Page 3 of For Butter or Worse
“Children, this islive. And you promised to behave.” Tiffany listened to her headset. “Back in fifteen!” Tiffany walked away from them, disappearing behind the wall of cameras pointed their way.
“Did you miss a Botox session? I see a line.” She reached up to touch a finger to an imaginary spot on his forehead, and he swatted her hand away.
Her breath caught in her throat at the unexpected warmth of his skin against hers. But she immediately shook it off.
“Back in ten!”
“Why don’t you take your broom and ride off to the local coven meeting?” He ran a hand through his unfairly thick hair.
“Back in five!”
“That would be great for the show’s ratings. All alone, you’d rock that demo of viewers who love watching paint dry.” Nina smirked, happy to have the last dig before they went on-air.
“Three, two...” Tiffany’s voice faded and the red light on camera C blinked back to life.
“Welcome to the finale ofThe Next Cooking Champ!” Leo said in his fake, shellacked-on TV voice, which was smooth and measured in a way his natural one wasn’t.
The first time she’d heard that tone was the day they met, in a truly unglamorous casting office. When he’d walked in she’d assumed he was in the building for a different audition—leading man in an upcoming rom-com or handsome doctor in a future Shonda Rhimes drama. He had the good looks of an actor, and the arrogance of someone who wasn’t used to being told no. But, incredibly, he was there for the cooking show. He was in tailored, dark-wash jeans and a snug black shirt that fit him like poured chocolate ganache. He had thick chestnut waves, well-groomed facial hair and a distinguished nose that bent ever so slightly at the top. He was lean and defined, like he put in effort, but wasn’t about to say no to a slice of pizza. Or three. Which Nina preferred. She couldn’t get involved with someone who didn’t eat. Of course, now that she knew him, she would never ever, ever,everconsider being with someone like Leo.
Not that she dated. She didn’t have the time, unless you asked her sister, who thought it was more that Nina didn’tmaketime. Most men were intimidated by someone on television who had a reputation for being “difficult,” and her last relationship had been, well, an absolute failure.
“For those just tuning in, I’m Leo O’Donnell.”
“And I’m Nina Lyon. We have two contestants competing for the prize of two hundred thousand dollars, a cookbook deal and the title ofThe Next Cooking Champ,” she said, reading off the teleprompter.
She smiled for the cameras, but a big shot of genuine dopamine hit her at the same time. This was thefinaleof the third season. Her job was hosting a beloved cooking show, and she had the privilege of helping to change someone’s life for the better. She was damn lucky to be in this position. And she was a good mentor and chef. She wasn’t going to let the fact that Leo was standing next to her diminish any of what she’d achieved.
“That’s right,” Leo chimed in. “Our contestants have one hour remaining to present us with their appetizer, entrée and dessert courses. They’re cooking live so you can really get a sense of the pressure they’re currently under.”
She would definitely get through the taping. Why had she been so stressed about being with Leo? The night wasn’t about him, or her, really. She was just excited to see the dishes the chefs made for them. She could dothis.
“Let’s check in on our two finalists!” As she turned to move toward a cooking station, she caught Leo’s eye. He winked at her, a move so subtle she wasn’t even sure if the cameras caught it. But she did, and a quick flutter rose in her belly that then caused her to blink rapidly. A move she was absolutely sure the camerasdidcatch.He is so irritating, she told herself.
“Tell us about your entrée, Samantha.” Leo leaned across the counter, something he always did to endear himself to the contestants. “It looks like a dish I’d want to eat with a tall pint of beer.”
Samantha visibly relaxed at the comment. For all of Leo’s faults, Nina couldn’t deny how quickly he made the contestants feel at ease. He wanted them to succeed just as much as she did. Maybe she could remember that one positive trait whenever she wanted to stab daggers at him with her eyes.
Then he tap-tap-tapped his foot at Nina. He’d started this “fun” new tapping code during dress rehearsals. His way of signaling that he was waiting for her to speak. As if she couldn’t do her job fast enough for his liking. He’d found a secret way to irritate her, even though she’d asked him repeatedly to stop during rehearsals.
The response flowed out of her as if the tapping from his foot had turned on the faucet in the sink. “Speak slowly and simply so Leo can understand what you’re saying.”
She instantly regretted the dig. Hadn’t she just talked herself into trying to be nice to him? Being rude wasn’t who she was, not really. Only Leo brought out this side of her. When she watched clips from the show, she sometimes barely knew whom she was watching. She just couldn’t fake being polite with him, no matter how hard she tried. Still, this version of herself wasn’t who she wanted to be, or what she wanted the fans to witness.
He raised one thick eyebrow at her, a challenge. She’d tossed out the first grenade, and now he’d probably return with a cannon.
Shit.So much for not reacting to him. Being enemies was their dynamic—it was how they were. She just hoped they could make it through this live taping without destroying each other, and the show, in the process.
2
LEO
“Don’t look Nina directly in the eye or you’ll turn to dust,” Leo fired back. He relished getting under her skin. Seeing her cool, calm demeanor crack, even slightly, gave him a thrill.He, lowly Leo, had an effect onher, the unmovable Nina.
Then he remembered the cameras were rolling. People were watching at home, including his mother.Ah, shit.His mom was the head of their household, and she was going to give him hell for being rude. He clenched his jaw.
He shouldn’t have done the tapping thing. He knew it annoyed her. He just couldn’t help himself.
“Leo...” Nina’s voice was thick with condescension and her lips formed anOthat seemed poised to suck out his soul. “Look at you with a little joke. You arehilarious.” Weirdly, the low hum of her voice settled in his brain and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A primal defense mechanism telling him to flee before he was eaten alive.
