Sweet Talk Ch. 01

But all of those plans had been horribly derailed when her dad and brother Nate died in a car crash in Florida at the beginning of her junior year in college. Over two years had passed since the accident, but the same sadness tightened Anna's throat. Missing them had become part of her being the same way Jason's friendship had taken on a whole new dimension after the crash.

Her dad had been a surrogate father for him. And since she and Jason had both grown up without mothers, losing her dad and brother left them both feeling like orphans. Besides her cousin Keera, he was the only family she had left.

Jason's easy laughter and soothing voice, amplified in the cavernous studio, pulled Anna back from her melancholy memories. Blinking, she focused on the last portion of the taping.

"Now," Jason said, aiming a perfect smile at the cameras, "this is where a lot of you at home might run into trouble, but I'm going to show you a little trick." He was making his famous Chocolate Kiss muffins, the ones that constantly sold-out at Sugar, the dessert shop he co-owned with Sam Wyatt, a fellow Culinary Institute graduate.

Even though she'd seen Jason make these same muffins dozens of times, Anna couldn't take her eyes away from him. He rarely did anything on a basic level, and those muffins were a perfect example of that. Rather than a simple batch of chocolate baked goods, he upped the ante by combining them with a hand-made chocolate mousse filling and a warm vanilla sauce. He'd already baked the muffins and removed them from the oven, filling the studio with the homey aromas of chocolate and vanilla bean.

While effortlessly whisking a mixture of gourmet chocolate, ground espresso, butter and dark rum in a double boiler, he spoke into the cameras. "We're just about done with the chocolate here, so let me show you my secret weapon for creating the perfect, knee-buckling mousse."

Removing the chocolate from the heat, he grabbed a carton of heavy cream and a small, cardboard box. "This, my friends," he said, holding up the box, "is plain gelatin. Now, I know, you're wondering, 'Jason, what're you going to do with that?' And I'll tell you if you give me a second.'"

He chuckled to himself and ripped the box open. "Adding just a bit of gelatin to your mousse keeps it from getting so moist that it turns into a wet pudding. It'd be a nice pudding," he pointed out, sprinkling some gelatin into a small portion of the cream, which he'd set aside, "but it'd still be pudding."

The cream then went over the gas range for a few moments. "We're not boiling the cream, guys, we're just heating things up a little, incorporating the gelatin." The mixing cup received a few expert swirls from his wrist.

"Okay, now set that aside for a second because we're about to take out some aggression on the rest of this cream." A handheld mixer went into the cream for several minutes, all the while, Jason chatted with the camera like an old friend.

"...and the first time I made this recipe, I had to have been about fourteen," he shook his head. "I was working through summer in a bakery owned by the father of a good friend," Anna smiled at that, "and I ended up with a football-sized wad of chocolate mush. Let's just say that was the last time I got to make a mousse for the next few years."

Pausing, he checked the stiffness of the cream and declared it, "Ready to rumble."

He folded the fluffy, white-peaked cream into the melted chocolate bit by bit, until only a few streaks of white remained. "In this case, streaking is absolutely acceptable," Jason joked, then, grinning, cocked an eyebrow at the camera. "I'll give you a second to think about that one. You'll get it."

From below the counter, he pulled out a chilled batch of mousse he'd brought from home, peeling back the layer of plastic wrap.

"Now, for the fun part." Spilling six of the jumbo-size muffins onto a platter, he held up a finger to the camera. "Give me two seconds to make the vanilla sauce and I'll show you how to create a bit of heaven in your kitchen." Heavy cream, sugar and real vanilla, flavored with a dash of espresso, quickly melted in a copper-bottom saucepan. "All right, magic time," Jason announced.

The showboating ended, his entire attention focused on the final creation. "Let's just...make a little room for our mousse here," he pressed into the top of three muffins with a small ice cream scoop.

A thin, wispy puff of chocolate-scented steam escaped. With the precision of a surgeon, Jason dropped a heaping scoop of chilled mousse into the warm, moist muffin centers. And when he topped the already decadent confection with the hot vanilla sauce, audible sighs issued up from around the studio.

Anna grinned. Jason's desserts tended to have that effect on people.

Laughing, Jason turned his attention back to the cameras. "You have no idea how many groans of pleasure I just heard here in the studio." A playful smile spread across his handsome face. "Lucky for them, I'm willing to share. Butyou'llhave to make these on your own to find out how fabulous they are." A muffin and mousse laden fork found its way to his mouth and he rolled his eyes as he chewed. "Believe me, they're awesome. Thanks for watching, guys, and for letting me sweeten your day."

"Cut," the producer, Stan, called out. "Jason, you were great," he proclaimed. "Let's take a five minute break and we'll come back and do a few promos and sound-bites."

The studio lights went on, making Anna blink at the sudden brightness. She'd taken maybe one step toward Jason before she saw the absolute stampede of women headed his way. Two she recognized as hair and make-up, but the others, she was certain, were simply there to meet Jason Blake, celebrity chef.

She'd need a stun gun to get anywhere near him in the next few minutes. She rolled her eyes and turned toward the studio door. Maybe she'd be able to find a nearby bathroom without getting lost in the studio's maze-like hallways.

"Anna!" Jason's voice stopped her. She turned, but didn't make a move toward him. Those women looked downright frenzied. Keeping a safe distance, she raised her eyebrows, silently asking what he wanted. "Water," he half-shouted. "They've only got mineral water." Which, she knew, he hated. "I think I saw a vending machine downstairs..." he trailed off, giving her puppy-dog eyes.

An exasperated sigh escaped her, but she waved her hand at him. "I'll get it, don't worry." She might as well have been talking to herself, though, because he'd already turned his attention back to his little fan club.

Typical Jason, Anna thought, as she walked into the hallway. She got stuck running errands while he basked in the limelight with no idea how much time and effort she put into making his career smooth sailing. Yeah, that was part of her job description, but he didn't really make it easy on her, either.

She grimaced. Just today, when they'd shown up late, Jason had been whisked away to hair and make-up while she'd been stuck practically being chewed out by Stan, the producer.

The same producer who'd just gushed about how great a job Jason had done, an hour earlier had been ranting about how they were on a time-crunch and didn't have the luxury of waiting around for people. Five minutes later, Jason swept in, wiped away any lingering irritation and set about creating his insanely rich, but utterly addictive, muffins.

As she visualized them, she realized that she really, really wanted one. A chocolate fix was the best way to boost one of her darker moods and the longer she thought about her role as Jason's personal assistant, the more depressed she became.

It had all started out as a temporary position; she'd come to work for him a few months after the car accident. Part-way through her junior year, she'd just fallen apart and, when she told Jason she wanted to quit school, he'd insisted that she only take a leave of absence and work for him for a month or two, six tops.

But that had been right around the time he'd moved back from Boston and opened Sugar with Sam. Almost overnight, the place became a huge success and so did Jason. By then, things were much too busy for Anna to go back to school, so she decided to stick around over the summer. Then that turned into 'just until spring semester starts.' And, before she knew it, here she was, two years later: twenty-four, no college degree and working for her increasingly infuriating best friend.

Not to mention the fact that she was undeniably in love with him. Yep, that just made things so much more fun, she bitterly thought, walking into the ladies' room.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror under the bathroom's harsh, fluorescent lights, she couldn't help but take in the faint circles beneath her eyes. The exhaustion in her body showed there, but it wasn't only physical. Her emotional and mental self were tired, too.

Part of the reason she'd stuck by Jason for so long, she admitted to herself, wasn't because he needed her, but because she loved him and wanted to be near him. That love had been there since she was a little girl, but when her dad and Nate died, it made her realize that losing Jason would be her breaking point.

So she'd clung to him.

But now...she'd begun to realize that no matter what she did, or how much she gave, Jason would never see her as anything other than Nate's little sister. Anna knew he loved her and cared about her, but he'd never beinlove with her.

It was time for her to move on, she knew. Start her life up again. No longer revolve around Jason Blake. As she left the bathroom and walked toward the stairs, she realized that was probably easier said than done. With a sigh, she headed for the downstairs vending machine Jason had mentioned.

After getting lost—twice—she finally found the front desk.

"Excuse me," she asked. "Is there a vending machine around here? One with water?"

The receptionist, a youngish-looking redhead with green eyes and porcelain skin shook her head. "Not in the building. There's a grocery store right across the street, though." She smiled and Anna absently mused that she was exactly Jason's type. Cute. Bubbly. And busty.

"Thanks," Anna muttered. Glancing at her watch, she saw she still had a couple of minutes before they went back to filming. Even if she didn't make it back on time, Jason would still want the water after they wrapped up for the day. She headed for the store.

Several minutes later, Anna returned, hurrying past the now-empty front desk. The trip to the grocery store had taken longer than she'd expected. They'd be filming by the time she got back up there, but that was fine. Going up the stairs to the studio, she was just congratulating herself on finding her way back without getting lost when she heard a loud, angry voice coming from the direction of the studio.

"Please tell me Jason didn't set something on fire," she said aloud.

But when she walked through the studio door, it was quickly apparent that Jason wasn't even there. Stan, the burly producer, was ranting at one of the make-up girls who looked to be on the verge of tears.

Anna steeled herself and asked, "Is there a prob—"

Before she even got the sentence fully out of her mouth, the producer turned on her. "I don't know what kind of ship they run over at the KIRA studios, but we stick to deadlines here."

Anna blinked in confusion. Hadn't they already gotten past the fact that Jason showed up late? Speaking of which, where was he? "Uh...where's Jason?" she asked, not knowing what else to say.

The producer shoved his headset off his head. "That's exactly what I'd like to know. We've been waiting on him for ten minutes."

Great. Just perfect. They'd managed to smooth things over with the producer, then Jason went and disappeared. "I'm sorry about this, Stan," Anna apologized. "I'm just going to go check the bathroom. I'm sure he's—"

"I already sent someone and he's not in there," Stan crossed his arms over his chest. "This a habit of his? Keeping people waiting?"

Yes, yes it is, she thought.

"No, he..." Anna fumbled for a response. "There must be some kind of emergency or something. Give me a minute. I'll find him." And then she'd kill him like she should have done that morning.

Stalking the halls of the studio, she had a stranglehold on the bottle of water in her hand by the time she made it all the way downstairs. She'd looked in every possible place he might have been between the second and first floors, but couldn't find him. Heading for the reception desk, she was hoping to ask the redhead if she'd seen Jason.

Only the desk was still empty.

Anna stood in indecision for a moment and had just turned to head back upstairs when she heard a quiet giggle from an alcove a little ways past the reception desk. Answering male laughter, laughter that sounded suspiciously like Jason's, caused Anna's hands to clench.

Full of simmering anger, she headed toward the alcove and rounded the corner. Three vending machines backed up against three walls, framed Jason's form leaning over the redhead who was, to Anna's disgust, literally batting her fake eyelashes at him.

Her entire body went rigid with anger. But she kept her tone even when she said, "Jason. They're waiting for you. In the studio."

Surprised by her voice, he stood up. "Oh...hey, Anna."

Anna repeated herself, too angry to form any other sentence. "They're waiting for you."

Jason stepped out of the alcove, followed by the dreamy-eyed receptionist. "Whoops. I kind of lost track of the time," he said. At least he had the decency to look chagrined. But even that didn't last. "I was looking for you, Anna. And, Stacey here," he grinned at the receptionist, "was nice enough to show me where the vending machines are."

"I just bought you a bottled water," Anna pointed out.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I changed my mind, so I bought a soda."

A very pleasant vision of the bottled water bashing against the side of his face flitted through Anna's mind. Her nails sunk into the hard plastic, but she kept calm. Mostly. "Look, can you just get back up there? The producer just yelled at me and—"

"Just a sec, sugar," he said, already turning toward Stacey-the-receptionist, who'd slipped back behind her desk. "Why don't you come up and watch the rest of the filming?" His voice was a smooth and rich as the chocolate he'd whipped into a mousse earlier.

Anna's anger doubled.

The redhead smiled seductively. "Well, I guess I could take my lunch break a little early." When she stepped out from behind the desk, Jason ushered her in front of him, leaving Anna to take up the rear.

As they passed a trashcan on the way upstairs, she unceremoniously dumped the bottle of water into the trashcan. She considered shoving Jason in right after, but his little redhead probably would've pulled him right back out.

Upstairs, Jason made breezy apologies, while the receptionist watched the last thirty minutes of the taping from the sidelines. Right where Anna had been standing earlier. This time around, she wasn't nearly as charmed by Jason's performance. And a quick glance at Stan, the producer, told her that he, too, had had his fill of Jason Blake's antics.

Anna seethed in silence. That scene downstairs, Jason chatting up a receptionist when there was work to be done, had become his trademark these days. It wasn't always a receptionist, though. No, sometimes he'd forget about a meeting or he wouldn't return phone calls. He'd become careless with everything. Everything except his baking and his role at Sugar. It seemed like his dessert shop was the only thing he really cared about anymore.

Even more than Anna.

She knew it was incredibly childish and irrational to be jealous of a dessert shop, but she couldn't help it. While Jason had been treating her like an accessory or an afterthought, he'd lavished so much of his attention, passion and, yes, love on Sugar. And it showed. The place was always packed and always received rave reviews.

But Anna felt like she was simply a means to an end for him, someone there to tie up all the loose ends and make everything bump-free. At first, she'd loved that he relied on her, but now she felt like he was simply taking her for granted. Plus the fact that she'd grown tired of having to constantly check in on him. But their friendship, and her stubborn heart, wouldn't let her desert him. Even when she knew that's what she should do, for her own good.

The taping ended and, again, the bright studio lights flicked on, startling Anna. Ready to leave, she paced toward the door, heartily regretting the fact that she'd ridden with Jason and left her car parked at his condo. Even as she watched, he chatted with the PBS staffers, before making his way toward the redhead. They openly flirted as Jason guided her toward where Anna was standing by the door to the hallway.

"That sounds great," she heard the receptionist say. "I've never been to the Blue Room. I hear the food's amazing, though. I'd love to go."

Anna studiously forced a neutral expression onto her face when the two stopped only a few feet from her, despite the anger knotted in the pit of her belly. Her efforts were wasted, though, since Jason and the receptionist barely acknowledged her presence.

"Great," Jason said, giving the redhead a long, appreciative smile. "I'll have my assistant make reservations." Anna's spine stiffened. Jason didn't notice, too busy watching the receptionist walk away. "God, I love my job," he breathed. Then, hooking an arm around Anna's stiff shoulders, he guided her into the hallway. "Want to grab lunch at Palermo's?"

Anna ducked out from underneath his arm. "Sorry, I have plans."

Jason gave a short laugh. "Sugar, making phone calls and sending emails doesn't really count as plans."

His amused tone irritated her. "Maybe I have a date," she said, with probably more satisfaction in her tone than she'd intended.

"Since when are you dating anyone?" The incredulous expression on his face made Anna want to stomp on his arrogant toes.

Was it such a hugely impossible stretch of the imagination to think that someone might want to date her? Okay, sure, she didn't really have a date and shewasplanning on making some phone calls and sending a few emails, but that wasn't the point.

The point was that Jason Blake was, quite possibly, one of the most selfish, obtuse men she'd ever met in her life.

And you love him,her mind reminded her.

Gritting her teeth, she showed her irritation. "Can we just go? I want to get my car and head home," she pushed past him and walked down the hall.

"Whoa, wait a second." He caught up to her and blocked her path. "What's the deal? You mad at me?" His tone told her that he couldn't fathom a single reason why she might be upset with him.

Idiot.

She met his hazel gaze. "I'm tired, Jay." Of cleaning up after you. Of putting you first. Of wanting you...She cleared her throat. "I just...want to go home. Shower." She glanced down at herself. " Change clothes."

His brow scrunched up, taking in her slacks, plain blouse and jacket. "Why? You're wearing what you always wear. You look exactly like you always do."

Yet another deep breath helped calm her taut nerves. "Contrary to popular belief, Jay, I actually have other clothes. Other than the ones I work in." Not that he would know considering she was always working these days.

The confusion in his eyes increased. "Okay..." he said. It was clear that her anger had only succeeded in confusing him.

She started walking again. "Look, can we just go?" All she wanted to do was go home, take a long, hot bath and feel sorry for herself. Whiletryingto hate him.

Unfortunately for her, he wouldn't shut up.

"Anna wait, I have to—"