New York
THREE DAYS LATER EM stood in the gorgeous lobby of
Hotel Hush, looking around in marvel. The carpet beneath
her feet was a pattern of blacks, greens, grays and pinks,
and felt so thick it was like walking on air. The grand
furniture and artwork on the vast walls brought to mind
the great old salons of the roaring twenties.
She knew from Hush's Web site that the place catered to
the young, wealthy and daring. It was eighty guest rooms
of fun, flirty sophistication and excitement, with
additional offerings such as designer penthouse suites
complete with personal butlers, an "it" bar named Erotique
that attracted the glitterati of New York, a luxurious
spa, a rooftop swimming pool...
And every available amenity was geared toward Hush's hook:
erotic fun. Guests could use their room's private video
camera complete with blank tapes, or any of the "toys" in
each armoire. And downstairs in the basement was a
discreet entertainment parlor where couples could engage
in semiprivate exhibition fantasies, and more. "More"
being sensual pleasures that only those with an extremely
open, worldly point of view would dare experience.
According to the info Em had gotten online, anything could
be obtained here, tried here, seen here. Anything at all.
Em couldn't even imagine the half of it. Not that it
mattered. She wasn't here for the pleasures. She was here
to see Amuse Bouche, and its chef. Nathan had chosen well.
It was rumored that Chef Jacob Hill was unparalleled in
the kitchen, any kitchen, and that he was a virtual modern-
day god.
And wildly, fabulously sexy to boot.
People said that his food was out of this world, that once
you ate something he cooked, you fell for him hook, line
and sinker. They said that his waitstaff had to guard the
doors to the kitchen, beating women off with a stick every
night.
She hoped that translated to great TV.
She'd tried to learn more about him, but interestingly
enough there wasn't much to learn. She'd found several
lists of impressive credentials, but with an odd omission โ
anything prior to five years ago was a complete blank.
Which meant either Chef Jacob Hill was relatively new to
his field, or he had a past he didn't care to advertise.
An enigma.
And the last piece to the puzzle of Em's success.
Hopefully he had one element common with the rest of the
human race, that he could be coaxed, by either the promise
of money or fame, all the way across the country to
L.A. "Look at this place," Liza said in awe. Liza was Em's
oldest friend and newest assistant. That she looked like
Barbara Eden circa I Dream of Jeannie had turned out to be
invaluable in the industry as far as getting things done
her way. Which was good, as Liza, never a warm, fuzzy
sort, never one to back off from a good fight, liked to
get her way. This made her an extremely efficient
assistant, if a rather fierce one.
"They sure take the art deco theme seriously, don't they?"
She looked all around them. "This stuff is all museum
quality."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's why the male guests come here."
This from Eric, Em's second-closest friend, and new
location director. He was looking at a bold, bright
painting of a very beautiful and very nude woman stretched
out on a luxurious daybed for all to see โ and he was
enjoying the view greatly, if the smile on his face was
anything to judge by. "The quality."
Liza rolled her eyes. "We're here for the restaurant."
"Yeah, and trust me, as a chef, good restaurants hold a
special place in my heart, but we're really here to save
Em's ass โ Oomph." Rubbing the ribs Liza had just elbowed,
he glared at her. "What? It's true."
Liza shook her head in disgust. "It's not true, and you're
not a chef."
"Am so."
"Are not."
Em sighed. The two of them possessed a unique talent for
getting a reaction out of each other, be it annoyance โ or
sexual tension.
Eric went back to ogling the nudes. "You're a dog," Liza
said to him. "Men are dogs."
"Woof, woof," Eric said.
If Eric was a dog, he was a good-looking one โ tall and
very Californian in his casual chinos, untucked polo
shirt, tennis shoes and sunglasses shoved to the top of
his blond mop. He had eyes the color of an azure sky, and
could stop traffic with a single smile.
Also handy when it came to getting his way.
Em couldn't do this without either of them. "I'm going to
check in," Liza said. "I'm getting a room as far from
yours โ" she pointed at Eric " โ as possible."
"Works for me." Eric gave a careless shrug. "Last chance,
Em. Save yourself all the trouble and use me as your chef.
You know I'm good."
He was good, but not formally trained, and such a goofball
that no one ever took him seriously. She was afraid that
would be apparent on the TV screen. "Eric โ" Emma said.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to the bar."
"Works for me," Liza snapped, and with a mutual growl,
both of them were gone, leaving Em standing in the lobby
alone. "Well," she said to herself. "This is going to be
fun."
The three of them together had always been fun before.
They'd made their way through college, existing on fun.
That is, until last year. That had been when Eric had been
stupid enough to tell Liza he loved her, then given her a
diamond ring and married her.
The marriage โ based on fun and lust โ had lasted for two
wild, sexually charged months before they'd had an
explosive fight. And because neither of them had ever had
a real relationship, neither of them had known what to do
with real love. Now, with all that emotion still pent up
inside them, with no way to deal with it, they snarled and
growled and bickered.
Em loved both of them, but if they didn't realize that
they just needed to trust themselves โ and get back in the
sack โ then she was going to lock them together in the
same room until they figured it out for themselves.
Another time, though. Because right now, Eric was right.
She had to save herself. To that end, she walked toward
check-in. The front desk had the same sexy sophistication
as the rest of the lobby, with its chest-high black marble
counters. The wall behind matched, broken only by the neon-
pink HUSH blazing in the center.
The check-in process was handled by a pretty woman wearing
a black tux with a pink tie and a friendly smile. "Twelfth
floor, same as your friends. Room 1212 for you. It's got a
great view of the city and should have everything you
need. Feel free to call us for anything."
If only it were that easy. Just call the front desk for
Chef Jacob Hill... She took the room key with a wry smile
and caught up with Liza and Eric at the elevators.
Eric held out a beer, lifting it in a toast. "This place
is really something. You can actually smell the excitement
in the air."
Liza inhaled and shrugged.
Eric laughed. "This place is for people who want a rush,
who want to feel cosmopolitan, exotic. I feel it."
"Since when did you ever want cosmopolitan, Mr. Beer-on-
the-couch-with-the-remote?" Liza asked.
"Since two women in Erotique practically lapped me up just
now."
Liza's eyes fired with temper but she merely
inquired, "Erotique?"
"The bar. You should have seen me in there. Hot stuff,
baby." He waggled his eyebrows. "You should have kept me
while you had the chance."
"Ha."
Appearing happy to have irritated the thorn in his side,
Eric smiled at Em. "Here's to phase two," he said and
lifted his beer in another toast. "To getting our TV chef."
Liza nodded. "To Em's success."
"Absolutely." Eric's eyes locked on hers and went warm,
his smile genuine.
Liza's slowly faded. "What?" he asked. "What's the
matter?" Liza shook her head. "Did we just...agree on
something?"
He laughed. "Doubt it."
"No, we did."
"Mark the calendar," he said softly. "Hell must have
frozen over."
"You're a funny guy."
"No, it's true." He stepped closer to her. "When we were
married, you'd disagree with me no matter what I said. I'd
say, "honey, the sky is blue," and you'd say, "nope, it's
light blue. Maybe dark blue. But not just blue, because I
wouldn't want to agree with you on anything, even a
frigging color thing.'"
Liza took a step toward him this time, her body leaning
forward. "That's not what I did."
Their noses nearly touched. "Truth hurts, doesn't it,
babe?"
The two of them were breathing heavily, tension dripping
off them in waves, and not all of it anger.
"Guys," Em said.
"You know what's the matter with you?" Liza asked Eric.
"No, but I'm guessing you're about to tell me."
"Guys?" Em said again.
"You think you're God's gift to women," Liza said to
Eric. "It's obnoxious."
"I'll try to keep it to myself then," Eric said lightly.
"Thanks."
"This was stupid," Liza said. "Being here, the two of us."
"Right. Em, you want to give up on this whole chef search
and just use me? Seeing as I'm God's gift and all? Then we
can all go home."
"We're doing this," Em said. "You guys can do this.
Please."
Eric looked at Liza. Liza looked back. Both sighed and
nodded.
Em let out a breath. She'd done her research. She was as
prepared as it got. They needed Jacob Hill, and she
intended to get him.
Her way.
As they waited for the elevator doors to open, Liza scoped
out a gorgeous man walking through the lobby.
Eric watched her, eyes shuttered.
Em sighed, then bent to pet a sleek black cat who'd showed
up out of nowhere, wearing a bright pink collar with a tag
that read Eartha Kitty. With a purr, Eartha Kitty wound
around Em's ankles until the elevator doors finally opened.
Em stepped on. The inside was as plush as the rest of the
place, lined with mirrors and decorative black steel. As
she contemplated the row of glowing pink buttons, the
doors began to close โ without Liza and Eric, who were
facing each other and once again bickering over something
or another.
Fed up, determined to do this with or without them, Em
pushed the twelfth-floor button. The doors slid all the
way closed, and blessed silence reigned. With a sigh, she
leaned back against the mirror, closing her eyes. If Liza
and Eric didn't kill each other by sunset, she'd happily
do the deed herself.
No, better yet, she'd lock them up in one of the rooms
here and let them work out their frustrations.
Unfortunately, Em had no outlet for her frustrations. Most
of the men in her life had turned out to be toads. Okay,
all of them had turned out to be toads, and though she'd
kissed quite a few while looking for her prince, he hadn't
yet showed up.
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