Considering the way he and Darcy had started out, he almost needed a miracle. He’d spent a restless night, listing his options. And the very next day he started working on them. He waited until Darcy entered Welham’s back kitchen before popping a forkful of coconut cheesecake into his mouth. “Mmmm,” he moaned, closing his eyes. “Delicious.” He took another bite, then addressed his comment to one of the assistant chefs. “Whoever created this recipe is gifted!” “Hope you choke on it, Davidson,” Darcy said under her breath as she passed behind him. He gritted his teeth, pretending he hadn’t heard her. As soon as she clocked in and left, he shoved the half-eaten pie at the dishwasher. Picking up his clipboard, he slapped at the pages of his legal pad until he came to the page titled The Darcy Dilemma. Sweeping his gaze down the list, he came to item number three: Try flattery. He crossed it out with a vengeance, then wrote beside it, Flattery won’t work. Two days later, Michael strolled up to Darcy as she punched in an order on the computerized terminal.
