Page 30 of Forever Fighting
“Sure. Get me whatever you’re having.”
She snorts a laugh. “Mine is going to be girly and strong.”
I smirk. “I’ll take the strong part.”
“You got it, Chef.”
She leaves me here, lost in a mental fight I feel like I’ll lose either way the decision comes. I watch her moving, her effortless smile and adorable curiosity as she people-watches. She casts a spell of fire and heat in me that I no longer know how to extinguish.
“She’s beautiful,” a woman says from behind us, and I turn around to find a blonde in a red dress approaching me. “Is she yours?”
I frown. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I know you.”
A smile draws up her face, showing perfect white teeth. “Ah, but I know you. I’m Anne Sharpe. I’m a talent manager for Boston Nine’s entertainment division.”
Boston Nine. That’s Adam’s network. I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Sharpe.”
“You as well, Chef Fritz. I have to admit, I’ve followed your career very closely. It’s more than a little impressive.”
“Thank you,” I reply cautiously. There’s something about her that doesn’t sit quite right. Her smile’s a little too friendly. A little too knowing. The gleam in her eye a little too calculating.
“I’ve got an idea I’m going to pitch to my bosses, and it involves you.”
“Except I’m not interested in TV.”And I know your bosses, which I wonder if she’s aware of.
She pouts prettily and steps into me, her tits brushing against my chest ever so subtly as if that’ll sway me. “You haven’t heard my pitch. I can be very persuasive.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“It’d be a new series starring you.” She tickles a flirty finger into my chest. “Half Gordon Ramsay’sHell’s Kitchenand halfThe Bear. With your fame, good looks, and talent, I know you’d be a perfect fit for?—”
“I’m flattered,” I sharply interrupt, “but again, I’m not interested in television.”
Anne’s smile doesn’t waver. If anything, she looks more dangerous at my refusal. “Perhaps we could discuss this over coffee or a drink? There are aspects of the opportunity I believe might change your mind.”
Not only do I have zero interest in being the star of anything, but there are other pieces to the puzzle that come with this sort of gig. Things like dredging up Nash’s death for emotional content that will pull on the heartstrings of viewers. Things like editing and spinning my interactions and personality any way they choose. Things like deeper dives into my personal life than I can afford. My boxing would come out. It wouldn’t be tough to discover that the root cause of the names of my restaurants is more than simply my form of exercise or an at-home hobby as I’ve said in interviews in the past.
It would be exposed.
My restaurants could weather it. Hell, it might even boost them. But there are other factors like the illegality of it. The betting. The ability to continue doing it since once exposed, it would be shut down. Not to mention I could go to fucking jail. At the very least a criminal investigation would be started.
It’s why I stopped doing Food Network guest spots, and those were only about cooking and not me.
“My focus is on my restaurants,” I tell her firmly, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I’m not looking to diversify beyond that.”
“Everyone has their price, Chef. Or incentives yet to be tapped into.” She hands me a business card that I accept purelyout of reflex. “When you change your mind, give me a call. As I said, I’m very interested in bringing you in for this show, and I think we could work very well together.”
She glides away, and a moment later, Braelyn is back holding her pink drink and my bourbon. “This is so good. You have to taste it.”
A real smile returns to my lips, and I lean in and wrap my hand around the glass she’s holding. Our fingers brush, half interlocking, and I draw the pretty glass up to my lips to sip from it.
I let go of the glass and her touch, even if I can still feel it on my fingers. “Very good. What is it?”
“A bourbon Cosmo. I’ve never had one before, but I might be converted. It’s one of your specialty drinks. Yours is straight bourbon as you can see.”
“This drink was Lydia’s idea. I’m glad you like it.”
“She picked a good one. Who were you talking to? I only saw a lot of red and blonde.”
