For the Love of Cake (22 page)

“It was good to meet you, Ms. Vaughn,” the future district attorney said, and Maya realized she’d missed most of his remarks for several minutes. He, however, didn’t seem to notice. She smiled and nodded, a gesture she’d perfected over the years to encourage the other person to carry the conversation. He gave her an insincere grin of his own and continued. “We certainly have our share of celebrities in this town.” He placed his hand alongside his mouth, palm out as if about to tell her a secret. “A few I’ve even aided during my days as a criminal-defense attorney.”

He seemed to be implying that she might know what it was like to be on the wrong side of a courtroom, thus indicating he knew little to nothing about her. Despite her bad-girl image, she’d never been in trouble with the law. She didn’t drink and drive, she’d never been arrested—hell, she’d never even assaulted a paparazzi, though she’d run into more than one who might have deserved it.

*

Shannon paused just inside the door, hovering at the edge of the group of competitors. She scanned the room, telling herself she just wanted to see if she recognized anyone local. She located Greta near the bar, apparently giving instructions to a group of servers. She was inordinately pleased to find that Maya was nowhere in the vicinity. On some level, she’d been mentally preparing herself to see the two of them together again.

Resuming her visual voyage around the room, she found Maya talking to a rotund man near the center of the room. She seemed only half-interested in the conversation. In fact, it was difficult to tell from her distance and because she was angled slightly away from the door, but she actually felt Maya’s attention directed at their side of the room.

Shannon gave her a quick once-over, surprised by the sedate black pantsuit. The well-tailored jacket traced the lines of her torso and ended a few inches below her waist, leaving Shannon the perfect view of Maya’s amazing ass inside wonderfully fitted slacks. When Maya turned their way, the edges of her jacket gaped open to reveal a red, lacy bustier, and Shannon’s mouth went dry. So much for a sedate pantsuit. If only she were close enough to see the swells of breasts lifted so perfectly by that garment.

Alice laughed and, startled, Shannon jerked her eyes away from Maya.

“What?”

“I wish you could see your face. You wouldn’t be trying to convince me you’re not lusting after her.”

“Okay. She’s gorgeous. I never denied that.”

“We probably have a few minutes before they corral us so we can all pat Ned on the back. You should go talk to her.”

“You don’t even like her.
And
you already warned me about getting my hopes up. So why are you encouraging me to spend time with her now?”

Alice shrugged. “I may not like her, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see the way you light up when you look at her. If you’re determined to get your heart broken, who am I to stop you?”

She wasn’t sure if Alice was being a friend or not. She still seemed to believe Maya couldn’t possibly return her interest or that Maya was capable of being more than the player everyone else saw her as. Maybe she hoped heartache would distract Shannon from success on the show.

Shannon looked at Maya again. She’d shoved her hands in the front pockets of her pants, pushing the lower edges of her jacket behind them. The contrast of the very feminine flash of red smoothing over her breasts and stomach and into the somewhat masculine low-rise waistband of her tuxedo-like pants did strange things to Shannon’s heart rate. She stepped forward, with only a little regard for their surroundings. She glanced discreetly around for the cameras, but even if one of the guys with the handhelds was following her, she didn’t think she could stop her feet from propelling her forward. She couldn’t be in a room with Maya without talking to her—without wanting to be near her.

Maya turned away from the gentleman she’d been talking to just as Shannon walked up. And as she spun, she almost ran into Shannon.

“You got a haircut,” Shannon blurted.

“Yeah. I asked one of the stylists to stay after filming today and do it before the party.” Maya rubbed her hand over her hair, ruffling it in the most adorable way. “He went a little shorter on top than I’m used to.”

“Turn around.” Shannon circled one finger in the air.

Maya spun slowly. The sides and back were as short as always, but the top had been cut a couple of inches shorter than she usually wore it and had been styled into a faux hawk.

“I like it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Especially with that outfit.” She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes from dipping toward Maya’s cleavage for an obscenely long moment of appreciation.

Maya raised her eyebrows. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were tempted to flirt with me a little just now.”

She smiled, the laid-back atmosphere of the party apparently keeping her more relaxed than usual. She didn’t even care that she’d so obviously cruised Maya just now. “Maybe the champagne is going to my head.”

Maya laughed. “I don’t believe you’ve had any yet.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m feeling a bit light-headed already.” She shouldn’t have said it, and she certainly shouldn’t have allowed that teasing lilt into her voice. But a part of her wanted to prove that she hadn’t imagined the attraction between them. Though Alice didn’t believe Maya would be interested, and because Greta so obviously was, Shannon just might have a chance, even if she still contended that she didn’t want one. By the time she’d finished thinking she’d confused even herself.

Maya tilted her head but didn’t respond, almost as if she could see the circular logic running around in Shannon’s head. She pressed the flute she’d been holding into Shannon’s hand, letting her fingers trail along the backs of Shannon’s knuckles as she let go. “Take mine.”

Shannon drained it quickly, then looked around for someplace to set the empty glass. She grinned and gave a half shrug. “In the movies, right now I’d place this on the tray of the perfectly timed passing waiter and grab another glass.”

“Sadly, things so rarely happen like they do in the movies.”

“That’s right.”

Just then a waiter walked by with a full tray. Maya grabbed another glass and switched out the empty one in Shannon’s hand. “Not quite as smooth as if it was directed, but close enough.”

Shannon lifted her glass in a salute before taking another sip. She held back with this glass, because even though she wasn’t opposed to a good buzz right now, she really was a bit of a lightweight when it came to champagne.

“Have you ever been here before?” Maya asked.

“Once. On a horrible first date.”

“How can a date that begins at the Clit House go wrong?”

The champagne Shannon had just tried to delicately sip almost came out her nose. She managed to contain it to just a tiny cough and a tickle of bubbles that made her eyes water.

“That’s horrible,” she rasped.

“Tell me that’s not what it sounded like when Eric said it.”

“It really did.” She laughed out loud, then covered her mouth with her hand when she accidently snorted. Her face burned with embarrassment, and she looked around quickly but no one else seemed to have heard it. After a flash of confusion across her features, Maya smiled so widely it didn’t seem she could be holding anything back, and another rush of heat raced up Shannon’s neck. “What?” Shannon waved a finger in Maya’s face. “What’s that expression?”

The smile dropped from Maya’s lips, and she pulled the lower one between her teeth. For a moment, the anticipation of what she might say had Shannon’s heart racing. But whatever had brought the serious look flew away just as quickly, and her eyes shifted to neutral. “Nothing.”

Shannon was about to question her further when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A cameraman skirted around a large group, apparently angling for a shot of the two of them. Shannon quickly assessed their positions, assuring herself that with the respectable distance between them, they could simply look like mentor and mentee.

While she was keeping an eye on the cameraman, Greta had approached and purred a greeting to Maya.

Shannon spun back around, and her head swam a little at the too-quick motion. How many glasses of champagne had she had?

“Good evening, Chef Hayes.” Greta greeted her politely but with an air of detachment. But when she spoke again, to Maya, her voice dropped to a more personal tone, and she wrapped her hand around Maya’s bicep. “Are you going to hide over here talking shop all night?”

Shannon bristled at the implication that they had nothing to talk about except the show. Maya didn’t seem as adversely affected. Granted, her smile seemed forcibly polite, but she also covered Greta’s hand and gave it an obvious squeeze.

“I think we’re both here for work, at least a little bit, aren’t we?”

“Well, of course, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a little pleasure as well, does it?”

Shannon rolled her eyes at the way Greta drew out the question. She obviously imagined herself as some type of siren, but truthfully, she wasn’t even very good. She was beautiful, Shannon had to give her that. Maybe when you looked like that, it didn’t matter so much what you said.

“Unfortunately, tonight is all business for me.” Maya winked at Greta as if they shared some private secret, and Shannon began looking for a way to escape the awkward situation. These two probably wouldn’t even notice she was gone. She’d just taken two steps away when Maya grabbed her arm. “Actually, Greta, I think Hugh is going to need Shannon and me soon for the cake presentation. So if you’ll excuse us. Perhaps I’ll catch up with you later.”

Shannon tried to jerk her arm away, but Maya held on.

“I hope you’ll find me when you’re through.”

Maya led Shannon toward the other end of the room where some of the chefs had gathered.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Shannon ground out when they’d cleared Greta’s earshot.

“What?”

Now she did pull her arm away, irrationally angry that she missed the contact as soon as it was gone. “The touching, the flirting—it’s part of who you are.”

“I guess I don’t always think about it.” When Shannon gave her a look of disbelief, she said, “Okay. I never think about it. Stuff just comes out of my mouth.”

“So you think you can flash that sexy smile and it’s okay—it’s just who you are?”

“You think my smile is sexy?” Maya raised her pierced brow and one side of her mouth in that way that made Shannon melt and, now, made her even more irritated with her inability to control her reactions.

“Oh, you know it is. That’s why you do it.” The champagne made her more honest than she’d intended.

Maya steered them off to the side of the room and slowed their progress toward the rest of the group. When they got close to a door leading to an unoccupied patio, she pushed Shannon through it. “Yes, it’s an automatic reaction. What do you want me to say?” She continued forward so Shannon had no choice but to back up.

“Nothing. Never mind.” She liked thinking that it didn’t mean anything when Maya flirted with Greta, but she didn’t want to hear that Maya wasn’t engaged when she flirted with
her
—that it was reflex.

“Nothing happened.” Maya met Shannon’s eyes, but her expression was unreadable in the shadows of the darkened patio.

Shannon laughed harshly. “I don’t believe that. I saw her grab your ass in the kitchen earlier today. Women don’t typically do that without encouragement.”

“They do when they think they’ll get something out of it. Women don’t always come on to me because they’re interested in
me
.” Maya tugged at the front of her hair in seeming frustration. “Okay, you want details? Yes, she kissed me. In my dressing room. I stopped it there.”

Shannon smothered a gasp at the ache that stabbed her chest at the thought of Maya and Greta in her dressing room. “No. No, I don’t think I want the details,” she whispered.

“This is ridiculous. You’re mad at me because someone flirted with me?” Maya backed off, lowering her voice, and leaned against the brick half wall that separated the empty patio from the parking lot.

“I didn’t see you fighting her off.” Shannon spoke softer as well. She glanced through the glass panes in the patio door to make sure their raised voices hadn’t drawn any attention, then shook her head to clear away her inappropriate possessiveness. “I’m not
mad
at you. I don’t have any right to—”

“I was being polite.”

“Please don’t insult me. I saw what I saw.”

“What do you care who I flirt with?” Maya snapped.

“I—I don’t—I just—”

“What?” Maya sounded frustrated.

“Because you—I don’t know.”

“Ah—God, just say it,” she growled. “Just—say it. Why would it bother you if something did happen with her? That’s obviously exactly what you and everyone else expect of me anyway.”

“Because I want you to flirt with me,” Shannon practically shouted, then winced as her words echoed across the parking lot around them. Her declaration was made even bigger by the silence that followed it.

Maya stared at her.

“I want you to flirt with me and mean it,” Shannon whispered into the stillness.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Maya smiled.

“Because it’s not a good idea.”

“You keep saying that to me. And I’m supposed to—what—just accept it?” She pushed away from the wall and took a several frustrated steps toward Shannon, still keeping an arm’s length between them.

“Yes.”

“Then tell me why.”

“What?”

“Why isn’t it a good idea? Why shouldn’t we give in to the incredible urge to do something that feels so good—something I promise we would both enjoy very much?”

Shannon’s response died as the force of Maya’s words hit her, coupled with images of them together that only a masochistic mind could conjure up. “I—we—I can’t think when I look at you.”

“Tell me why we can’t.” When Shannon would have looked away, Maya grasped her chin and forced her to meet her eyes. “We were just opening this conversation up. Don’t stop now.”

“You already know,” she said, resignation making her voice heavy.