To the casual observer, Casey Thomas has had a perfect life. Sole heir to a wealthy, powerful business mogul, she seems to have the world at her feet-but life is not easy for a daughter whose father only wanted a son. Not to be deterred, Kenneth Thomas makes the best of bad circumstances and sets out to prove that he can transform anything-even a girl-into profit. He pushes Casey to excel and dangles a carrot in front of her: graduate from business school, and you'll get a cool half-million bucks. Casey plays her father's game and gets that diploma-and the reward. And just like her father, she sets out to make the best of a bad situation. She uses the nest egg to fund her own sweet dreams of being a pastry chef, leaving her father's dreams behind for crepes drenched in chocolate ganache, a bungalow on the beach, and a wind-in-your-face, tricked-out ride. She's convinced she has the hottest ride on the beach-that is, until she meets Nate, her scorching-hot photographer neighbor. After experiencing what he can do with chocolate icing, Casey's convinced she's found the man who can satisfy her sweet tooth. But then she learns he's become her competitor and may be in cahoots with someone who's trying to sabotage her new business venture. Nate's fallen hard for the accident-prone beauty. Somehow or another, he has to convince her that his involvement with the bagel joint isn't what it seems. Someone that rotten has no business looking that good.

Simply Delishable

By Laura Kehoe

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Laura Kehoe
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-4504-1

Chapter One

Casey began her day with stirred emotions better left hidden for at least one more day. She had worked too hard over the past four years to slip up now and let the proverbial cat out of the bag. It wasn't easy keeping a secret of this magnitude, and at times it riddled her with guilt. Nevertheless, it was the only quintessential way to her future endeavors. It consumed her. She spent countless hours putting the pieces together, all the while concealing those plans from almost everyone, especially her parents. Her father would never approve, though she knew her mother would forgive her. Her mother was the lone person Casey truly loved and looked up to. It was for her own good she knew nothing of her daughter's big undertaking. However, Casey vowed when the time was right that she would be the first to know. Casey knew her mother's adoration for her only child ran deep. Her mother was always defending her shortcomings to her demanding father. "My poor, dear, mother," Casey mumbled, zipping up the formfitting skirt. "In the end my father will see what I can do. Shoot, he might even be proud of me!"

Looking in the full-length mirror one last time, Casey made sure her wavy red hair was presentable. She wanted everything about her demeanor to be perfect for the special celebratory dinner. Casey looked at the event as a long-awaited end, but more importantly, a hard-fought new beginning. "One more spray," she told her hair, "then we're outta here." Tonight she needed to keep up her stuffy business appearance. "Presentation is everything, Casey." How many times had her father stressed that upon her?

Casey slipped her protesting feet into the ugly gray work pumps. Elation washed over her knowing it would be the last time she would have to endure the treacherous toe mashers. Tomorrow both she and her feet would be free to move on to new adventures. All of her expensive three-piece designer suits, shoes, and matching bags were headed clear across town. Every one of them was going to someone who would not only appreciate them but also get good use out of them. That someone was Julie, her administrative assistant and keeper of all her secrets. They considered themselves sisters, of which neither had. Casey loved her quirky friend and admired her for doing the best she could with what she had. Julie deserved all of her suits and much more for everything she had done for Casey over the last four years.

Glancing at her watch, Casey realized she needed to get a move on and prayed rush-hour traffic through Tampa wasn't going to keep her from getting to the club on time. "Damn, Casey, of all nights for you to screw up."

She sprinted down the long hallway of the two-story mansion, stopping shortly when she got to the staircase. Staring at the wooden rail, realizing it may be a while, if ever again, she said, "Ah, what the hey." Casey yanked up her skirt, mounted it, and as she had done when she was a child, yelled, "Look out below." She began her descent. This was one of her favorite pastimes as a child—well, only when her father wasn't home, which was a good part of the time. On the few occasions he caught her, she paid the price. Yet the punishment never warranted not taking in the pleasure of the thrill ride, once the punishment was fulfilled of course.

There at the bottom of the staircase was Nellie, the family's live-in housekeeper, wagging her finger. Nellie had caught Casey a time or two, but she would never think of ratting her out to her father.

"Miss Casey, I must tell you, you still make my heart flutter when I watch you do that. You are lucky your father isn't here to witness such child's play. Don't you think you're way too old for that sort of nonsense?"

With devilish, childlike eyes, Casey replied. "Dear Nellie, you are never too old! And my heart races every time, which is exactly why I do it. You should try it sometime!"

Nellie's cheeks reddened just thinking of riding the rail. For over the years—well, when she was younger, and alone—she had experienced the adventurous ride herself.

"Have a wonderful evening and congratulations again," Nellie said.

"Thanks," Casey yelled back. Pushing the button for the third stall, the door slowly lifted open. The big tank, as she called it, was yet another thing her father insisted on. The Lexus 430 was not so much for her, but he wanted the clients his daughter entertained to be comfortable and impressed. She really didn't mind tooling around town in the large sedan. It was sturdy and safe and full of fun gadgetry. Even so, what she really longed for was the two-wheeled ride she secretly purchased just days ago. The salesman needed to make some minor changes to it before Casey could pick it up. It represented freedom to her.

Casey motored down the shrub-lined driveway and onto Oak Street, making turns and twists through the lavish, gated community. After a quick wave to the guard, she found the traffic was unusually tame for this hour of the evening. She was confident she would be on time if she took advantage of the valet, even though she didn't mind parking her own car. In fact, every chance she got, she parked in the farthest space in a lot, giving her the chance to stretch her legs and take in the warm Florida air.

The valet line was only three cars deep and dread began to sink in. As she inched up her vehicle, Casey was delighted to see Tim, the cute twentysomething, wave her up. He shot her a toothy smile that eased her jitters. Casey liked Tim. He was the only one in the bunch at the club that had a sense of humor and always called her by her first name. Casey admired his comedic talents. He had a knack for making her laugh by trying his hand at corny pick-up lines. It always earned him a twenty, though she could tell it was not her money he longed for.

Opening Casey's door, Tim held out his hand. "Hey, Casey, kill anybody in this monster today?"

Casey returned a sly smile and said, "Ah, Tim. I'm disappointed you doubt my driving talents."

After sliding her sleek legs out of the car, Casey stood toe to toe with Tim. It gave him no choice but to look her in the eyes.

"Casey, believe me, I have no doubt you have all kinds of talents. So when are you going to show me some of them?"

As she pinched his cheek, she pressed her key ring into the palm of his hand. "Be careful what you wish for, Tim," she said before strutting away.

Twirling his obnoxiously long mustache, Louie the creepy door attendant greeted her. He tipped his hat, as he did to everyone, and wished her, "Bon appetit." Casey proceeded past the reception podium, knowing just where she would find her parents. Her father would only sit at one table, and it had to be the one with the best view of the harbor. Taking in a deep breath, Casey continued on to the table. Her mother stood immediately. Mary Thomas greeted her daughter with a comforting hug. Casey told her mother how beautiful she looked, knowing her father probably would not, and it brought a smile to her face.

While greeting her daughter, Mary took a brief moment to disclose her plans for the next several days. Casey was happy to hear she would be accompanying her father to New York City tomorrow. Mary loved the big city and deserved a little fun and indulgence. Casey had fond memories of time spent with her mother there, dating back to when she was just a child. Mary favored midtown Manhattan's theater district. Her favorite restaurant, Triomphe, was where Mary introduced baked escargot to a then seven-year-old who was convinced it was alien eyeballs. Nevertheless, she ate them, knowing the chocolate mousse she was allowed to order as her main course was a fair trade-off.

Ready to join her father, a gut-wrenching feeling ripped through the pit of Casey's stomach. She swore there was a little person inside of her doing summer salts. Her palms became damp and a knot formed in her throat.

"Sit down, Casey. We've a lot to accomplish here tonight," her father barked.

Even sitting down, his large, handsome stature demanded attention. Nothing about the man was ever out of place. His tightly cropped gray hair was always perfectly styled. No strand was unruly, as Casey's often was. All of his suits were custom-made and never showed signs of wear or wrinkles. Funny how Casey could not recall ever seeing her father dressed in anything other than an expensive suit, even on weekends. In addition, her father's piercing grayish-blue eyes always got to her. They no longer scared Casey as they did when she was a child; now they just intimidated her. It was on occasions like this when Casey wondered whether his eyes would soften with age.

Casey paused and bit her lip, and then answered, "Yes, sir." There was too much at stake for her to mess it up with sarcasm.

Her father's coldness always felt numbing. This was supposed to be a celebration in her honor. After four long years, she had graduated from college with a business degree, something he was insistent on her achieving. KC Thomas did not attend the ceremony, for an important new acquisition to Thomas Industries took precedence. However, he did promise to make it up to her, as he always did.

Gazing at him, Casey thought, Maybe if you had been valedictorian or top ten in your graduating class, he may have rearranged his out-of-town trip. She was neither of those, not even close, yet her mother was very proud of her accomplishment.

The family sat quietly while their waiter described the dinner specials. The filet mignon drizzled with béarnaise sauce made Casey's mouth water. She would not be eating it, however. Her father, impatient with the waiter's slow tempo, stopped him at the smoked salmon entree and ordered for all three of them.

Taken aback with his intolerance, Casey questioned what it would be like to be Kenneth Charles Thomas III. It was tough enough being the daughter of the corporate mogul. What would it be like to be this man's son? What if they weren't related, would she see him in a different light? Would she respect him, or even like him? Casey knew her father's upbringing was not an easy one. KC was the product of an overbearing tyrant. The elder Thomas lost his wife when his son was an unruly toddler. The only female figures in the boy's life were the countless nannies who came and went. It was not because they didn't care for the boy; they just could not abide by the ironhanded employer's wishes. Every story Mary told Casey about her husband's defective childhood was in hopes her daughter would feel empathy for a man that simply didn't know better. Casey got that. What she didn't understand was why her father never chose, or wanted, to break the chain of dysfunction.

When Casey's Caesar salad arrived, she concluded that had she been a son, life would have been worse, a lot worse.

Breaking the awkward silence, and with little compassion, Casey's father spoke. "So, Casey, I don't think I need to tell you how proud we are of you." Lifting his glass of private stock champagne, the three of them clinked their glasses in her honor.

Kenneth C. Thomas handed her the envelope. She briefly looked in her mother's direction. Mary gave her a sly wink, doing her best to hide it from her husband, and then followed it up with a loving smile. Casey knew what to expect; Mary had already told her. Starting tomorrow Casey would begin living her dream.

Casey graciously accepted the envelope, pulled out its content, and stared in amazement. She lifted her attentions from the check to her parents. She was in shock because the amount of the gift was not what her mother had told her it would be. It was double. Once more Casey glanced at the amount of the check, just to make sure she had read it right. She had her hands on a half a million dollars!

"I don't know what to say! This is a very generous gift. Thank you," she said, getting up from her chair. Casey could count the amount of times she had kissed her father willingly on one hand. However, right now she deemed the act more than appropriate. Leaning down, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek and thanked him again. Her mother stood and the two shared an affectionate hug. "Thank you, Mom," Casey whispered in her ear. "But this isn't—"

Before her daughter could finish her sentence, Mary cupped her hands around her daughter's face and quietly spoke. "I know you will do amazing things with this gift."

There was still a lot of work to be done. Casey knew she had a long, sleepless night ahead of her. Sitting at her desk in the secluded confines of her bedroom, she pulled out two files from her briefcase. She opened the first file and leafed through each page, knowing the report lacked nothing except her signature. The well-detailed summation was everything her father requested and more. It was better than thorough; it was prepared with great passion, even Casey could see that. It just was not Casey's passion, rather the passion of her assistant Julie.

Coming from two dissimilar backgrounds, the girls had hit it off the first day they met at USF. It must have been an omen. They found themselves in all the same business classes; however, they were each there for very different reasons. Casey was there because she was forced to attend the school, while Julie was there because she had one principal dream in life. Julie wanted to be the female equivalent of Donald Trump someday. It was not that she was smarter than Casey was, but Julie applied herself because she wanted to. Casey had different aspirations, and it didn't include the world of corporate business. She hated attending business school. But what she hated more was the part-time internship at Thomas Industries. Being who she was, she had the pull it took to get Julie a job there as well. And when Casey's father asked the personnel director to assign his daughter an assistant, Casey made sure she was assigned Julie. The girls worked diligently together, though in the end, Casey got all the glory. She owed her friend big time, especially for covering for her when she had to get to ICS. Casey promised that one day she would make it up to her. That day had finally arrived. Not only would Julie be the recipient of Casey's designer business suits, but more importantly, Casey would be coming clean to her father. She was going to set the record straight on who really was responsible for making all her reports so well detailed and informative. Today Casey would be recommending Julie to her father as her replacement. Being a smart businessman, there would be no way he'd let Julie get away. Casey had no doubt that both she and her friend were going to be successful in their endeavors, as different as they were.

Casey put her signature on the bottom of the report, but for the first time, she was going to have Julie sign it as well. She returned the file to her briefcase and opened up the next one. It was a letter of resignation, effective immediately. The first page of the document was devoted to explaining her swift exit from Thomas Industries. It was simple but well written. Casey felt the shorter the better. The next two pages were dedicated to Julie and her contributions to Thomas Industries. She stated it was Julie's ambitious drive which would make her a front-runner to be her father's right-hand partner someday. Casey didn't intend to get personal, yet it needed to be said: "Julie Hughes has unselfishly and lovingly carried me through the past four years, both at business school and at work. You should feel lucky to have someone so loyal and dedicated working for you at Thomas Industries. I am very proud of her. I just hope someday, Father, you will be appreciative of me for what I intend on accomplishing."

Casey signed it, closed the file, and feeling relieved, slid it into her briefcase. She felt better than relieved; she felt liberated. Adrenaline kicked in. Nothing was stopping her now. There was still a list that was a mile long of things to achieve before sunrise. She turned on some upbeat music and dug in.

Casey's first task was to empty out the personal belongings from her desk. All that she would take filled one small box. Her closet was going to be a breeze as well. One whole side of the walk-in closet was dedicated to her business apparel. She packed all the suits neatly into boxes. A private courier would deliver them to Julie's home. Her casual clothes were packed into a suitcase, ready for their next destination, that of a much smaller closet.

With one last suitcase in tow, Casey scanned her room. The dresser where she hid her beloved t-shirts and blue jeans was next. KC never saw his daughter in jeans, and she couldn't wait to get her body into a pair. The other two drawers were less exciting. She thought about trashing them and just starting anew. It amazed her how uninviting her undergarments were. There wasn't a lacy thing in the drawer, but she vowed to change that. There had been no man to wear them for yet, but she swore that would change too.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Simply Delishableby Laura Kehoe Copyright © 2012 by Laura Kehoe. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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