Staying For Good Page 34

“Mr. James Dean?”

She nodded.

“He’s hot!”

“Hands off,” she warned without heat in her words.

Felix once again lowered his glasses and studied her over the rims. “Looks like someone is getting a little somethin’, somethin’.”

Instead of confirming his suspicion, she offered a sly smile and continued, “Luke said something that I’m not sure is true.”

Felix pushed his glasses high on his nose and sat back. “I’m listening.”

“He said I could get a job anywhere if I wanted to.”

Felix sipped his beer. “Uh-huh . . . what else did he say?”

“Uhm, that’s it . . . that I was enough of a celebrity to get a job in bumfuck anywhere.”

This time when Felix unveiled his eyes, he set his glasses on the table and stared. “This is news to you?”

She blinked. “Well, I know I’m popular, that people go out of their way to visit the restaurant when I’m in the kitchen—”

“Zoe, darling . . .” He leaned forward. “If you wanted to relocate to France, Belgium, or Tallahassee, you’d have restaurants willing to redesign their kitchens to have you in them. Your name brings money to everything you touch. Hasn’t your bank account shown you that?”

She thought of her account, of the savings she’d been socking away since her first paycheck showed up after Warring Chef started to air. “It could all blow up tomorrow.”

“Who told you that?”

“I did, years ago. There are no guarantees.”

Felix reached over and touched her hand. “Do you know why you’re so popular in this world of foodies and networks dedicated to pasta soufflés?”

“Because I can cook.”

“No! Lots of people can cook. It means something to you. You’re down-to-earth and charming in front of that camera. Your story charmed the average American when Warring Chef hit the air and had plenty of them up in arms when you didn’t win.”

“Sebastian was better than me. He deserved to win.”

“That may be . . . but you were the girl next door who was determined to take second place and make it her own. Your friend Luke was right, sweetie. If you don’t believe me, I’ll put out a few calls and let some of our network friends know you’re looking for bigger and better avenues. Slaving away in Nahana can’t be good for your complexion.”

“It’s a great position.”

“It’s a stepping stone.”

“They pay me well.”

“So does my producer, but if you asked for more, he’d pay. Don’t tell him I told you that!” he quickly added.

Zoe looked down at her foil wrapped tacos and started to open one. “Thanks, Felix.”

“Anytime.” He leaned in again. “And if you ever decide to relocate, do it outside of this damn state. I’m sick of wearing cowboy boots.”

She glanced down at his loafer-clad feet.

Chapter Twelve

“Mel picked a date.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.” Luke sat over an open bucket of fried chicken in Wyatt’s backyard.

“Last weekend in August.”

“That’s only three months from now.”

“I know. But if we wait any longer, the window for an outdoor wedding at Miss Gina’s fades. Hope is out of school and can go down to the bay area with my parents while we honeymoon.”

“And where are you guys going?”

“I have no idea.”

Luke bit a chunk out of a chicken leg and waved the bone in the air. “When do you want the bachelor party and who do you want me to invite?”

“You’re still thinking Vegas?”

“I am. I’ll talk to Zoe and coordinate.”

“I think bachelor parties aren’t supposed to involve the bride.”

“It won’t. We’ll be on one side of the strip and the girls will be on the other. Outside of getting there, we probably won’t see them at all.”

Wyatt frowned. “What if I wanna get laid?”

“Then you sneak out like me and hook up with your woman without telling anybody.”

That had Wyatt smiling. “How is everything with you and Zoe?”

“Strange. We talk every night, text during the day. Feels like I’m a kid again.”

“So you plan to see her in Vegas?”

“I plan on all kinds of things.”

“Oh?”

Luke put the chicken down and wiped his hands on the napkin on the table. “I’m going to Texas next week.”

“That’s going to get expensive in a heartbeat.”

Luke thought about the interviews he had set up. “I’m thinking about moving.”

Wyatt stopped his hand midway to his beer. “To Texas?”

He shrugged. “I’m going to see what’s out there.”

“But you have a home here, a job with your dad.”

“Aww, Wyatt . . . I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes. “This is all about Zoe.”

“Zoe started it. I won’t deny that. I’ll be thirty in September . . .”

“And?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t done a whole lot with my life.”

Wyatt sat back, ran his fingers over the condensation on his longneck beer. “I hear ya. I knew I didn’t want to live in the city. When I found River Bend, I knew this was where I needed to be. If you’ve only ever been here, you might not know you belong.”

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