Worth the Risk

preparing food.” The teacher turned to Mrs. Zamora and introduced her as well.
    “Everyone calls her Lexi,” Amber said.
    An early warning signal from Lexi’s brain said to get away from this man before Amber was even more intrigued. Lexi had to admit that even she was conscious of his virile appeal. A young girl would find him irresistible.
    “I’m going to win the contest,” her sister assured Brad before Lexi could drag her away.
    Brad smiled encouragingly. “If you win, you’ll be up against students from all the other middle schools in the final round.”
    “Not a problem,” Amber assured him with her usual confidence.
    “Lexi owns City Seeds,” Mrs. Geffen said.
    Lexi stifled a groan. “Mr. Westcott has probably never heard of us.”
    “Please, call me Brad,” he responded as he gazed at her with intriguing blue eyes. “I’ve seen City Seeds’ produce. You specialize in baby vegetables, right?”
    “And upscale greens,” Amber answered for her. “I help grow them.”
    “Really?” Brad’s assessing glance stayed on Lexi. “My sous-chef is in charge of purchasing our produce.”
    “Do you use baby vegetables?” Lexi asked. They were two or three times more costly than regular ones.
    “We haven’t, but you never know. Our menu is always changing.”
    “Thanks for the demo,” Mrs. Geffen said. “My students really enjoyed it.”
    Lexi nodded her agreement, then nudged Amber. “Time to go.” She turned to Mrs. Geffen. “I’ll be back next week.”
    “Thanks for your help,” the teacher said as Lexi walked away, Amber in tow.
    “That was, like, so mean,” Amber said once they were out in the hall. “I wanted to talk to Brad. Get some hints about how to win the contest.”
    “I have a paper due,” Lexi told her. “And before I even begin, I have to water and weed.”
    “Whatever,” Amber replied with an exasperated sigh.

    Brad Westcott watched the attractive brunette walk away. He’d noticed her the minute she’d walked into the room. She looked just like her sister. Who would have thought Lexi Morrison owned City Seeds? Brad wasn’t sure who he had expected to own the premier local produce company, but someone so young or so pretty.
    “Did Lexi start City Seeds herself?” he asked Mrs. Geffen.
    “Her aunt had a backyard garden. The girls came to live with her after their parents were killed in an automobile accident.”
    How terrible, Brad thought with a pang of sympathy. His own youth had been difficult, but both his parents had loved him, and he’d always had them for support.
    “Lexi’s aunt sold produce at the local farmer’s market, and Lexi noticed baby vegetables brought a higher price,” put in Mrs. Zamora.
    Enterprising, Brad thought.
    “She did all that while getting straight A’s and a scholarship to the University of Houston.” The teacher smiled proudly as if Lexi were her own child. “She’s about to get her master’s degree in business administration. Then she’ll take the CPA exam.”
    “Impressive,” Brad said and he meant it. Not many people could juggle so much at once. No wonder she’d been in a hurry to leave.
    He left the school and drove to Black Jack’s. Although he had three restaurants in the Houston area, he concentrated on this one. It was the largest and most profitable.
    Lexi Morrison drifted out of his thoughts as he strode through the back door. As usual, the kitchen was controlled chaos. Slabs of beef ribs were smoking and huge pots of barbecued beans simmered on the industrial-size stoves.
    “Hey, Brad,” called Charmayne Collins, the pastry chef. “How was the demo?” She was piping whipped cream around a tiramisu mousse.
    “Great,” he replied. “The kids seemed to enjoy it.” An image of Lexi Morrison flashed across his mind. “Where’s Allen?”
    Charmayne kept her eyes on the ceramic dish in front of her. “He’s not here.”
    Brad stopped and spun around, nearly bumping into a waiter carrying a tray. “What? Where is he? Did something happen?”
    It was late in the afternoon. The sous-chef should have started preparations for the evening crowd. If the assistant chef hadn’t stepped up, Brad would have to hustle or every dinner would be late tonight.
    “I don’t know what happened to Allen,” Charmayne told him. “He spoke with Trevor.”
    There was an undertone in her voice that he didn’t like. Something was wrong. He charged across the busy kitchen and into the bar area, where Trevor,