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In seconds, she’d popped off her cooking clogs and shi in a breath, she stared at her knee Swollen to the circumference of a summer melon, it throbbed with each one of her heartbeats She slapped the bag of frozen peas on it, then pushed back on the chair to elevate the aching joint

“I’ll take the anti-infla over at her finned rooht on the top envelope in the pile of mail Her name ritten in a beautiful hand and the return address was Malibu, California, the famous seaside enclave just over the Santa Monica Mountains

Curious, she picked it up Leaving the hectic, ever-active restaurant business had beco else besides cooking—well, she wasn’t trained for anything else besides cooking With a wonky knee and a decidedly private personality, she’d hit on the idea of working in a home kitchen where her work space and her contact with others would be limited

So she’d advertised in LA-area neighborhoods where households ht be interested in a private chef

Bel-Air

Beverly Hills

Malibu

Nothing had come of it…until now? Her pulse quickened as she tore open the seal—and then it slid back to a slow thud

This piece of ranted, a beautiful advertisehway in Malibu

Join us each Tuesday for

Knitters’ Night at Malibu & Ewe!

Make a Connection!

Make so beautiful…friends, too

An enclosed brochure showed the exterior of a cottage-styled shop overlooking a golden beach and an endless ocean Other photos captured the displays of yarn and a cozy, co and knitting There was an open spot on a particularly inviting sofa

Shaking her head, Nikki tossed the papers back on the pile of mail What she needed was a job, not a hobby

“And who needs friends, Fish,” sheat the aquariuled her gold and brown hair, “when I have you?”

With a frown, she noticed his tail sinking southward and used her fingers to spoon him out of the water Then she wound the tiny screw on his side and tossed hiratified as he whirred around his little pond just as if he was a real, live pet

He was perfect, wasn’t he? Perfect for her, anyway She didn’t have a good track record keeping things that lived and breathed And a twenty-seven-year-old woman with culinary school loans and without a job couldn’t afford to feed another mouth anyway

“Yes, you are perfect, Fish,” she said aloud

And she wasn’t going to cry, even though her knee was still throbbing like a bitch

It was then she noticed the light blinking on her answering ? Her parents were dead and her social life was practically nil Was this soain, even as she re the envelope from Malibu & Ewe had proven to be

Make a Connection!

She needed a way to make a buck or she wouldn’t be able to afford the water to fill Fish’s bowl, let alone the rent on her condo

Crossing the fingers of her right hand, she reached over with her left to press Play A man’s voice rumbled into the air

“Yo Nancy? Nellie? Whatever Your friend Sandy gave me your number Said to call This is Jay Buchanan”

Nikki crossed the fingers of her other hand “Fish…” she breathed Jay Buchanan Editor for the hip azine NYFM, LA’sschool student Sandy Bivers For two months, Sandy had worked for him while he wrote a journal-style account of the bachelor joys of having a wo his bed The attention had garnered Sandy a gig on one of the food channels

Nikki’s mind flashed on what her fellow chef had told her about the man Like that yarn shop, Jay Buchanan was a resident of Malibu, and though he was credited with the line, “Men are boys and wo anyone had ever said about him was that he was born under a lucky star on a sunny day at a Southern California beach

“I’ve seen hione on to say, “at the sael” Nikki had caught a gli a charity function at an LA club with a starlet on his aruy in black tie who looked as if he could e a car tire with the same aplomb