She's just his boss, especially since Tara just barely hired Alec. But when things heat up in the kitchen, Tara will have to decide where Alec is needed more—on her arm or behind the stove.
Tara: Alec Ward makes sure everyone knows I'm the boss. He thinks it's some sort of homage to me or something. I find it as sarcastic and annoying as he is drop-dead gorgeous.
I'd have fired him on his first day for his Grumpy-Cat attitude, but he's the best thing to happen to Saucebilities since I opened the doors a decade ago. He acts like dating is beneath him, and I'm happy to feed that opinion for him by telling him all about my dating disasters while we whip up delicacies for the rich and famous around Charleston.
I know just how to handle men like Alec.
Until an article comes out that could devastate me. The headline?
No one trusts a skinny chef, but can the plump cooks in this town find love?
I'm the headliner in the article, thanks to an ex who's looking for revenge.
"Plump?" I rage to Alec, a knife in my hand. "I'll show him plump."
I expect him to laugh, pluck the knife away before I hurt myself, and tell me to get over it. Instead, he says, "You should show him that women of all sizes can find love."
So he's deeper than I thought. Big deal. Doesn't mean I'm going to fall for his knife skills or the muscles it takes to lift all those pounds of potatoes. I do take his advice and leave a comment on my ex's article.
When my ex walks into my kitchen, uninvited I might add, and demands to know who I'm dating, Alec steps right to my side with, "Is this the guy, baby?"
Oh, he's the guy, and I suddenly want to show him—and myself—that I'm a good catch, curves and all...
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She's just his boss, especially since Tara just barely hired Alec. But when things heat up in the kitchen, Tara will have to decide where Alec is needed more—on her arm or behind the stove.
Tara: Alec Ward makes sure everyone knows I'm the boss. He thinks it's some sort of homage to me or something. I find it as sarcastic and annoying as he is drop-dead gorgeous.
I'd have fired him on his first day for his Grumpy-Cat attitude, but he's the best thing to happen to Saucebilities since I opened the doors a decade ago. He acts like dating is beneath him, and I'm happy to feed that opinion for him by telling him all about my dating disasters while we whip up delicacies for the rich and famous around Charleston.
I know just how to handle men like Alec.
Until an article comes out that could devastate me. The headline?
No one trusts a skinny chef, but can the plump cooks in this town find love?
I'm the headliner in the article, thanks to an ex who's looking for revenge.
"Plump?" I rage to Alec, a knife in my hand. "I'll show him plump."
I expect him to laugh, pluck the knife away before I hurt myself, and tell me to get over it. Instead, he says, "You should show him that women of all sizes can find love."
So he's deeper than I thought. Big deal. Doesn't mean I'm going to fall for his knife skills or the muscles it takes to lift all those pounds of potatoes. I do take his advice and leave a comment on my ex's article.
When my ex walks into my kitchen, uninvited I might add, and demands to know who I'm dating, Alec steps right to my side with, "Is this the guy, baby?"
Oh, he's the guy, and I suddenly want to show him—and myself—that I'm a good catch, curves and all...
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