Thrown Together

"A cooking demo?"

"Yeah," Ethan's voice echoed through the phone. "A cooking demo. Lori insisted on getting tickets to this thing months ago and now I'm stuck with them because the bitch had to run off to fucking France with her fucking assistant turned boy toy."

"So don't go," Tom mumbled into the phone, stretching and scratching his head as he finally started to wake up.

"Are you kidding me, Hardy? This chick is supposed to be, like Paula Dean if she were hot and twenty five. Not to mention there are going to be so many women trying to learn to cook for a husband they don't have yet, it'll be easy pickings."

"Don't you ever think of anything else?"

"What else is there but money and pussy?" Ethan's voice muffled for a moment. "Thanks Phyllis, put it right there."

"And you wonder why you're single."

"So are you in or what?"

Tom thought about it, even considered checking his calendar but he knew it was clear for months. "Sure, mate, I'm in."

-----

"Molly," he breathed as she entered the demo kitchen. How did he keep running into her? She looked pretty amazing in her Zeppelin tee and jeans, her hair piled into a messy bun on her head. Tom turned to see if Ethan had noticed, but he seemed to be more interested in the leggy blonde sitting next to them.

"I'm a talent agent," he could hear his friend whisper as he gave the woman his card. "And you look very talented." Tom rolled his eyes.

"Sir?" Molly called from the front of the room. "Yeah, you, Mr. Suit. Why don't you hit on her on your own time? Because right now you're wasting mine."

He had to bite down a laugh as Ethan turned red and mumbled an apology. Molly's eyes flitted to Tom, narrowing as she recognized him. "Moving on then."

"Nearly every cajun dish you're going to run into starts with the holy trinity: onions, bell peppers, celery. But first we'll render down some bacon, andouille, pork sausage and some good ole' lard." The sizzle of the food in the pot was audible even from the back, the smell wafting through as she stirred. Her words seemed to wash over him, the ingredients sounding exotic as they rolled off her tongue.

"Isn't that, like, super fattening?" the twiggy blonde called out from beside Ethan.

"Then don't effing eat it," Molly sniped back. "I'm not here to make you a salad, I'm here to show you how to cook my food. You're welcome to leave if you think it's too fattening." Tom chuckled into his hand, trying to cover it with a cough. Molly looked at him again, a small smile playing on her lips this time. "Moving on."

He watched in awed silence as she moved, effortlessly putting her jambalaya together while preparing some oysters to grill and a shrimp remoulade. Molly seemed to relax more as she cooked, peppering her instructions with some jokes and allowing questions from her audience. It was almost like a dance, one she was very graceful at. There was something about her, he decided. Something that seed to sparkle, full of life and vitality.

She was going to be trouble, he just knew it.

When the time came to sample the food and leave, he purposefully lingered, shuffling to the back of the line in hopes to speak to her again.

Ethan and the blonde were the last to leave before Tom, her hands obviously devoid of the food that they had just watched Molly prepare.

"Tom, right?" Molly spoke as he made his way to the front. He nodded as she handed him a plate of food. "I'm starting to think you're stalking me."

"Not stalking, no. Fate seems to have its own designs, though."

"Fate, huh?" He took a bite of jambalaya, chewing for a moment before swallowing and opening his mouth in pain. Hot! Molly had a devilish grin on her face as she poured him a glass of milk. "If you can't take the heat ..."

Tom grabbed the cup and chugged the milk down, grateful when his tongue started to cool. "That is fucking hot. Amazing, but hot."

Molly laughed, eyes dancing as she did. "Sorry I did that to your friend and his girl, by the way. I'm not usually a bitch, but I have little patience for people that waste my time."

Tom nodded in understanding, hazarding a taste at the oysters and remoulade. They were thankfully less spicy. "This may be the most delicious food I've ever had."

"Glad you like it. Well, I've got to clean up and get back to the restaurant. Nice seeing you again, I suppose."

"You too." Tom started to make his way out the door before stopping. "What's your restaurant by the way?"

"Rogue. Goodbye, Tom. I have a date with some AC/DC." Molly turned to start her work.

He lingered a moment more, watching as she plugged in a device and music started filtering through the room. He recognized the guitar riff as Thunderstruck. How appropriate, it was exactly how he felt.