with Jared’s receptionist-turned-fiancée.” His voice trailed ribbons of silk down her spine.
“Mel,” she choked out.
He nodded, one side of his mouth lifting in a ghost of a smile. “And like me, you were talked into a blind date.”
Jill cleared her throat. “Ever since they’ve become an item they’ve wanted nothing more than to set me—”
“—up on dates so you can be in love, too.” Sarcasm flecked his voice.
Not good. He wasn’t any more interested in this blind date than she. Of course, his reasons probably didn’t match hers.
“Exactly.” Jill folded her hands in her lap, squeezing her palms tight. Talk about awkward.
“How many setups does this make for you?” Chet leaned back in his chair, the picture of relaxation and confidence, or maybe a bored clock-watcher.
She almost laughed as he glanced at the platinum-colored watch on his wrist. “My first. You?”
“I think you’re either my fourth or fifth in the last few weeks.”
“You must be a tough customer.”
He chuckled, and the sincere rumble relaxed the tension binding her shoulders.
“Let’s just say I have trust issues, but all the others were Jared’s picks. Mel said you were different.”
“Oh.” Jill dusted her palms along her dress. Thanks, Mel, for raising the expectation bar. Too bad she hadn’t been able to make her getaway before he’d shown up.
He leaned in, studying her with an intenseness that sent shots of awareness through her. “Jill Adgate, hmm? There’s something about you. Have we met before?”
“I-I don’t think so.” Yep, she’d done it and lied. Missed the perfect chance to come clean and end this torture.
“There’s something familiar about you.”
Jill shifted in her seat, focusing her attention over his left shoulder to avoid eye contact. “I doubt we travel in the same circles.”
“Mel and Jared mentioned you’re a chef.” He smiled, but his eyes still bore into her as if dissecting her inch by inch.
“With plans to start my own catering business.” Pride echoed in her voice, even though it didn’t transfer to the nervous energy bouncing beneath her skin.
“Did you go through the accelerated culinary program?” The tenor of his voice tingled in her ears, and she pinched the inside of her wrist. “You don’t look old enough to be an accomplished chef, but Mel assured me you’re quite good at your job.”
“I’m twenty-six.”
The crease between his brow disappeared as he leaned in. “Maybe I’ve seen you at the restaurant where you work?”
Panic rippled across her tummy. “I’m between jobs while I work on my catering business.”
“What made you decide to become a chef?” His mouth twitched with a hint of playfulness.
In an instant, she relaxed. “Since I was a girl, I’ve always loved to cook. The way creating a dish involves all your senses. Sound, taste, smell. I like to incorporate variety. Music in the background, the subdued and sometimes pungent aromas of spices, the taste of a good glass of wine—”
“You have a lot more depth than I first realized, Jill Adgate.”
“Women are like that.”
He grinned. “Lesson learned.”
“What about you? Mel mentioned you run the family business?” She took a quick sip from her water goblet to moisten her dry throat.
“When my father retired I took the reins. It was rough going at first, but after several years things are back on track.”
“Your brother said you brought the family business back to life. That must’ve been a lot of long hours and hard work.”
“Running a business is definitely hard work. Are you sure you’re up to it?”
She lifted her chin. “I’m capable of handling a challenge.”
“Good for you.” He rested his elbows on the table, clasping his hands as if settling in for a long chat. “I like how passionate you are when you talk about cooking. Tell me more.”
Jill’s heart stopped and she sat back as he leaned in toward her. His nearness drew all oxygen