Chapter Eleven

Sam Cooke crooned softly from the discreet entertainment centre set in the corner of the dining area, the sultry boom of his voice floating serenely through to the kitchen where Jon was anxiously peering in the through the glass fronted oven door. Small bubbles of rich red sauce were happily erupting in the corners of the square ceramic dish splashing the liquid in a bloody trail down the sides to pool in a flat baking sheet. Smirking he silently congratulated himself on having the foresight to remember the tray this time. Alice his long time housekeeper had nearly walked out on him when she’d had to clean up after his last culinary adventure. Some of her infuriated remarks must have sunk home; he’d remembered her top tip for keeping the oven clean!


Satisfied everything was as it should be in the oven department after he had slipped some crusty bread on the bottom shelf to warm, he turned his attention to the bags of salad lying on the counter top, swaying his hips to the chirpy little chorus resounding merrily through the room.

Cupid, draw back your bowooooh
And let your arrow gooo 
Straight to my lovers heart 
For me 

Softly joining in with his old buddy Sam, Jon contentedly sang his way through the classic hit as he pulled apart various pre-packed cellophane bags of mixed salad and emptied them all into a large wooden serving bowl. Investigations into a brown paper grocery bag produced a vine of sun sweetened tomatoes which he cheerily plucked apart and tossed onto the green bed of leaves already nestled in the bowl.

Now Cupid if your arrow make a love storm for me 
I promise I will love her until eternity
I know between the two of us, her heart we can steal 
Heeelp me if you will 


Soooooo! 

Grabbing a pair of wooden tongs to toss the rustic salad together he couldn’t resist raising one of them to his lips as an impromptu microphone. Spinning on his heels, he swayed across the smooth tiles to yank open the refrigerator, his voice perfectly matching the old time crooners as he dramatically pulled out a bottle of vinaigrette and bumped the door shut with his ass.

Cupid!


Pleeeeeeease hear my cry
And let your arrow fly 
Straight to my lover’s heart 
For meeee 


Noooow Cupid!
Don't you hear me?
Calling you
I need ya
Cupiiiiiiiid......Help me
I need ya...........


As the words faded, Jon tucked the bottle under his arm and gripping the tongs in his teeth picked up the bowl to carry it out onto the patio where he’d carefully set up a small dining table. Glancing up at the open French doors, he noisily let the tongs slips from his teeth only barely catching them with the bowl when he saw Rachel standing daintily on the step amusedly twirling a single rose between her fingers.

“Hey!” he exclaimed in surprise, “You’re early!”

Rachel dipped her head in an effort that did little to disguise the shudders of laughter that were shaking her shoulders. Biting her lips she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Apparently I’m not the only one who likes to sing at home! Although I will admit your dance moves are infinitely worse than my singing talents!” Ignoring Jon’s pathetic attempt at a wounded look, she continued teasing him in between giggles. “Good thing your singing career worked out huh? The Chippendales can breathe easy!”

Jon pouted as he tried valiantly to make a comeback and failed miserably – guess that was karma for sneaking up on her yesterday. Padding past her to place the salad and vinaigrette out on the table he turned to eye up the velvety rose she was slowly waving under her nose.

“Hmph, you got my flowers then I see!”

A demure smile crept across her lips as she gently brushed the petals of the flower softly against her cheek, her eyes dancing with evil merriment.

“Oh, they were from you?” Her brows arched upwards innocently. “I had no idea…….”

Jon stepped forward to gently lay a hand either side of her hips, his lips twitching in a futile attempt to hide the beginnings of a sneaky grin. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear just as Sam started into a soft rendition of ‘You Send Me’ in the background.






“Oh really? Is it every day you get a gate code sent with flowers to your door little girl?”

Rachel pretended to consider his question for a moment, breathing in his musky scent as he hovered dangerously close to her neck.

“Well maybe not with a gate code……….”

Chuckling Jon placed a soft kiss on her cheek, giving her hips a gentle squeeze.

“Wanna dance with me and my buddy Sam here?”

Rachel smiled delightedly at him before her nose crinkled in puzzlement. “I’d love to but……..is there something burning?”

Lifting his head to sniff the air suspiciously, Jon’s charming smile turned into one of shock as he swore and made a dive into the kitchen.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Skidding to a halt in front of the oven, he yanked open the oven door only to splutter and cough at the thick black smoke that came billowing out.

“Noooooo!”

Howling in annoyance, he jabbed a hand in to send the loaf of cremated bread skittering to the floor in a shower of black crumbs. He stared at it in disgust as he mournfully sucked the tips of his fingers to rid them of the slight burn from the incinerated bread. Rachel stepped through from the patio, blinking away the stinging tears from the acrid smoke that was rapidly filling the kitchen. Picking up a nearby towel, she flapped it through the air giggling in between splutters.

“Oh dear! Guess bread is no longer on the menu then huh?”

Stopping by his side she continued to bat the air with the towel, placing her other hand sympathetically on Jon’s shoulder.

“Never mind, it’s bad for you anyway!”

Laughing, Jon shook his head ruefully and kicked the still smoking bread in the direction of the trash can. Turning to peer back into the now slightly clearer oven he grinned triumphantly.

 “It’s not all bad! Voilá!”

After taking the towel from Rachel, he slid the perfectly cooked lasagne out from the shelf on its sauce darkened tray. Carefully he slid it onto the counter top, sniffing the golden cheesy crust appreciatively.

Rachel viewed the dish with curiosity, smiling with approval. So the man could cook after all.

“You know what? Aside from nearly burning the house down this is pretty impressive for a man who claims to eat nothing but pizza!”

Narrowing her eyes she looked at him suspiciously as she referred back to the gigantic stack of empty pizza boxes she’d seen on the grand tour which funnily enough were nowhere to be seen now. Swiftly Jon dismissed her observations with a quick grin and motioned to the enormous stainless steel fridge behind her.

 “There’s a nice bottle of Pinot in there or water if you prefer? I gotta serve this baby up!”

Shaking her head at his intense concentration, Rachel collected the wine and some glasses from the counter and headed back out to the patio table that Jon had already prepared for dinner. A small citronella candle flickered softly in a glass lantern providing an attractive centrepiece amidst the cream linen place mats and polished cutlery. He really had gone all out she nervously noted as she poured them both a generous glass of the wine and sat down in the last of the evening sunshine to await her dinner with a contented sigh, the soft lyrics of the bluesy music adding to the idyllic atmosphere.

A few minutes later, with Jon sitting across the small table watching her hopefully, Rachel slowly chewed thoughtfully on her first forkful. The rich tomato sauce combined with gentle hints of thyme and garlic exploded in a burst of flavour on her tongue, this wasn’t a sauce that came in a jar that was for sure.

“Jon, this is delicious!”

Swallowing the mouthful, Rachel took a small sip from her glass letting the wine cleanse her palate.

“Can you give me the recipe?”

“Um, sure I guess…..” Jon shrugged as he busied himself with forking some salad onto his plate. “It’s nothing special.”

“Are you kidding me? Jon – It’s divine!!” Exclaiming Rachel cut herself another forkful.

“What did you put in the sauce?”

Busy eating Jon avoided looking her in the eye as he mumbled. “Oh you know, just the usual.”

What was it with women needing to know every little detail? If a woman cooked for him, the last thing on his mind would be what was in the damn sauce. Truth was he hadn’t the first clue what the ingredients were, that was very much Alice’s department and she’d probably call for a doctor if he ever showed even the slightest interest in how she made some of the delicious dishes she spoiled him with. She'd been more than suspicious when he'd asked her that morning to leave something in the fridge that he could finish off in the oven but as usual she'd outdone herself. Her lasagne was truly spectacular.

“More wine?” Lifting the wine bottle with a flourish he swiftly changed the subject.

“So how was your day? Did your furniture arrive?”

He knew full well her furniture had arrived having spent most of the day over in the studio keeping a watchful eye on the queue of big trucks that had rolled up her driveway. But he wasn’t about to let her in on that particular secret.

“Yeah, it’s all there now thankfully.” Wiping her mouth on a napkin, Rachel smiled tiredly at him. “It doesn’t feel like I’m living in a cave now at least.”

Over the course of dinner they chatted companionably while Sam sang softly in the background, the soothing lilt of his creamy voice carrying across the patio and floating away on the still night air. Rachel filled Jon in on her day of organising the craziness of the staging company and more on what her actual job entailed. He found himself strangely fascinated as she enthusiastically covered most aspects of modern real estate, reeling off facts and figures of the market as easily as she breathed.

With every sip of wine she became more animated, laughter tinkling from her as she reminisced on some of the more interesting characters she’d dealt with over the years. Reclining back in his chair, Jon nodded with interest; he had to hand it to her. This girl really knew her business inside and out.

“So say I was to put this place on the market? What’s it worth – realistically?”

He motioned with his eyes to the shadows of his house that towered behind them as he refilled both their glasses.

Rachel blew out a low whistle. “Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Putting it on the market?”

Half twisting in her chair to gaze up at the impressive building Rachel did some quick mental calculations, her memory flashing back to the tour he’d given her.

“Maybe….” Jon answered her cryptically, a sneaky grin on his face as he watched her eyes dart over the outside of the house. “Depends on the figure you come up with……”

Rachel gave a small snort as she turned back in her chair to face him, incredulity filling her eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re in need of a few bucks?!”

Grinning Jon leisurely stretched his arms out wide before returning his hands to gently rub his full stomach.

“Times are tough baby!”

“Well if times are tough for YOU then the rest of us are completely screwed!”

She laughed openly across the table at him before tuning her business head back in.

“Well bouncing your house as a price comparison against the one I’m currently in, you’re somewhere in the region of twenty million, or thereabouts……BUT………..”

She held up a finger indicating she wasn’t done, “…..with you being the celebrity you are that’s gonna bump the price tag up considerably.”

Jon’s grin widened and he chuckled. “Alright then, hit me – what’s my celebrity worth?”

Rachel pursed her lips in thought, “Roughly, taking everything into consideration with the current market, probably another couple of million on top of that.”

“Not bad I suppose.” Jon stuck out his lower lip. “Then again, it might not be worth it after what I’d have to pay someone to sell it!”

She laughed back at him, the combination of the wine and easy conversation filling her body with warmth and relaxation. Licking her lips, she arched a golden eyebrow at him.

“Oh I dunno about that, I’m sure you could find someone who’d cut you a good deal.”

Smirking Jon leaned forward in his chair, letting his foot gently bump her leg under the table.

“Got any recommendations for me?”

His touch sent shivers of delight up her bare leg, goose bumps rising on her smooth skin as she giggled straight into his twinkling eyes.

“I know a girl………”

Rachel could barely recognise her own voice that simpered back seductively at him, her foot instinctively rising to meet his denim covered leg, her toes curling around his taut calf muscle.

“I hear she’s real good………..”

The soft drawl of her voice made Jon’s gut clench and the little dance her toes were seductively tapping out on his leg were sending clear signals to his groin making him shudder with anticipation. Reaching for his glass he threw back the last of his wine, draining it in a single swallow before he stretched a hand over to her.

 “What do you say we dance out a deal of sorts?”