be … very manly?
Which, of course, would be in keeping with the rest of him.
It was all very difficult, knowing he was her father’s man. It was also difficult to concentrate on getting everything right for the meal; vegetables to go into the oven, reheating the soup, greens ready for last-minute microwaving, mint sauce on the dining-room table. She would have to sit next to him again; probably a blessing since this table wasn’t a round one and he couldn’t see what was written on her face unless he turned to her.
So far, he wasn’t giving her any special attention and it was probably better if it stayed that way—no dilemma between temptation and caution. He was bound to have a woman in the wings, anyway. Eddie had girls falling all over him and she couldn’t imagine it would be any different for Jake Freedman—another reason for not getting involved with him. Being perceived as just one of an available crowd had no appeal.
Although being the boss’s daughter, he would have to treat her with respect.
Which she’d hate.
Whatever way she looked at it, having Jake Freedman was no good. Besides, he wasn’t exactly holding out the chance to have him, though he might before the day was over. As her mother said, there had to be a purpose behind this visit. If a connection with her was the desired end, she had to be ready for it, ready to say no.
The soup was hot enough to serve. Telling herself she was lucky to have the distraction of being the cook, Laura returned to the patio to invite everyone inside for lunch. Eddie escorted her mother to the dining room. Jake Freedman followed with her father, the two men obviously on congenial terms.
Another warning.
Her father must have once been charming to her mother or she wouldn’t have married him. His true character could not have emerged until she was completely under his domination. If Jake Freedman was of like mind, thinking he had the right—the power—to rule others’ lives as he saw fit, she wanted nothing to do with him.
Jake continued to get his bearings with the Costarella family over lunch. Eddie had dropped out of school and left home at sixteen, getting himself a job as a backroom boy in one of the television studios.
‘One day you’ll regret not going on with your education,’ his father said balefully.
He shrugged. ‘Accountancy was never going to suit me, Dad.’
‘No. Head in the clouds. Just like your mother.’
The tone of disgust caused Alicia to flush. She was a more fragile person than her perfectly groomed image presented, very nervy and too anxious to please. He was recalling Laura’s comment that her mother needed her when she leapt to Alicia’s defence.
‘Oh, I think Mum’s totally grounded when it comes to her garden.’
‘Garden … movies …’ Costarella scoffed. ‘Alicia has led both of you astray with her interests. I had high hopes for you, Laura. Top of your school in mathematics …’
‘Well, I have high hopes for myself, Dad. Sorry I can’t please both of us,’ she said with a rueful smile.
‘Gardening …’ he jeered.
‘Landscape architecture is a bit more than that, Dad.’
No hesitation in standing up for herself.
Costarella huffed. ‘At least you can cook. I’ll say that for you. Enjoying the meal, Jake?’
‘Very much.’ He shot an appreciative smile at Laura. ‘Top chef standard. The soup was delicious and I’ve never tasted better lamb and baked potatoes.’
She laughed. ‘Top chef recipes from a TV cooking show. All it takes is dedication to following the instructions. You could do it yourself if you had the will to. It’s not a female prerogative. In fact, most of the top chefs are male. Do you cook for yourself?’
‘No. Mostly I eat out.’
‘Need a woman to cook for you,’ Costarella slid in.
It was a totally sexist remark and he saw the recoil from it in Laura’s eyes, followed by a derisive flash at him … if he thought the same.
He turned to Costarella and allowed himself one risky remark, grinning to take away any sting. ‘Given that most top chefs are male, a man might be better.’
Eddie found this hilarious, cracking up with laughter.
‘What’s so funny?’ his father demanded.
‘It’s just that lots of guys in the service industry are gay and I don’t see Jake as gay,’ he spluttered out.
Laura started giggling, too.
‘I’m not,’ Jake said.
‘Certainly not,’ Costarella declared emphatically.
‘We know you’re not,’ Laura assured him, still tittering.
‘Absolutely.’ Eddie backed up. ‘Laura wouldn’t think you were sexy if you were gay.’
‘Eddie, behave yourself,’ Alicia cried.
‘Impossible,’ his father muttered, though his ill humour had dissipated at this affirmation that his daughter was vulnerable to the attraction he favoured.
Laura rose from the table. ‘Now that you’ve embarrassed both of us, Eddie, I’m going to serve sweets, which I hope will be tart enough to glue up your mouth.’ She smiled at her mother. ‘It’s lemon-lime, Mum.’
‘Oh, my favourite!’ Alicia glowed with pleasure. ‘Thank you, dear.’
Jake watched her head off to the kitchen again. It would be risky business, taking on a connection with her, complicating what had been his undeviating purpose for too many years to mess with when he was in sight of the end. She could become a distraction. He’d been single-minded for so long, readjusting his thinking to include a relationship with Costarella’s daughter was probably not a good idea, however tempting it was.
Cynically dating her for short-term benefits at work was no longer an option. He was genuinely attracted to her. Strongly attracted to her. She had his skin prickling with the desire for action between them. Costarella expected him to make a move on her. He wanted to make a move on her. The tricky part was controlling it.
‘How come you’re not sharing Mother’s Day with your own Mum, Jake?’ Eddie suddenly asked.
‘I would be if she were still alive, Eddie,’ he answered ruefully.
‘Oh! Sorry!’ He made an apologetic grimace. ‘Hope the bereavement isn’t recent.’
‘No.’
‘Guess I’m lucky I’ve still got mine.’ He leaned over to plant a kiss on Alicia’s cheek.
‘Yes, since you’ve always been a mother’s boy,’ Costarella sniped.
There was a flicker of fear in the look Alicia darted at her husband. Jake imagined she had been a victim of abuse for so long, she felt helpless to do anything about it.
‘I’ve been admiring the very artistic centre-piece for the table,’ he said, smiling at her to take the anxiety away. ‘Are they flowers from your garden, Alicia?’
‘Yes.’ Her face lit up with pleasure. ‘I did that arrangement this morning. I’m very proud of my chrysanthemums.’
‘And rightly so, Mum,’ Laura chimed in, wheeling the traymobile into the dining room. ‘They’re blooming beautifully.’
She served the lemon-lime tart with dollops of cream to everyone, continuing her praise of her mother’s talent for horticulture.
Jake watched her. She was beautiful. And smart. And so lushly sexy, temptation roared through him, defying the reservations that had been swimming through his mind.
As