Feel the Heat (Hot In the Kitchen) (38 page)

From what he could gather, the thirty-minute episode was at the business end. He didn’t have to watch it to know it had followed the standard play: the setup of cocky arriviste versus traditional by-the-book, something going terribly wrong, in this case, Jack overcooking a risotto to a mushy glue, cut with images of diners lamenting a missing flavor or waxing as lyrical as the editing allowed. The point wasn’t accuracy but to tell a tale in twenty-two minutes. In one shot, Tony was captured in that scowl the DeLucas had a patent on; then Jack was shown at the burner, competently managing several orders at once. Spliced together, it looked like Tony was envious of Jack’s flair, which he was damn sure was not the case.

Aunt Sylvia had the right of it. Television
was
cheating.

“Hi, Jack.”

Glancing down, he encountered four feet of attitude, topped with one foot of bird’s nest.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said to Gina.

She fidgeted, opened her mouth, closed it, then blew out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about the salt in your dishes.”

“Forget about it.” When she still looked woebegone, he squeezed her shoulder. “It’s all vino under the bridge.”

“It was Marco’s fault, really, and I just wanted to make everything better after”—she delivered a furtive over-the-shoulder glance and mouthed—“the video.”

“The video?” he repeated, feeling sluggish.

“Of the kiss. It was me,” she said in a torrent. “It was supposed to be a joke, but then Angela started sending it to everyone she knew and it just snowballed. And then Uncle Tony was mad, and Lili was upset, so I tried to make it up to her with the Facebook page and the T-shirts. And then I thought if Uncle Tony won the contest, it would cancel out some of the bad publicity.”

Jesus. “Does Lili know?”

Gina shook her head despondently, her eyes big and glossy. “I’m trying to persuade her to give me my job back and if I tell her, she’ll kill me.”

“Probably.” Kissing her on the cheek would require more knee-bend than he was willing to give, so he dropped one on the cotton-candy crown of her head. “It’s all right, munchkin. No hard feelings.”

“Aw, thanks, Jack. You’re a real star and absolutely gorgeous.” A melancholy sigh escaped her lips. “I’m getting married in a while and you would have looked so good in the wedding party. Can’t think why Lili dropped you.”

She flashed a smile, adjusted her breasts, and bounced off, conscience cleansed. Oh, to be that young and clueless.

Back on
Jack of All Trades
, the drama was ratcheting up and now played to an audience with eyes out on stalks. He’d known that Jules’s dramatic arrival and anything that hinted at the cheating would grace the cutting room floor, but surprise rolled over him at seeing him and Lili taking that moment of comfort right before the second coming of hell broke loose. The hairs on his arm spiked in memory of her soft hand stroking him to calm. His lips twitched in remembrance of how near her mouth had been to his. His whole body ached like it had done that night when he’d realized he needed her more than he needed food or air.

The crowd cheered as Lili and Jack almost kissed on camera, then booed as Cara broke up the party and ordered everyone to get back to work. In good-humored acceptance of her role as stage villain, his producer stood up to take a bow. He cast about again, noting the healthy mix of young and old, including the trendy, professional kind of clientele Lili had said the restaurant needed to supplement the regulars. More DeLucas crowded his vision, laughing, living, and loving. People he wanted to know better. Aunt Sylvia, with her hirsute tower, partially blocked the view of the poor souls sitting behind her. Jules and Tad, whispering like coconspirators. His sister felt his gaze and grinned at him with his mother’s smile, and he remembered that he loved her very much and that it might be bad form to throttle her before the baby was born.

And then he saw her. The euphoric surge of electric that coursed through his body felt like that first time when he stumbled out of a walk-in fridge and found a spread-eagled vision in red, gold, and blue.

She stood off to the side near the corridor that led to the kitchen, separate, presiding. Dressed in a drape of shimmery silver that kissed every curve, she looked like she’d been dipped in something precious. Her hair was piled up high but even from his distant vantage point, he could see a couple of wispy strands had formed an escape committee and were making a break along the elegant curve of her neck.

He moved to a seat at the side of the bar so he could covertly watch her. She lifted her high-heeled foot and rubbed her ankle, a move that hitched her dress up so far he had to close his eyes to harden his mind against the onslaught of golden skin. Didn’t help his body any, which had turned to granite the moment he saw her and stayed that way.

From the TV, the announcement that Tony had won sent a wave of applause and cheers undulating through the room. Shouts of
salute
and
il cuoco
,
il cuoco
filled the air, drowning out the closing interviews and the theme of
Jack of All Trades
. It took a moment for Tony to make his appearance, and he clearly did so under sufferance as Tad strong-armed him from the kitchen to take a bow.

Jack found Lili again, and his heart reeled at the sight of that upward tilt to her lips and those clever eyes watching the proceedings from beneath her dark veil of eyelashes. Tony was saying something about how pleased he was that people were here to celebrate the new DeLuca’s. Still, Jack could see only her. Vaguely, something registered about Lili’s art and Tony’s pride in his daughter’s accomplishments. She smiled, looking both teary and a whole lot happy. And Jack was truly happy for her.

The claps and roars faded into the painted sky above his head. He closed his eyes again, but she was still there, imprinted on the backs of his eyelids like a tattoo of his personal heaven and hell.

*  *  *

Content to keep a low profile and let her father enjoy his moment, Lili held back against the arch that separated the two dining rooms and inhaled the nerves away. They had done it. Okay, so they weren’t exactly out of the woods, but there was sunlight streaming through the trees. She was under no illusions that a few cosmetic changes and a couple of arty photos would heal all their ills, but her father had listened to her for the first time in forever. And that felt immensely gratifying. Not quite enough to ease the Jack-shaped ache in her chest, but that would come.

Marco had wanted to invite him, of course. Squeeze every last drop out of the Kilroy-DeLuca connection, but thankfully, the family had vetoed that idea. They’d gotten their pound of flesh from Jack; there was no need to be tacky about it.

Tell that to the local news.

Brief interview with her father complete, Lili found herself in the inquisition circle with Shona Love, Channel 5’s entertainment reporter. Before Lili could take a fortifying breath, the cameraman, wearing a Canadian tuxedo and a mustache that Burt Reynolds might want back, counted a silent three-two-one with his fingers.

Shona’s face transformed into showtime. “We’re here at DeLuca’s Ristorante in Wicker Park, a twenty-two-year veteran of the neighborhood that, tonight, was featured on über-chef Jack Kilroy’s newest hit cooking show,
Jack of All Trades
. We just heard from Tony DeLuca, chef/owner, who won the cook-off against Jack. Now we’re talking with his daughter, Lili, who manages the restaurant.” She wheezed after the fast-talk introduction. “So, Lili, you must be pleased with the outcome of the contest.”

“Well, it’s a testament to how great my dad is and how his food can rival that of any”—she almost said
idiot box chef
but caught herself—“any of the greats.”

“Of course, Jack Kilroy
is
one of the greats,” Shona said with a wink for Lili that would be missed by the camera.
Amirite, sister?
“It must have been tough for you to keep your composure with your father and your man going hammer and tongs in the kitchen. And some of those shots of you and Jack getting cozy were hot enough to get us all steamed up out here.” She added another provocative wink.

“Is there something wrong with your eye?” Lili asked, amazed at how calm she felt.

Shona’s perfect eyes widened, the epitome of coy. “What we all want to know, Lili, is the skinny on you and Jack.” On
skinny
, Shona’s sloe-eyed gaze dipped imperceptibly to take in Lili’s formfitting dress, all drapes and dips, and damn, didn’t she look fine in it. In fact, Lili would bet dollars to doughnuts the bony-assed bitch didn’t realize she did it.

“We’re so grateful to Jack and the Cooking Channel for giving us a chance to remind everyone that DeLuca’s in Wicker Park is the go-to place for Italian in Chicago.”

Shona wouldn’t be put off so easily. She smiled, but it was as if she had to consciously rearrange her facial muscles in the appropriate pattern.

“And will Jack be eating Italian anytime soon?”

That just about ejected Lili’s hard-fought-for equanimity. Was this the local news affiliate or Skinimax? She couldn’t be rude, though this woman deserved to be taken out into the alley and introduced to the side of the Dumpster. Struggling for a response, Lili squeezed her eyes shut and held on. She just needed to get through this night…and the next night, and the next. Keep going until the Jack-shaped ache faded to dull, and the dull faded to numb, and the numb faded to nothing.

She was Tony DeLuca’s daughter. She could do this.

Her eyes blew open and she saw him. She blinked to make sure it wasn’t some desperate hallucination she’d conjured, but no, he was still there. Sitting about thirty feet out at the short side of the L-shaped bar. He looked so good, so Jack, that her heart flip-flopped like a dying fish and her hormones rioted in agreement.

“Jack is always welcome at DeLuca’s,” she said, her gaze zeroed in on his. He had seen her—he must have seen her first—and the ache in her chest turned blade-sharp as the drugging effects of the hormonal rave wore off. That it hurt even more now to look at him shouldn’t have surprised her. Beauty like that bruised, but it was his gentle handling of Jules last week that had crushed her soul. Avoiding TV, magazines, the Internet, and her sister for however long it took to get over him was going to be really freaking hard.

Still, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. It may have been her imagination, but every hellish minute of their time apart was as evident on his face as she was sure it was on hers. That’s when another realization assaulted her.

Small-screen Jack might be a god, but real-life Jack, the brand made flesh, was
hers
, pain and all.

“He has a special place in our family for all he’s done.” She hesitated, then looked into Shona’s face with her cheekbones so sharp they could cut tin cans. At the bar, Jack’s intensity ringed him like a force field, repelling everything in its vicinity, or maybe it was an invisibility field because no one seemed to know he was here. There was something a little ironic about one of the most famous guys in the country, sitting anonymously at a restaurant bar while a media typhoon centered on him barreled through.

“Of course, when I first met him, I didn’t really see the appeal, to be honest.”

Shona did a cartoon double take and looked at her microphone like it might offer an explanation for what she’d just heard. “You didn’t?”

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s gorgeous. Right, Shona?”

“Um, yes, he is.” Shona giggled nervously, both aghast and thrilled at the intimate tone the interview had taken.

Lili leaned forward, her round shoulder brushing the bony one of her new gal pal. “Anyone would be lucky to have him, but you know, there was a time I didn’t even think he was all that.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, I thought he was just one of those guys who charms his way through life. Getting by on his looks. Not much going on upstairs. In fact, you’re not going to believe this. He’s not all that great…”

Shona’s upper body moved in, and Lili sensed the whole crowd cant forward by degrees, proxies for the TV-viewing public.

She paused long enough to work it. “…a singer.”

Somewhere behind her, Cara’s singular laugh, that naughty, girly gush, tinkled above the swelling murmurs of the throng.

“Oh.” Shona looked puzzled, like she’d just missed the punch line to a joke. Jack rubbed his mouth just then, and Lili knew he was concealing a smile. A seed of hope took root in her heart.

“Something else you might not believe, but in high school, I was overweight.” Shona’s expression changed to the phony sympathetic one she used when interviewing people about their missing cats. “I was bullied, physically and emotionally, and while I eventually got comfortable with my body, it wasn’t so easy to change the mind-set that stays with being a victim. I guess I’ve always aimed low because I wondered how any gorgeous guy could really be attracted to me. All of me. And even when there were no doubts on that score where Jack was concerned, I found other reasons to doubt him. To find fault with him—and with me.”

Shona looked like she was in media hog heaven, visions of sugarplums and local news Emmys dancing in her head. “And now?” she prompted hopefully, because this was the good stuff. The hearts-and-flowers, give-’em-what-they-paid-for, where’s-my-promotion-to-E! gold dust that the public demanded of its celebrities, even transient ones like Lili. Besides, the segment probably couldn’t go longer than three minutes, and Shona, like the good little reporter she was, needed to get to the bottom line.