Melanie laughed. Everything was going to be okay. As always, Nana was there to keep her sane. "Sounds good to me."
"You're darn tootin'," Nana said. "As we're so fond of saying here at the Pampered Palate, let's get cookin'!"
Chris sat in his corner office and reached for the stack of financial statements piled on his mahogany desk. His morning had consisted of writing a proposal for a new client, a series of budget meetings, and lunch with a prospective new hire.
Turning his attention to the mountain of paperwork awaiting him, he pored over the balance sheets and income and cash flow statements, but he found it difficult to concentrate on the endless columns of figures.
The numbers blurred and ran together as images of Melanie flashed through his mind, distracting him, disrupting his train of thought. Her bright smile and infectious laugh. Those chocolatey eyes and full, kissable lips.
The incredible taste of those full, kissable lips.
Remembering their steamy kisses killed whatever small bit of concentration he had left. Tossing down his pencil in defeat, he decided he needed a strong cup of coffee. He was just about to head for the break room when Glenn Waxman, the senior partner, walked into his office and closed the door behind him.
Chris immediately noticed two things. One, Glenn held a manila folder in one hand. And two, Glenn had his other hand clapped over his mouth.
"What's up, Glenn?"
"Hmmphttpshm," replied Glenn through his fingers.
Chris laughed. "I might understand you better if you moved your hand."
"Hmmphttspm." Glenn removed his hand and curled back his upper lip.
His two front teeth were gone.
"What the hell happened to you?" Chris asked, staring at the gaping black hole in amazement. The always perfectly groomed Glenn Waxman looked like a full-grown second-grader.
"I lotht my crownth," Glenn said, his face puckered in a grimace. "I've got an emergenthy dentith appointment." He thrust the manila folder into Chris's hands. "Can you handle thith for me? Shouldn't take you more than an hour."
"Sure. No problem."
"Thankth. I owe ya one."
"How could I say no to a guy who sounds like Daffy Duck?"
"Ha, ha, ha. You're hythterical. Thee you tomorrow." Glenn clapped his hand over his mouth and left.
Postponing his coffee break for the moment, Chris opened the folder Glenn had given him. He froze the instant he saw the name at the top of the first page.
Melanie Gibson.
His attention riveted, he scanned Glenn's notes. Melanie was applying for a fifty-thousand-dollar loan to purchase a catering truck and had hired Waxman, Barnes, Wiffle, and Hodge to conduct the independent review required by the bank. Chris noted that the bank was one of his firm's clients.
So that's why the name Pampered Palate had seemed so familiar to him. He must have heard Glenn or one of the other partners talking about the upcoming review. As it wasn't his client, he wouldn't have paid particular attention.
Until now.
According to Glenn's scribbled notes, he needed conduct an on-site inspection of the facilities and pick up the client's paperwork and books. Bob Harris, a junior accountant, would be handling the actual review. They had an appointment at the Pampered Palate at four o'clock.
Chris glanced at his watch. Ten past three. A slow smile eased over his face. He'd known he would see Melanie again-he'd had every intention of making sure that happened.
He just hadn't realized it would happen quite so soon.
At five minutes to four, Melanie paced around the Pampered Palate's kitchen like an expectant father in a maternity waiting room. The butterflies in her stomach had butterflies. She tried taking deep breaths, but she was afraid she would hyperventilate.
There's no reason to be nervous. Of course not. It's not like this was important or anything.
Nana laid a comforting hand on Melanie's arm. "Calm yourself. The apple pie is cooling, the ice cream is made, and the dinner rush won't start for another hour. It's not going to help if you faint on them."
Melanie smiled and laid her hand over Nana's. "I know. I just want everything to be perfect."
"Everything is perfect. Stop worrying. You'll get pimples."
"Goodness knows I don't need…" Her voice trailed off as the bell on the front door jingled. "Oh, boy. It's them." Squaring her shoulders, she drew a deep breath, beat back her panic, and left the kitchen.
Two tall men stood in the front room. One was handsome and unfamiliar.
The other one smiled at her and she all but swallowed her tongue.
Good grief, what was he doing here? She couldn't talk to him now. The accountants were coming!
And darn him for casually dropping by and reminding her how beautiful he was. It had been at least three minutes since she'd thought of him. How was she supposed to forget him if he kept on showing up?
Forcing a calm she definitely didn't feel, Melanie walked around the counter. Before she could utter a word, the unfamiliar man asked, "Are you Miss Gibson?"
At her nod he extended his hand. "I'm Bob Harris. From Waxman, Barnes, Wiffle, and Hodge. Chris tells me the two of you have already met."
Melanie wasn't sure what kind of expression she had on her face, but whatever it was, it prompted Bob Harris from Waxman, Barnes, Wiffle, and Hodge to add, "We're the accountants. I, er, believe you were expecting us?"
Melanie shook his hand, somehow remembering how to speak. "I had an appointment with Glenn Waxman."
When Chris extended his hand, Melanie shook it and tried to ignore the sizzle that snaked up her arm at his touch.
"Glenn had an emergency," Chris said, holding her hand just a bit longer than necessary. "He asked me to fill in for him today. Bob here will be doing the bulk of the work, and Glenn will review it."
"So the accounting firm you work for is-"
"Waxman, Barnes, Wiffle, and Hodge," Chris said. "Guardian Savings and Loan is our client."
"I see." Perfect. Just when she needed all her wits about her, she was faced with the one man who made her forget her own name.
Melanie decided her only defense was to not look at him. If she didn't see him, she wouldn't think about him. If she didn't think about him, she could concentrate on the task at hand. She therefore focused her attention on Bob Harris with the zeal of a scientist peering at brain cells through a microscope. "What do we do first?"
"Let's start with a tour of the facilities," Bob suggested with a friendly smile. He sniffed. "It sure smells great in here. Like apple pie."
"We just took one out of the oven," Melanie said, mentally blessing Nana as she led the way toward the kitchen. "Maybe you'd like a piece with some homemade vanilla ice cream before you leave?"
"Sounds great," said Bob.
The instant they entered the kitchen, Nana descended on them. "Well, if it isn't the hunk," she said, her face wreathed in a huge smile. She enveloped Chris in a bone-jarring hug, leaving floury hand prints on the back of his navy suit jacket.
"Nice to see you, Nana," Chris said, grinning.
"You, too, handsome." She jerked her head toward Bob. "You bring him along for me for a double date? He's kinda young, but that's okay. He's real cute. Great butt." She turned to Bob. "Want some pie, honey?"
The expression on Bob's face reminded Melanie of a driver's license photo-bewildered and dumbstruck. Choking back a laugh she said, "Nana, Chris and Bob are the accountants we've been expecting."
Nana looked crestfallen. "You mean no double date?"
Melanie shook her head. "’Fraid not."
"Dang it." Nana shrugged in a philosophical manner. "Oh, well, I'd best get back to work. Let me know when you're ready for that pie."
Melanie led the two of them on a complete tour of the spacious professional kitchen, explaining the daily operations.