Secrets Of The Tulip Sisters. Susan Mallery

Every few weeks he would arrive with interesting ingredients. Together he and Delja would create something amazing for the following day’s special.

      “You’re killing me,” Helen said as she peered into the pots and saw early blueberries simmering in a thick sauce.

      “She’s on another diet,” Delja said, rolling her eyes.

      Ack! Did her friend have to choose this moment to start speaking in more than single words?

      “Sven doesn’t need to know that,” Helen said quickly, hoping she didn’t blush. After all, Sven was the poster boy for physical perfection.

      “You’re beautiful,” Delja told her. “Don’t change.”

      “I agree.” Sven held out a spoon coated in thick, dark purple sauce. “Try this.”

      She hesitated for a second before taking the spoon and putting it to her lips. The explosions of flavors—sweet blueberries, something tart and a hint of butter and brown sugar had her groaning.

      “You’re the devil.”

      “So I’ve been told,” Sven said with a grin. “Tomorrow you’ll have blintzes and crepes on the menu.”

      Helen held in a whimper. How was she supposed to exist on plain salad while surrounded by blintzes?

      “I have a meeting at JML,” she said. “You two will lock up when you’re done?”

      Delja nodded. She motioned for Helen to move close, then hugged her tight.

      “Beautiful girl.”

      “Thanks. You’re always good to me.”

      Delja smiled.

      “Come here, you,” Sven said, surprising her by pulling her into his embrace.

      Helen didn’t have time to wonder if Sven had decided to see her as more than a friend. Before she could gather any thoughts at all, he’d squeezed all the air out of her and then ruffled her hair.

      “You’re fine. Stop trying to change.”

      “Thanks,” she said between clenched teeth. “Great advice.”

      Ruffled her hair? What, was she five? Apparently no one saw her as a sexual being. It was incredibly disappointing. Not that she wanted Sven but still.

      She drove to JML and walked inside. It was too early for lessons, so the building was blissfully silent—except for the occasional smack of a bowling ball hitting pins. But when compared to the indignities the untrained could inflict on an innocent guitar, the sound was almost welcome.

      She found Isaak in his office. She waved as she plopped down in one of the visitor chairs.

      “Let me guess,” she said with a grin. “You have a new group that wants to learn every song from the Foo Fighters.”

      “I wish, but no. I’m hosting a showcase.”

      “You’re always hosting a showcase. I heard the one last night was particularly challenging for those attending.”

      He groaned. “Tell me about it. You were lucky you didn’t have to be there. But this is different. There are a couple of other music schools that do what we do. We’ve been talking about organizing something together. It’s going to be up here at Petal Pushers.”

      “They changed the name. It’s The Dutch Bunch now.”

      “Whatever. I can’t keep up. Anyway, the venue is great and we’re each going to bring our best bands and players. I thought you and Jeff could do a duet.”

      Naked, she thought dreamily. That was the duet she was most interested in. Naked Jeff and naked her. Not onstage, though. In her bedroom. Yup, that would be fantastic. Just their bodies touching and rubbing and—

      “Helen?”

      “What? Oh, sorry. That would be great. We can do our usual.”

      Isaak sighed. “Not everyone likes Billy Joel.”

      “Everyone should. He’s an icon and my personal piano hero.”

      “I thought you could try something different.” He passed over sheet music.

      She picked it up and glanced at the title. As she didn’t know if she should laugh or scream, the sound that escaped had a snortlike quality to it.

      “You’re kidding.”

      “Nope. You’d be great.”

      “It’s not a duet.”

      “It could be.”

      Helen briefly closed her eyes. “‘Wrecking Ball’? I doubt Jeff knows who Miley Cyrus is and I know he’s never heard the song. It’s not his style.”

      “Neither is Billy Joel but Jeff does it for you. I think ‘Wrecking Ball’ has potential.” Isaak winked. “Plus, he’ll love the video.”

      Helen winced. No offense to anyone, but having Jeff watch that particular video was not going to get him in the mood to have sex with her. Miley was too beautiful, too perfect, too everything. Ordinary, plump women wouldn’t stand a chance.

      “I’ll talk to him,” she said.

      “Your lack of enthusiasm is inspiring.”

      “I still think we should stick with what works.”

      “No Billy Joel.”

      She took the music and stood. “I’m going to tell Billy you said that and he’s going to come beat the crap out of you, so there.”

      Isaak laughed. “I’m willing to take the chance.”