She blew out a breath, annoyed by the burn of tears behind her eyes. “The assistant has called in sick, so basically, I’m screwed. I can’t do this all on my own . . .” She trailed off, horrified to find her throat tightening. She cleared it and continued. “Anyway, I can’t stand around chatting. I’ve got work to do.”
“Let me help,” he said, the concern in his eyes almost undoing her completely. “I can be your assistant.”
His offer stunned her, and she gaped at him for a moment before reassembling her wits.
“Don’t be silly. You’ve got more important things to do than take orders from me.”
When his brow arched in amusement, like he’d enjoy taking orders from her in other rooms besides the kitchen, she added, “Besides, you don’t know anything about food styling.”
“I’m a fast learner.” He shrugged, like his offer meant nothing, when she wanted to fling herself into his arms and hug him. “Seriously, if you want my help, I’m offering.”
This was crazy. Why would a doctor she barely knew, and had thoroughly insulted by covering his face in cream then ignoring his text, want to help her?
She met his steady stare and her angst faded. Despite her previous assumptions, and her overreaction to his insulting her work at the wedding, Manny was a good guy. He didn’t have to do this, but he’d offered to save her ass despite the way she’d treated him. She’d be a fool not to accept.
“I’m pretty bossy,” she said, brandishing the turkey baster. “And I’ll probably take an inordinate amount of pleasure in telling you what to do. Barking orders. Humiliating you. That kind of thing.”
He grinned, and her heart did that weird little flip-flop thing it had done the first time he’d smiled at her at the wedding.
“I’m all yours, for however long you need me.”
That’s what she was afraid of.
14
Manny wasn’t prone to doing crazy things to impress women. He liked a woman, he flirted, they reciprocated, they dated. Easy.
So what the hell was he doing, running around like a madman as Harper barked orders at him?
The last few hours had been manic, and she hadn’t been kidding about needing an assistant. No way could she have done this shoot on her own. He’d helped lift heavy platters and fruit bowls, move tables, and arrange props. And that’s when he wasn’t handing her equipment so she could work at a frantic pace, making the dishes appear particularly delectable.
She made a rack of lamb look like a work of art; mussels look so fresh, like they’d just been pried off rocks; and whitebait fritters so pretty he wanted to gobble them in one go.
They hadn’t stopped for a break over the last four hours, and the delicious aromas of the food, along with her immaculate presentation, made his stomach rumble. But Harper had made it clear: no tasting the food until they’d finished, and while cold lamb and mussels held little appeal, he’d happily eat the lot the minute she called quit.
A photographer buzzed around, changing lighting and angles, taking hundreds of shots. Manny couldn’t believe this much work went into producing those food pictures in magazines. Once she’d arranged the dishes Harper didn’t stop, ducking between the photographer to move a sprig of parsley or glazing the lamb to make it look extra juicy. She’d barely glanced his way, her focus so intent she could give some surgeons he’d worked with a run for their money.
When the photographer finally laid down his camera and said, “Good job,” Manny was ready for a nap. Pulling an extra shift at the hospital had never drained him as much as this.
“Right, time to start packing up, Manny,” Harper said, beckoning him over to the banquet table where the food had been set up. “You hungry?”
She leaned toward him. “This is the best part of the job,” she murmured, pointing to the dishes. “Jock McKell’s recipes are famous, and I can’t wait to taste these.”
“I’m starving,” he said, offering her the plate of fritters before pouncing on them.
Harper took a bite and her eyes fluttered shut. “So good.”
Manny’s hand paused halfway to his mouth as he stared at the ecstatic expression on Harper’s face. Damn, he’d give anything to see something similar but in the privacy of his hotel room.
As if sensing him staring, her eyes snapped open and when she saw him gawping at her, she blushed.
“As you can see, I love all aspects of food, especially the tasting,” she said, raising her fritter in a toast. “Eat up.”
He did as he was told, savoring the melt-in-the-mouth texture of the fritter but unable to process the flavor as he watched Harper eat. There was something inherently beautiful about a woman who enjoyed her food, and he could’ve gawked at her all day. What was left of it, considering darkness had descended and they hadn’t noticed.
After demolishing three fritters and two lamb cutlets, Harper wiped her hands on a serviette. “I can’t thank you enough for today.”
“My pleasure,” he said, surprised to find he meant it.
When he’d first offered to help, he’d done it out of chivalry. She’d been genuinely upset, and the sheen of tears in her eyes had undone him completely. He could’ve spent the afternoon by the hotel pool reading for pleasure, something he rarely had time for. Instead, he’d run around after Harper like a lackey and hadn’t minded. Watching her work had been eye-opening, and it solidified what he knew: he wanted to get to know her better.
“Once we pack up, can I buy you a drink?”
Her hesitation disappointed him. Surely, spending an hour or so chilling wasn’t so arduous considering she’d been more than happy to have him around all afternoon?
“I’m exhausted and I need to plan for tomorrow’s shoot, but sure, a drink would be nice after we pack up.”
Buoyed by her answer, he mock frowned. “Pack up?”
“I’m not done ordering you around yet, mister,” she said, with a smirk. “Now hop to it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted, adding a “bossy boots” under his breath.
She laughed, a pure, joyous sound that made Manny want to say screw the drink and invite her up to his room.
“Manny?”
“Yeah?”
“I owe you one.”
She winked before turning away, leaving Manny staring at her gorgeous ass and thanking the karma gods he didn’t believe in for this giant cosmic coincidence of placing Harper in his path.
15