Kassandra and Kalliste
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The List Ch. 03 free porn video
The List Ch. 3 ‘Good Cook’
Grant sat up with a start the next morning and rubbed his aching head. He hadn’t thought that he had had that much to drink, but his pounding head and queasy stomach told him otherwise. He gingerly placed his feet on the floor and dropped his head between his knees. That seemed to make him feel better. After what seemed like a hundred years, he stood up scratched his belly and made his way to the adjoining bathroom to take a shower. He thought about Carrie as he washed his hair, he thought about the way they had danced the night before as he soaped his body. He thought about their quick goodnight kiss as he stepped out of the shower and toweled off. There was something about this woman that just wouldn’t let him go. When her wonderfully smooth milk chocolate colored skin, dark almond-shaped eyes, and well-rounded body in a body hugging pink sweater and fitted black pants came to mind he was not surprised to see that he was already hard. He laughed to himself and muttered “Down, Jamie!” and thought decidedly unsexy thoughts until his mind was off of Carrie. As he was tugging on a pair of boxer-briefs, the phone next to his bed rang. He picked up the receiver and answered more cheerfully than he felt.
“Hello?”
“Grant, it’s Janna.” The voice on the other end of the line said briskly. “We need you for a meeting ASAP.”
“I just stepped out of the shower, but I can be dressed and at the house in about ten minutes.” What is this about? He thought to himself as he put on a pair of jeans, oatmeal colored cotton sweater and sandals. He strolled across the property to the guesthouse that was being used as quarters for the staff and crew, and adjusted his sunglasses to the top of his head. He looked around the sprawling grounds as he waited for someone to open the door, and thought for the thousandth time that is was strange that he was here. His friend Rob worked as an assistant to the famous reality show producer, Ron Headly and had pulled Grant aside at a cocktail party a few months ago and asked if he was seeing anyone.
“No, not right now,” Grant had answered hesitantly. Why in the world would Rob ask him a question like that? He wondered.
“My boss is casting for a new show and I really think that you would be perfect for it.” Rob has begun,
“Oh, no! I’ve seen some of the shows your boss has put together,” Grant had answered shaking his head. “I am not eating rat brains or anything like that.”
“This isn’t one of those shows, Grant. This is a dating show. Ron is looking for someone who is a successful businessman that would like to find a woman to settle down with. I think you are just what we are looking for. You’re handsome, funny, rich—“
“Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Rob,” Grant pretended to bat his eyelashes at his friend and giggled coyly.
“You know what I mean!” Ron said taking a nervous sip of his beer. If he could get Grant onto this show, there would be a bonus in it for him as well as the possibility of a raise. “You have said a million times or more that you have trouble meeting the right women, let the show help you.”
“Please. Both of us know that the only women who show up for that kind of thing are golddiggers or women who want to get their faces out there so that they can be discovered. No thanks, buddy!” Grant patted Rob on the back and started to turn away.
“Wait! It could be exposure for you firm!” Rob called out quickly. He watched Grant turn back to him slowly.
“Are you suggesting that I go on national television to promote the business that I have worked so hard to build for the past eight years?”
“W-well, that is-um…” Rob searched for the words he thought his friend might agree to. But was having trouble even remembering why he had brought it up in the first place.
“I love the idea!” Grant blurted. “Anyway, how bad of a job can the show do? I certainly haven’t had much luck trying to find Ms. Right on my own!”
“Come by the office on Monday and we’ll talk about the particulars and set you up with a screen test!” Rob couldn’t believe his luck. That new BMW was well within reach now.
The door to the guesthouse which was doubling as the meeting house and dorm for the staff working on the show was flung open and Janna looked at him. “Come in, Grant, Ron is waiting for you.” Grant followed her down the short hallway and waited until she opened a door. “Wait here, please,” she directed him into the room then left closing the door softly behind her.
Grant sat down and looked around himself a little nervously and anxiously chewed a hang nail while he wondered for the twentieth time why he was there. Grant’s eyes were studying an incredibly ugly painting above the fireplace in the dining room when he heard the door open and he turned.
“Grant! Good to see you!” a fiftyish year-old-man said with warmth as he walked through the door. He was none other than Ron Headly, the executive producer of the show. I must be in real trouble, if he has come to talk to me in person. Grant reflected.
“Hello, Ron.” Grant extended his hand and began to stand up.
“Have a seat, my good man,” Ron smiled and shook grant’s hand efficiently, “Quite a date you had last night, eh?” Grant was startled to know that Ron had already seen the date, but then he had probably seen everything, he was the producer after all. He had seen ever move that had been made from the very beginning, Grant was sure.
“Yes, we had a good time,” Grant said cautiously.
“I want to talk to you about a certain contestant—“
“Carrie?” Grant’s eyebrows shot up. This wasn’t going to be anything nice.
“Yes, Carrie. It occurs to me and it is evident to all the rest of the crew that there are feelings that are not being hidden between the two of you.” Ron’s standing over Grant was making him nervous as Ron had intended. Grant fought the urge to squirm and kept level eye contact with Ron. He was determined not to let Ron see how uncomfortable he really was. So it was evident that they cared for one another, huh?
“You have to keep the audience guessing,” Ron continued. “If there is no mystery, there will be no audience, if there is no audience, there is no show and I will not have one of my shows pulled from the air, do you understand?” His pale blue eyes were hard and his words crystal clear.
“Yes, sir,” Grant mumbled. He resented being scolded like a child.
“I’m glad that we understand one another. Now pay some attention to the other seven beautiful women in that house—don’t choose too soon, my boy, be sure, there are a lot of men who would want to be in your shoes right now.” Ron turned on his heel and strode out the door leaving Grant to exhale angrily and sulk like a young boy.
“Grant?” Janna poked her head through the door “Don’t forget that you have that challenge in thirty minutes.”
“Yeah, okay,” Grant stood and walked up to the door, but Janna didn’t move.
“I’m really sorry about that,” Janna said gently. “I had no idea that is why Ron requested the meeting.”
“It’s alright, I know you were just doing your job,” Grant said heavily.
“For what it’s worth, I think you and Carrie are perfect together,” Janna gave him a brilliant smile. “I think she’s good for you.” She scampered away and left Grant to let himself out of the house. He allowed himself a small smile, and then he walked out the door and headed toward the mansion.
* * *
“Ladies!” Sunny called to the Group who was gathered in the living room. All of the women were waiting to see what the challenge would be for today and most of the had been chatting loudly for a good part of the morning, all except for Carrie, whom Collette gave a wo
rried look to. During breakfast, Carrie had seemed to be on top of the world, and then she had been called away by Janna. When she had returned a few minutes later it was obvious that she had been crying. The sniffing and the red rimmed eyes were the tell-tale signs, but she was being so close lipped about what had happened that Collette was worried that Carrie was being let go from the show. Collette gave her new friend a pat on the shoulder and gave her arm a small hug. She would get to the bottom of this. “Ladies, this morning we will have a cook off that will showcase your abilities in the kitchen. Grant is seeking a woman that has not only beauty and brains, but a lady who also knows her way around the kitchen.
“We have here, slips of paper that have which course you will be required to make. You may make your best item within that category, and you have one hour in which to make it. Good luck to you all, we will be taking you to the kitchens we have set up in just a few moments.”
Carrie frowned and sighed. This morning was getting worse and worse. When she had awaked this morning she had been on top of the world. When she was eating her breakfast she had been called away to talk to the head producer and had been told to stay away from Grant, and now she was going to have to cook for him. There were many things in which Carrie excelled, but cooking was not one of them. She was an embarrassingly bad cook.
The women were walked to an outdoor tent that was divided into eight separate kitchens, four on each side of an aisle, with a fair amount of workspace around each of the ovens. When the women were in their respective kitchens the small box that Sunny had shown them earlier was passed to them and they were given their assignments. Carrie groaned. Dessert, the printed piece of paper said. What in hell was she going to make? Carrie decided on cookies, how hard could those be? She tried to think of a cookie recipe that she might know and she went to gather her supplies. She said a small prayer, tied a green and white checkered apron around her slim waist, grit her teeth and set to work.
Grant was ushered into the women’s workspace and told to walk around and talk to each one to find out what they were going to make for him and to get to know them better. He looked for Carrie expectantly and saw that she was the last booth on his left hand side and made a mental note to save their conversation for last.
The women were told to start and as they worked furiously Grant stopped at each booth and made small talk with the women. Leah’s eyes gleamed as he approached her and she put a sexy smirk on her face.
“Well, hello!” she said as she expertly cracked an egg into her bowl.
“Hello, Leah,” Grant smiled at her and watched as she mixed the egg with a bit of buttermilk and a pinch of salt. “What category did you choose?” He asked as she took out a peppermill and ground a bit of pepper into the batter.
“Main course, my love.” Something about the way she said it made Grant’s hair stand on end. “I hope you don’t mind fried chicken. This is a special recipe that my grandma learned from her mama and it has been passed down to all of the women in my family since.” She brought up a tray of raw chicken and dipped it piece by piece into the egg mixture. She then rolled the eggy portion in flour and then repeated the steps again. “If you dip it twice it makes the crust crispier.” She explained.
So, where are you from?” He asked as she dropped her first piece into the waiting fryer. The sound of crackling oil overpowered Leah’s voice for a moment, but when she repeated it for him he nodded. “Chicago, huh? I grew up just a few hours from there. My senior year of high school my friends and I would go up there for the weekend at least once a month.”
Leah smiled brightly. “It’s a great place to grow up. I would love to raise my own children there.”
“I only saw the nightlife, but I’m sure that it was.”
“Maybe I’ll get a chance to show you around sometime,” she said hopefully. She made a show of taking the chicken out of the fryer and placing it on a bed of paper towels to drain. “And I can even make you a home cooked meal!”
“Great,” Grant answered none too enthusiastically.
“I should go and check on some of the other contestants,” he absently waved his hand in the direction of the others.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” She was disappointed that Grant was leaving.
“See you later, Leah.”
Grant walked away gratefully and started towards Carrie’s booth, almost skipping two other women.
“Grant!” Janna called to him. He turned around and saw her hurrying to his side. “Don’t forget to wish Courtney and Tiffany luck.” She arched her eyebrows in an effort to let him know that he was being watched.
“Thanks, Janna.” He sighed. All he wanted to do was talk to Carrie for a few precious minutes. He headed over to the first booth and watched as Courtney whipped up a delicate soufflé and as Tiffany put the finishing touches on a pasta salad. When he was finally able, he sought out Carrie and chuckled when he saw the smear of flour across her forehead.
“Hey, stranger,” he murmured.
“Grant! Hi!” she said cheerfully, and then she looked down to inspect her shoes. Ah, he thought, they spoke to her too.
“So what did you draw?” He asked softly.
“Dessert!” she whined. “I’m such a bad cook, Grant. If there is one thing I can promise you, it’s that this will be terrible!”
“I doubt that,” he said. “I bet there is nothing you can’t do.”
“Cooking is that one thing. I may be brilliant on paper, but I can’t boil water.” They laughed together.
“I had a great time last night.” He cooed.
“Me too.” She smiled affectionately. “But we have to—“
“I know,” he said before she could finish. He let himself get lost in her thickly lashed, dark brown eyes and then he blinked. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.” He said finally.
“I know.” She studied her shoe again and the looked up and winked so quickly Grant almost didn’t see it. “I’m not going to win this competition, but I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” he put out his hand and wiped away the flour. They both started at the tingle that jumped from his body to hers. “See you later, Carrie.” He said as he turned and walked away.
“Yeah,” Carrie whispered to no one in particular.
* * *
Grant had had dish after dish of food brought to him and frankly, he was tired of eating, but he was waiting for Carrie to come through the door and so he endured every dish that came to him and each one of the ladies who looked so expectantly at him. Some of the dishes were quite tasty. Leah’s fried chicken was definitely the best so far, but some of the dishes were bland and others were just plain awful. He sighed and patted his stomach, then watched the door open yet again. When would dessert finally get here? Collette came in bearing the first of the desserts and Grant smiled at her as she served the beautifully executed chocolate cake.
“I hope you like it,” She breathed as she set the plate in front of him. He really was stunning, but to tell the truth, he was not her type. In fact, men were not her type at all. There was something about women that made her heartbeat faster and her palms get sweaty. It had been that way for as long as she could remember. She laughed a little as she watched him take a bite and close his eyes in ecstasy. This was a phenomenal cake.
“This is amazing, Collette!” Grant exclaimed taking another bite, and then another. “The best cake I have ever had!”
“Thanks,” she said humbly, “I learned the recipe from my mother. But I have to tell you, I almost didn’t make it in here, the other ladies tried really hard to hijack t
he cake!”
“I’m glad that the both of you made it in safe and sound,” he laughed.
“Yeah, thanks.” She took the remainder the cake and put it at the far end of the table with a smile. “Would you like another piece?” They both chuckled at the innocent double entendre and then Grant shook his head.
“No, but thank you.”
“Then I hope you won’t mind if I take this to the waiting vultures out there.” Collette pointed to the door that she had just come through.
“Not at all.” She smiled fetchingly over her shoulder on the way out and called “Here comes Carrie.”
Carrie hurried through the door that Collette had left open for her and heard it close behind her. She was the last of the women to make her presentation, and she had been on pins and needles waiting to get close to Grant. She grinned at him and set the tray down in front of him. There were only six cookies on the plate but they were grossly misshapen and burned.
“Sadly, these are the best of the batch,” Carrie said, grimacing.
“They look—well—very good?” Grant said trying to be diplomatic.
Carrie laughed merrily, “Don’t spare my feelings, I know they’re terrible, I’ve tried them already.” She watched with her mouth open as Grant lifted one off of the plate. It was far heavier than he expected it to be. “I can’t believe you’re going to do it!” She said in amazement. He took a bite and made a face. True to her word, the cookie was awful. He chewed for two more bites before Carrie finally handed him a napkin and told him to spit it out which he did thankfully.
“That was—“ He was truly at a loss for words.
“Terrible. Bad. Dreadful. Awful…feel free to stop me at any time.”
“It was all of the above.”
“I tried to warn you.” Carrie said in a sing-song voice. “There are many things that I can do, but not cook, sorry.”
“That’s what restaurants are for,” Grant’s eyes half closed as he gazed at Carrie. She could see the desire for her in his eyes and she stood quickly. There was no way she was going to be accused of cheating at this game and get thrown out of the house.
“I should go,” She said a bit too loudly.
“Yeah,” Grant said snapping out of his stupor.
“I hope to see you soon,” Carrie said smoothly.
“You will.” He answered back. Grant watched her retreating back and laughed heartily. She had been right. There was no way she was going to win this contest, but he was determined to be with her again. He smirked as he stood up and went to the door, he had to pick a winner, and let someone else go, but his mind was already formulating a way to get close to Carrie at the next round. As far as he was concerned, she was the only woman for him and he was going to get her.
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