

  “Never,” she said, gulping champagne. “He’s gay.”

  Josh turned back to the room and found the subject in question in close conversation with Reva. “You sure about that?”

  Kandy followed his line of sight. “Yes. He’s been in a committed relationship for more than twenty years. Besides”—she finished her drink—“he loves how much money my books bring in. If something happened to me, it would be like getting rid of the golden goose.”

  He couldn’t decide if being thought of that way bothered her or not.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Cort Mason entering the room. The director was smoothing down his hair when he saw Kandy and made a beeline for the bar, adjusting his jacket as he did.

  “Hello, doll.” He bussed Kandy’s proffered cheek. “Keane,” he said, extending his hand. “How’s this bash going?”

  “Fine,” she replied. “Where’s Alyssa?”

  “Terrible headache. Sends her regrets. Quite a crowd. Little’s gone all out.”

  He ordered a drink and Josh couldn’t help but notice how quickly he’d veered the subject away from his wife.

  “Oh crap,” Kandy said a second later. “Who let him in?”

  Josh mimicked her stare and saw a thirtyish man in a well-fitted tuxedo enter the room. “Who’s that?”

  “The asshole I mentioned earlier.” Gemma answered, coming up to them. “I saw him get off the elevator. Figured you could use some reinforcements.”

  Kandy put an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Thanks, but I think I can handle Evan.”

  When she started to move toward the man, Josh put a gentle, restraining hand on her arm. “Joined at the hip, remember?”

  She stopped, stared at him and then at the way his hand was snaked around her upper arm.

  Without a word, she nodded.

  “There you are. The woman of the hour.”

  Josh took in the measure of the man Kandy had been involved with. He was a little less than six foot and filled out the shoulders of the tuxedo well. His blond hair was streaked with auburn, cut straight and fashionably long, ending just at the collar of his jacket. Perfect, professionally white teeth gleamed at Kandy like high-beam headlights. Josh knew in an instant they were veneers, just as he knew the hair color was bottle-enhanced.

  “Evan, what are you doing here?” Kandy asked.

  “I came to wish you good luck with the book, of course.”

  Even his voice sounded fake. Evan Chandler was trying much too hard to hide the backwoods southern twang Josh recognized lurking beneath the well-toned vowels.

  “I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to ever see you again the last time you showed up without an invitation.”

  The steel in her voice warmed Josh’s heart.

  “Old news. All buried under the bridge now.” His smile was dazzling and perfectly fake.

  “You’re mixing your
metaphors, Evan. Please leave. This is a private party and you weren’t invited.”

  The man’s bonhomie shifted a tad, his smile losing some of its luster. “Still mad, Kandy? That’s not like you.”

  “Oh, it’s very like me, Evan. Once I’m lied to, I never give a second chance.”

  “And still just as high-handed, I see. Can’t you just accept I want to wish you good luck?”

  “Bull. You never do anything without an ulterior motive.”

  “So untrusting. Can’t we just put the past away and be friends? I miss you.”

  When he stepped in closer, Josh countered the move and placed himself firmly in the way.

  “She asked you to leave.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  The fire flaming in Chandler’s eyes was comical. Josh took a step closer and was rewarded when Evan shifted backward.

  “Who I am is none of your business. Now, do everyone a favor and get lost.”

  Flustered, Evan looked from one face to the other. “Kandy, I just want—”

  “I don’t care what you want. Leave. Now. And don’t try to see me again.” She turned and stalked away, Gemma at her heels.

  “Kandy,” Evan called after her as he took a step in her direction.

  Josh barred his way. He had an inch or two and about fifty pounds on Chandler, and used every bit of it to his advantage.

  “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I need to speak with her, so get out of my way.” Chandler put a hand up to shove Josh.

  “Wrong move,” Josh said, quiet as death. He wrapped his hand around Chandler’s wrist and turned it sideways.

  “Ow. Let go of me.”

  “I will just as soon as I’m convinced you’re gone for good.”

  Quite a few inquiring gazes followed them as Josh led him from the ballroom and back to the bank of elevators.

  “I’m gonna kick your ass,” Evan shouted.

  “I don’t think so, pal.” Josh shoved him onto a waiting elevator and let go of him with a snap of his hand. “Now, get lost.”

  He waited until the elevator doors shut, watching as Evan Chandler rubbed his wrist and glared.

  Josh returned to the filled room and scanned it for Kandy.

  “She’s in the ladies’ room with Gemma,” Cort said, coming up and handing him a drink. “Here. Give her this. She’ll need it. And by the way, good move with Chandler. I never liked him.”