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The Razors’ defenseman laughed again. “I’m magnanimous. I’ll hold to my side of the bargain, even if you haven’t accomplished yours by the time the show tapes.”
“Merciful is your middle name, Bellitti,” Jordan remarked drily.
Vince shifted in his seat and muttered, “I’ve got a bad gut about this...”
“We know, Vince. You’re out of this bet,” Jordan said resignedly. “As far as you’re concerned, you’ve seen no evil, heard no evil. Just do me a favor? Show up and do the program. And if you can outcook Bellitti, it’ll be a bonus.”
* * *
Sera couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this. But here she was, in Camilla’s office, eyeing Jordan and waiting to tape a cooking show. They’d already gone through the necessary paperwork with producers, and they’d met with Jordan’s mother. Camilla Serenghetti was her usual bundle of energy.
Tipped off by Jordan, Sera had dressed in what she considered appropriate: a solid blue sweater and slacks—soon to be covered by an apron, anyway. Jordan had mentioned, and she’d known herself, that busy patterns didn’t work on camera. She’d donned some delicate jewelry and had done her own hair and makeup—though she figured the show’s staff would do some touch-up before she went on air.
They were in a lull while Camilla spoke with her producers on set and they waited for other guests and the audience to arrive and taping to begin. After she’d reluctantly committed to doing the show—thinking of Dante, Camilla and the favor she owed Jordan after her car accident—Jordan had informed her that the taping would be a cooking competition with him and a couple of Razors teammates as contestants and her as the judge. It had been too late to back out, but she couldn’t help feeling a little bit like the star of The Bachelorette, being asked to choose among several single men.
Still, she felt poised, professional...and sexy under Jordan’s regard. She had to put that night behind her—even though every time she was near him now, she had to fight the urge to touch him, slip back into his arms, and... No, no, no. Still, his magnetism was so strong, she could feel the pull as if it were a tangible force.
Ignoring the frisson of awareness that coursed through her at the thought, she focused on a framed photo of Jordan and his brothers when they were younger that rested on a nearby windowsill. Picking it up, she asked, “Is this you around age ten?”
Jordan tossed her a surprisingly sheepish smile. “No, that was me at twelve. I’ve hidden that photo every time I’ve been to Mom’s office, but she keeps setting it back out.” After a pause, he added, “I was a late bloomer.”
Sensing a chance to rib him, Sera felt her lips twitch in a smile. “In other words, for the longest time, you were an underdeveloped, small and scrawny kid?”
“Going for the jugular with three adjectives, Perini? How about we leave it at small?”
“Wow, so you came late to your lady-killer ways...”
He bared his teeth. “How are they working?”
She resisted reminding him that he’d agreed to be on his best behavior today—her sanity depended on it. And she was still processing this new bit of information about Jordan. She’d assumed...well, she didn’t know what she’d thought, but she’d always figured he’d sprung from the womb as a natural-born charmer. Apparently, she’d been—and, wow, it hurt to admit this—wrong.
“Braces on your teeth?” she asked, setting the photo back down.
“Check.”
“Glasses?”
“Sometimes, until laser-vision surgery.”
“Acne?”
He nodded. “I’ll cop to the occasional teenage blemish.”
“Nose job?”
“Now we’re going too far.”
She smirked. Rumor was, back in the day, all the Welsdale girls got boob jobs and cars for their birthdays—because they could.
“I leave the cosmetic surgery to the models and Hollywood starlets,” he added, as if reading her mind.
At the reminder of the types of women he’d dated, she folded her arms. Because now they were back on comfortable ground. He’d started late, but he’d made up ground in the playboy arena with a vengeance. “Making up for lost time these days?”
“Let’s not get all pop psychology on me.”
No way was she backing off. She was enjoying this. Nodding at the picture, she asked, “How many of your dates have seen this?”
“None, fortunately. Not one has been in Mom’s office. But WE Magazine ran a Before They Were Famous feature not long ago, and they dug up an old Welsdale newspaper article of me posing with my team in a youth-league photo.”
