I want You Deeper

Renee set her phone down and immersed herself in making dinner. Interestingly, she found that cooking helped her think. And right now, what she needed to do was think.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

That morning, before breakfast, she’d sat on her bed and written the beginning of her article on Derek Hughes, missing billionaire. It was based on the information he’d given her about his father. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she had a feeling the key to figuring out why he was missing was in that relationship somehow.

Halfway through writing the opening to the story, though, she realized she needed more. She needed to track down his father.

And that was what rolled through her mind as she chopped onions and minced garlic. It wasn’t easy to get information on someone, but she had resources. All professional journalists did. The problem was, she had to rely solely on Wi-Fi until they at least got closer to land since her phone wasn’t working out here in the middle of nowhere. Not being able to make a phone call would get in the way a little.

“Need help?”

Renee jumped, barely missing her thumb with the knife she was holding. Derek was standing just inches away. It wasn’t that he’d snuck in on her. It was that he’d snuck in on her while she’d been thinking about his very personal family relationships.

“You want to help?” she asked, setting the knife down so she could catch her breath.

“You taught me how to make caramel-chocolate popcorn last night, so why not salmon and…what’s that?” He pointed at the cutting board.

She looked down, then up at him again. “On-ions.” She enunciated the word slowly.

That got the desired response-a hearty laugh. He headed around her to the fridge, where he extracted a bottle of cold coffee.

“You want to see my trick for chopping onions?” Renee asked once he was standing next to her again.

“Go for it.”

She scooped the existing pile of onions into the bowl and grabbed the section she hadn’t touched yet. He took a swig of the coffee and stepped closer to watch.

Maybe he shouldn’t stand so close when she was working with a knife.

Just feeling the warmth of his body next to her had her all shaken up.

“You don’t cut the whole onion at once?” he asked.

“Nope. Not with this technique.”

It wasn’t some professional chef thing. She’d watched a video on it once. But the technique made perfectly diced onions quickly, so she figured it would impress him.

“Okay, I’m definitely learning to cook from you,” he commented after she’d finished. “This is the kind of cooking lesson I like. ‘How to do things easier.'”

“I used to cook for my dad like this,” she admitted as she melted butter in a pan to start the salmon. She honestly had no idea where that had come from. Suddenly, she felt this weird urge to open up to him.

“When you were a kid?”

“Starting as a child but continuing when I was a teenager. My mom was all about making things quickly and easily, but I was drawn to these cooking shows. You know, the ones where they spend twenty minutes showing you how to make something, then open the oven and there’s one already completely made inside?”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed. “It always makes me wonder why they put all that work into it when one was already done.”

“So, I guess my technique is a combination of my mom’s hacks and what I learned from professionals over the years.”

She realized, even as she spoke, that she was venturing dangerously close to flat-out lying to him. She’d learned the exact way to make every single item that was served at the restaurant she worked at in college. But beyond that, what she’d learned from professionals had been on various cooking shows.

“That makes you unique.” He set a small dish filled with chopped parsley next to her at the stove before turning back to prep the next item she’d assigned him. “It’s the same with me. I take bits and pieces of advice from mentors, books I’ve read, things I’ve seen on TV, conferences I’ve attended… It all combines.”

“And that doesn’t even include what we learned in school that served as the foundation for everything,” she said. “I guess it’s that way for everyone.”

She rolled it around in her head, realizing how bizarre this was. She was thinking of her skills in terms of being a chef when she was not a chef. She was a journalist. But she couldn’t think of anything she’d done in childhood or adolescence that indicated she’d someday be a TV reporter. She’d chosen it as a major in college because it sounded fun. While doing the various assignments for class, she realized she had a talent for it.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like being a journalist. Investigating a lead and tracking down the facts to support a story gave her a thrill. She loved stepping back and appreciating the news piece she’d just created, just as she loved looking at the meals she’d made. Each provided a similar rush.

Only this thrill had her on a yacht, sailing to an exotic location she’d always wanted to visit, with a man who made her feel alive for the first time in years. This skill was appreciated. She doubted she’d be tossed aside for a perkier, prettier chef who happened to fit some vision the no doubt misogynist boat owner had for his kitchen.

Maybe she had some issues she needed to deal with pretty soon.

She smiled to herself at the thought as she flipped the salmon over and seasoned it. Although she was trying to appear like she knew what she was doing here, the truth was, she’d memorized a recipe she’d found online. She was just glad she had the green beans and potatoes in the oven before he’d arrived because she’d checked the recipe on her smartphone four times before she got them in there.

“I kind of envy you.” Derek slid into place beside her again, staring at the salmon. She just hoped she was cooking it correctly. She wasn’t one hundred percent confident about that.

“Envy me?” Renee asked without looking up.

“You have a passion for what you’re doing. It’s easy to see. Plus, you’re providing an important service.”

Huh? “What important service?” She looked over at him and their gazes held. It made her heart skip a beat.

“Everyone needs to eat, and delicious food makes life better,” he said. “I sometimes wish I would have become an attorney or a doctor-someone who can really help people.”

Renee frowned, carefully thinking through her words before proceeding. The last thing she wanted to do was slip and mention something about him owning a hugely successful business. The fact that he would envy her-a person who had been fired for not being perky enough -seemed absurd to her when his house was probably bigger than some castles in Europe.

“You help people.” Renee waved her hand to indicate the boat around them. “Whoever buys this yacht is going to have some pretty darn good times, don’t you think?”

He nodded. “I guess so.”

“You’re bringing happiness to people’s lives, then.” Renee shrugged. Not to mention, making really good money doing it. She couldn’t add that part, though. “Now, take these to the table and tell Captain Jake we’re ready to eat.”

“What about April?”

Renee looked at him, eyebrows arched. They both knew where they found Captain Jake, they’d probably find April these days. Although it hadn’t been stated, it was pretty clear there was a romance brewing there.

“April’s here!”

The voice appeared from out of nowhere, followed by April showing up in the kitchen, looking her glamorous best. She was dressed for a fancy dinner party, or so it appeared, with her hair in beach waves and her makeup two shades heavier than it typically was.

“I couldn’t leave you stranded.” She rushed over and grabbed the two plates Derek hadn’t gotten his hands on yet. “Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.

Getting ready took longer than I expected.”

“We can see.” Derek gave her a teasing smile. “You’re all fancy.”

“It’s dinner on a ship. Aren’t they usually formal?” April looked at Renee. Like she’d know.

“Sounds right to me.” Renee shrugged. “Someone, please let Captain Jake know dinner’s served.”

The two of them headed to the table with the plates, leaving Renee alone with her thoughts again. Tracking down Derek’s father could be a good thing, she told herself. They had some differences to work out. Maybe, once he got over finding out that Renee had been working on an article on him all along, Derek would eventually forgive her.

She could only hope.