by S. Silver
Many of the people who belonged to the country club chose to eat there instead cook every night so how well that night went decided whether or not the chef stayed on staff. Lydia loved to cook, but she did come to the country club quite often. She wondered what was in store for her. The entire restaurant was full so she decided that it was likely to be an interesting evening.
The hostess at her at her favorite table, which was right at the edge of the terrace with a view over the cliff so she could watch the waves crashing against the Pacific coast. The sun was setting and tiny glimmers of orange and yellow light were shining off the water. The dining hall was dark reds and burgundies with golden crown molding. Every table was lit with a single candle in the center. She felt like she stood out with her white dress. She liked to stand out. She didn’t think she was like everyone else, and she wasn’t. She like substance instead of materialism. She would’ve killed for a man across from her to talk to. Picking brains was a hobby of hers that she would pursue every chance she got if she could.
The hostess brought her her glass of water and went to go get the waitress to tell her the menu. She sat and looked out at the water. It seemed like these days she’d just been waiting for something to happen, even though it never really did. It was useless. She had just better find a hobby.
“Hello,” the waitress had bleach blond hair and orange skin, but she had yet to undergo any apparent surgeries. She was young. “Tonight is Chef Du Jour, we are showcasing dishes by our new head chef, Harold Tramping.”
“Yes. I saw.” She was getting a bit impatient. “What is he offering?”
“Well, there’s a nice chicken marsala with portabello mushrooms and a truffle risottos. Our soup for the evening is shrimp pho or a Thom Yum which can be spicy or sweet. We also have a Lamb biriyana made with couscous.” None of thsoesounded appetizing in the least. She hated all of the spices put in pho, it was simply too much and she could stand sour soups. She didn’t want it. Then there was the fact that he wasn’t offering a salad. She didn’t want chicken marsala. It reminded her of diarrhea and the idea of eating lamb biriyana with couscous instead of rice sounded terrible. What she did want, instead, was a nice steak. She would have to request it. They always had good filet mignon, and she was certain they had quite a few back there. They could easily just throw her on the grill there, and they usually gave her what she wanted because she paid and tipped well.
“Do you think, that if you told me them I was here, they might give me just a simple filet mignon, couscous and baked potato? I’m willing to pay more and wait.”
“Well, let me go ahead and ask and see what they say.” The waitress went back to the kitchen and stood in the door, so she could ask them about the steak. She just wanted to have a night out. She didn’t want to have to go back and make herself something, and she didn’t want to have to go somewhere else.
The waitress kept her head down and walked over to the table. “The chef says that they won’t give you filet mignon.”
“What? I’ve been getting custom orders for years, and I’m one of your best customers. Come tell him to speak with me personally.” The waitress seemed skeptical, but as soon as she walked up to the kitchen and told him he walked out. He was nice looking with blond hair and soft blue eyes. He had a good body, but with a little bit of a belly which she liked.
He sat down at the other side of the table and said, “Listen, I want to help you, but the restaurant is trying to up the ante. They only want me to make these shitty exotic dishes.”
She scoffed. “That’s gonna keep a lot of these people from coming here. Nobody wants that crap. Look,” she pointed to several tables where people had already left and another where a woman in a roller set was arguing with the waitress.
“I know. I told them. We’re going to switch back soon, but they want me to keep things like that for now.”
“I just want a steak. Can’t you put one on the grill for me. I mean, seriously, isn’t this about showcasing your style?”
“Tell you what,” he smiled at her and she began to blush. “Why don’t you come to my house in about two hours and I’ll cook you the best steak you’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
“I mean it.” His smile was getting wider and his eyes were searching all over her body. “I never want to keep a beautiful woman from a good meal.”
“Alright. Give me your address and your number. I’m gonna head home and change and text you when I’m ready.”
“Great.” He shook his butt mockingly, just enough for her to notice when she walked away. It was delicious. This was definitely going to be a wonderful evening.
Chapter 2
She wore a bright red dress with a slit going up just a little bit past the thing, bright red pumps and a nice diamond necklace that stopped well below the neckline. She just felt like dressing up. She wasn’t sure if she was going to a formal affair, and she didn’t care. She loved trying on pretty clothes and wearing nice things. That was one of the best things about being rich. She could enjoy the finer things in life, and clothes were definitely no exception.
Many of the things she wore were custom made. She had her own series of corsets that she wore to give her the proper shape. She had all of her dresses fitted to match her body, and she picked out all of the material and designs herself. She didn’t go to just any tailors either, she went to designers that were known for creating some of the most famous clothing labels in the world. Some turned her away, they didn’t appreciate her body type, but most were willing to create her into the living sculpture she deserved to be. She was a beauty. She was a classic Botticelli, and she didn’t mind showing it one bit when she showed up in her limo at the tiny cookie cutter house in southern end of the city.
Harry answered the door wearing a simple white button up and jeans. His house was just as simple. He didn’t like decorating much, she could tell. He had nice black leather couches and a great T.V. He definitely took pride in his electronics, and he took pride in his kitchen. With its all stainless steel appliances and black marble counter tops, it was a formidable room. She admired a man who could cook.
“Now,” he pointed to a stool near the bar. “You just have a seat and watch me work my magic.” She laughed and did as she was told.
He chopped up garlic and marinated the fillets in that and cracked black pepper, with a touch of salt. It was simple but looked effective. Then he chopped mushrooms and onions. He sauteed the onions and set the mushrooms aside. He worked silently. They didn’t need words. He was proving himself to her and she saw why. His seductive looks and roaming eyes spoke volumes. He liked what he saw and she did too. She wanted to get to know him.
“This is the best trick.” Everything was going perfectly and the last things left was the mushrooms. “What you do is you sautee the mushrooms in butter and really get them hot, with a little bit of salt and pepper, then you add a touch of whiskey,” once he did, the entire pan went up in flames and she jumped. He grabbed the pan and ran back, surprised, then he simply moved the pan around to flip the mushrooms. He looked back and grinned.
She found Harold to be one of the sweetest men she’d ever met. He cherished her, and cared for her. She stayed that night and went to his house for dinner every night thereafter. Their lives intertwined quickly, just like their heart.s it was a passionate romance that moved quickly and intensely. She’d never been in love before, and the shock of it, that sweet ecstasy, made her feel like she’d been born anew. She discovered another person fully, in a way that she never thought possible. She knew everything about his life, his friends, and she knew every single crevice on his entire body. She knew every dimple, every blemish, every wrinkle and she loved every single one. He knew just as much and loved her as fully as a man could ever love a woman. She had that partner to sit across from her at the table and connect with her.
He liked people of substance and depth. He saw the world as a place to be experience and enjoyed just like she did. He didn’t car
e about what was in her pocketbook. He’d spent most of his career catering to the rich, and he didn’t like most of them. He found them to be shallow ridiculous creatures who were led by greed. He was simple, just like she was. He was happy with his little house and the money that he made. He didn’t need to use the jet or wear ridiculously expensive clothes. He never asked her for anything, and insisted on paying for everything. His life revolved around making her happy and playing the gentleman. He was fiercely independent and hardly able to be pulled away from that. She could’ve given him anything he wanted, but he wouldn’t allow it.
Chapter 3
“I was thinking we could have dinner at the country club tonight.” Harold had a playful tone to his voice. She had been getting ready to head over there when he called.
“But the kitchen is closed today, Harold, you know that.”
“I closed it so we could have a romantic evening together.”
Why would he do that? She wasn’t sure that was a good idea. “You might get yourself in trouble Harold.”
“No. I paid off the supervisor. All they care about is money. It’s a country club.” he had a good point.
“Oh. Alright.”
“Great! Wear something awesome, Lydia. I’ll see you at 6.”
“I’ll see you then.” She hung up the phone to begin getting ready.
She chose a gorgeous black evening gown and did her hair up in a curly up do with a diamond necklace and long earrings. She wore black two-inch pumps that made her look like she was just under 6 feet, which she considered to be the perfect height to be able to reach up and kiss him. This was a special evening. It had been a year since he first cooked dinner for her, so she wanted it to be perfect. Nothing could ruin their evening.
The limo came to pick her up, and she had herself a small glass of champagne to ease her nerves. He was up to something.
The country club at night was a magical land of white lights and tiny pieces art strewn about the grounds. They made it to be the perfect garden, at night and during the day. When she entered into the reception area, she admired the tiny marbles angel sculptures on either side of the doorway. There was a soft orchestra playing, and the same hostess came up to greet her with a beaming smile.
“Right this way miss.” She took her coat and ushered her into her favorite table. Lydia held her dress and sat down. The hostess was still smiling down at her. ‘I’ve been instructed to offer you one of our finest wines from the wine cellar below.”
“I’ll have a chardonnay and a glass of cold water to go along with it.”
“Wonderful! I’ll have that right out.” The champagne hadn’t done its job and she was still extremely nervous about what was going on. Maybe he just wanted an anniversary dinner. Butterflies were swimming in her stomach, banging against the walls, and the wine couldn’t come soon enough.
* * * * *
Crow was not a fan of the country club. He hated everything about it. Terrible things happen when the rich get together. They laugh at other people, they give themselves a circle jerk about how great they are, and they figure out which country is cheaper to outsource too. He didn’t like that fact that the pace was built on the backs of laborers like his father.
He revved his motorcycle engine when he pulled up to the guard’s house. “Excuse me, sir. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This place is for members only.”
He reached in the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a tiny piece of paper. It was a guest pass that his father had gotten for him. He handed it to the guard and yell, “Fu** you,” as soon as the gate opened.
He took the helmet off to reveal a head of shaggy black hair and walked into the service entrance with it still under his arm. When he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t even bother to wipe his feet.
“What the fu** do you think you are doing, huh?” His father Harold was running up to him with a mop in his hand.
“Fu** you,” Crow took out a cigarette and before he could light it his father picked up a glass of water and threw it in his face.
“You wanna get your rent paid this month? I invited you here as a favor. You could just go without the pay and find yourself out on the streets.”
“WHAT!” The sound was leaving the kitchen. It was a good thing that she wouldn’t be there for a while. He could’ve ruined the whole thing. “You remember that oil fire in the last place? It would be a shame to have this entire thing burn down wouldn’t it.” He’d dried off enough to get a cigarette going.
“Do the damn dishes and get yourself an apron. I need your help with the salads. I don’t care what you burn down. You’re not going to ruin tonight.”
“I hope she tells you to fu** off.” he went back to the dishes and scrubbed them as fast as he could. He chopped the vegetables, then went out bck to smoke a bowl. He wasn’t about to sit around and wait to see what happened. He had all of the trays ready, and everything they needed to have a great evening.
Chapter 4
“How was the steak?”
“Divine.” Harold took Lydia’s hand and met her eyes, then he took a guzzle form a glass of fine merlot.
“Come walk on the beach with me.” The moon was a radiant light revealing tumultuous waves ripping back and forth along the shore line and tickling against her bare feet as her dress blew in the wind in back of her.
He pulled his hands from her grasp and his lips crashed against hers. His warm breath made her shiver. She loved this man. That was probably the first time she’d ever admitted that to herself, but he said it aloud, softly.
He got down on his knee and pulled a box out of his pocket. “Oh my God!” She burst into tears. This moment was the most amazing moment she’d ever experienced. A year ago, she was sure that it would never happen. Nobody had ever loved her like this, and she had never felt this way before. The only time this happened was in her dreams, but it happened just like this. She loved the beach and she’d always imagined that this was where she’d be proposed to, on this exact spot, and there she was barely able to see through her tears. When he took her hand, he was so warm, a comfort in the cool night air.
“I think I loved you from the moment I met you, Lydia. I thought for sure you’d turn me away. You were too rich, too beautiful to love a simple cook like me, but over time I came to realize that you were also down to earth and simple just like I am. This has been the most amazing year of my entire life, and I never want to it end.” She was shivering and balling like a little girl. “Lydia Hutchins, will you be my wife?”
“Yes!” He cried just as much as she did when he sat up and hugged her. He put the ring on her hand and knew for certain that it would never leave. They walked hand in hand up to the country club to enjoy their dessert.
There were two covered platters on the table when they got back, and Lydia decided a nice sugary treat would be the best way to end their magical evening. He pulled her chair out for her and helped her sit down, then moved to his side and waited till she was seated just like a gentleman.
“Thank you,” she said. “Did you know I’d say yes.”
“Everything about you, Lydia, has always seemed too good to be true. I still can’t believe you’re here with me. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”
He lifted the cover off of her dish and the alcohol started coming up. She truned to the left and puked violently, then turned back to see a cockroach the size of her fist on top of her flan with a sticky note on top that said, “I love you new mommy.”
“I’m so sorry. Let me get you home.”
“What’s his fu**ing name!?” Harold’s face was beet red. “How old is he? Is he there with you? I will hunt that little shit down to the ends of the fu**ing earth!”
“Calm down, Lydia. His name is Crow. He’s 19 and he is most certainly a little shit.”
“He can’t come to the wedding.”
“That’s already been planned out. He knows he can’t go and doesn’t want to.”
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“What crawled up his ass!?” Harry laughed.
“He misses his mother.” Angie passed away three years before Lydia met him. She died of cancer, and they didn’t talk about it much, because she knew that he still missed her, but he was moving on. “He thinks of this as me betraying her.”
“Well, he’ll come around.”
“You don’t know him. He won’t come around. He’ll just try to make things a living hell for us.”
Chapter 5
Maggie was Lydia’s best friend, and aside from Harold, one of the few people she trusted in the entire world. That meant that she was the first person she called when it was time to deal with the wedding planning. Harold didn’t want much part in it. They both wanted an intimate wedding, with very few people and a tiny reception. The entire thing would be held at the mansion to make things easier. They met for luch at the Garden to talk about the preparations.
Maggie wore a tight lavender mini-dress that showed off her perfect body with her brown pixie cut and perfect makeup. Her style was simple, but flashy and elegant.
“Hey, Lydia. So tell me everything.” they both sat down and she began telling her about the proposal.
“Well, that’s wonderful. It must’ve been a perfect night.” Lydia sighed.
“It wasn’t. Apparently, he asked his son to help with the dinner and when I opened my dessert plate there was a huge cockroach on it with a note on it.”
“What’d it say?”
“I love you new mommy.” Her tone was dripping with disdain.
“Is he coming to the wedding?”
“Harold told me that he wouldn’t be allowed to go, and that he’d already told the boy that.”