by Amy Brent
Nicole found herself looking back and forth between Gandry and Zach, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she got to order a world-class chef around. “Pinch me,” she said to Zach.
Zach leaned over and kissed her. “You’ll do great,” he said.
Gandry had found another apron by now, and he was rolling up his sleeves—there were the tattoos of the lion and the unicorn that he’d spent many an interview expounding upon. “Damn,” he said, turning to Zach. “I might have to poach her if she pulled out all this from a home kitchen.”
Zach gave her a See, I told you so look.
“Right,” she said. “Can you start the tuiles? The forms are next to the sink. They need to be baked at three-fifty for five minutes and then shaped against the ladle.”
***
The party goers were all investors in Zach’s company; some of them had contributed seed money, some of them had given him money to expand his operations. All of them had gotten their money, plus interest, and now they were clients of Zach’s MasterClass experience. “So it’s more like a ‘thanks for your money’ party and less of a fun party,” Zach had murmured, as she put the finishing touches on the hors d’ouevres: foie gras pureed into a light and airy mouse, grounded by a bitter coffee-and-chocolate wafer, topped with a dot of creme fraiche; the cucumber slices that she’d been working on earlier; a consommé so clear and light she served in champagne glasses; cubes of beef covered in spiced bread crumbs floating on a red wine reduction so thick it was more like a cream, hiding the little dot of mushroom cream that held it together in the little amuse glass. And that was just the beginning.
Each hors d’ouevres had its own wine to go with it, and with the champagne, and the truffles that she was shaving into the dessert, even Zach had paled a bit when she passed him the receipts. But as she watched the faces that milled around the living room and patio she decided it was worth it. Zach certainly seemed to have forgotten about the sticker shock. He was in his element, glad-handing people without a trace of the frostiness he was known for, something that several people remarked on. “What can I say?” he said, in response. “I finally got a cook worth a damn.”
More than one person popped into the kitchen when they heard that, wondering who the cook was. When they saw Gandry they invariably assumed that he was the cook—and she knew she should be annoyed but for some reason the anonymity was more reassuring. It meant that they took her to be on the same level as a world-class chef, a fact that was not lost on Gandry, who started pointing out that she was the cook, and he was just her assistant. “But you’re Gandry Blossom,” said more than one confused party-goer. “I know,” he said, winking. “Even I had to start somewhere.”
That fixed her in the minds of all of the party goers—who was this young upstart who was bossing around a great like Gandry Blossom? She smiled and kept her head down, pleased with the attention her food was getting but also a little alarmed, as more than one person invited her to come work for them. She was hearing salaries that she’d assumed that only people like Gordon Ramsey made—salaries big enough for her to afford an honest-to-God apartment in Manhattan—and it was hard for her to believe that this could all be true. By the end of the evening she’d amassed a small stash of business cards from people who were all eager that she call them. “We’ll work out terms,” they promised her.
The last of the guests had gone, and she was still thinking about them. A life as a private chef was a pretty sweet gig—a food budget every week that was equal to what she spent in a month, and some of them had invited her to places like St. Tropez, “so I can let show my kids what real food is”. It would be so easy to call the number and agree to come with them. And yet, for all that Zach was a hard nut to crack, she found herself reluctant to make the call.
All of the lights were off; the penthouse was being lit solely by the glow of New York City at night, and though she could have turned on the lights the darkness suited her thoughtful mood. She was loading the last load of dishes into the dishwasher when Zach came in and said, “Well, that’s how Zachary Spencer does parties.” He held out a glass to her. In the darkness the wine looked like blood. “What is it?” he asked.
“I got at least six offers,” she said.
“I’ll meet them.”
She looked at him—if there was anybody who understood that money wasn’t what drove her it was him, so what was he doing offering her money? “You’re free to go, you know that?” he asked, his voice sounding strangled. He was standing with his back to the window, so she couldn’t see his eyes.
“Do you want me?” she asked.
“More than anything.”
“So why won’t you ask me to stay?”
He was silent for a long time, and then he moved to the breakfast bar and sat down on one of the stools. “It’s not something I can ask of someone,” he said, finally. “Would it make you feel better if I did?”
She shook her head. “You really do have a way with women,” she said, raising her glass.
“But you get me, don’t you?”
She couldn’t help but smile.
***
A year later she opened the doors to Wrapped, and took down the photo of Chris Temporino. Gandry and the rest of the line cooks, and the re-hired servers, applauded. There was champagne, and then, after poring through menu notes with Gandry, she said, “Right, people, let’s do this! Doors open at six.”
There was something inordinately pleasing about a well-run kitchen. She felt a little bad for Chris—he’d hired good people, and ended up driving them away. Maybe this was why Zach never asked her to stay—if this was where she belonged, then she’d stay, same as the line cooks.
She was writing out the “soup of the day” when she saw Zach in the doorway. “Well?” he said.
Nicole shrugged, knowing what he was really asking: how did Chris take handing over the keys to his restaurant? Between Zach and one of his friends, she’d saved up enough money to make a convincing case for Zach to spot her the money to buy our Chris’s stake in Wrapped. He’d handed over the keys and the lease (unhappily—she’d lowballed him) a month ago, and she’d spent the rest of the money getting the place re-done, so that it was a litte less weathered-wood, more sleek and elegant, with two stoves and one grill instead of the other way around, and a better placement for the sink. The staff who’d come back nodded their approval at the changes.
But now the real work was beginning: running place like this was going to take everything she ever understood about food and cooking and people, and then some. And yet for some reason, she didn’t feel the slightest bit phased by it. “It seems to be going all right,” she said, now, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.
He pulled her against him and pressed a kiss against her, and it took her back to the days in the beginning of their relationship, when it was ice-cold and then red-hot, all within ten minutes. “I know you can do it,” he murmured. It took everything she had to break it off before they started getting naked on the table, but as she headed back to the kitchen she saw him wink at her—it was all she needed to be certain: everything would be all right.
GAME ON
Tempest
Tempest Sinclair had dealt with a lot of men in her life and she knew this day would be no different. She pushed back her mass of springy hair from her shoulders as she watched the men file into the room one at a time. It was the usual crowd, all tycoons from one organization or another and she, as always, was the one who would deal with the bad attitudes. All of them had the same demeanor, over fed rich men with too much power. She frowned as she waited for the last one, telling herself to take a deep breath before she stood to give the presentation to them.
She loved her job, that much was true but dealing with the big companies was often too much for her to take on alone. She scowled once more thinking of Robert and how he had bailed on her… again. This was the third time, and truth be told she was tired of covering for him. Typically, these big corpor
ate meetings were made up of these big wigs, and they all gravitated towards her male counterpart.
Some part of her had to wonder if it had to do with being a plus sized woman. Sure, she was not some skinny gal, but she was beautiful and curvy and she took good care of herself. Too often men would be intimidated by her, but that simply was out of her hands. If a man wasn’t interested because he was intimidated, then she simply didn’t want him anyway. One of these days she would find someone who fit the bill, but in the mean time she would deal with the men who paid her paycheck.
She stood moving towards the front of the room to turn and greet everyone with a smile and click the button to start the presentation. She did her usual routing about who she was and what she did. Her job was to incorporate new companies into the HR system that she was a part of. They would be a systematic help in hiring and management of all the employees, which was especially helpful with big conglomerates such as these. She gave a little background about the company and showed some of the other holdings they were a part of when the doors flew open and she found herself face to face with him.
She stopped speaking, folding her arms as a mother would do when dealing with a petulant child. He was gorgeous, tall and blond with striking features that he was clearly sure of. His eyes were a clear blue and the smile he gave her was one she knew in an instant that he had likely used thousands of times when trying to get out of trouble. He let his eyes flick over her face and then down the length of her quickly which only added to the anger she was starting to feel creep up.
“Sorry I am late, please continue.” He waved her on as if she was some person who worked solely for him.
She cleared her throat as she watched him get settled in a seat in the back. Picking up where she left off she finished explaining what they did as a company, and how they could help other business be successful. She flicked the pointer closed and turned to face the group.
“That’s all I have for your gentleman. If you have any questions feel free to ask now, or see me as you leave. I will also leave some paperwork for you to take with you.”
The group was nice enough, most of them seemed interested, at least on a moderate level. She smiled to them as they filed out, some of them asking her a question or two. She knew he was still there, still waiting and watching her as if she was somehow there for him alone. She finally spun around to face him.
“Did you have a question Mr…” She trailed off
“Hoelshing. Reed Hoelshing, and I have a lot of questions.” He smiled again and for the first time she felt as if she knew she was headed down a path she would later regret.
“Ask away, Mr. Hoelshing.” She crossed her arms once more and he chuckled lightly.
“Do you do that a lot; you know cross your arms like my mother?” He leaned back in his chair and waited.
“I don’t know, I don’t much think about it, do you always give your mother reason to do it to you?” She arched an eyebrow at him as he narrowed his gaze for a mere second.
“Yes, in fact I go out of my way to give her as much grief as I can, in a loving way of course.” He stood then, towering over her. “So tell me what I missed.”
It was more arrogance than she cared to deal with. “Listen Mr. Hoelshing, I am sure whatever made you late today was very important, but I simply can’t make time to give every tycoon I meet a personal presentation. I have to get going.” She slipped on her jacket, buttoning it quickly as she gathered up her things. She felt him still standing there, watching her but she refused to look at him.
“You are a little spitfire aren’t you.” He laughed lightly. “Very well Miss… Sinclair. I will give you a call and see if we can’t set something up then.”
She glanced his way as he held a flyer in his hand with all of her information on it. She wasn’t sure what to say but she wasn’t given a chance to as he whistled his way down the hall and out into the streets below. She watched as he slipped into the back of a waiting car and felt the frustration leave her body. He was driving her crazy and she didn’t even have a clue as to who he was. She smoothed down her skirt and made her way downstairs, careful to give him plenty of time to be safely away from the building before she had to run into him again.
Reed
He was still smiling as he watched the streets fly by. She was a beauty that one. All curves and hips, which he liked. He considered himself a connoisseur of women in many ways. There wasn’t a size or type he didn’t love to sample from time to time. It was a luxury he afforded himself, to the chagrin of his mother of course.
He was young still, 30 was nothing really. She was pushing him more and more to settle down but he was nowhere near ready for all of that. He was an uncle to his nephews, and that was plenty enough to keep him busy. No, the only woman he had enough time for these days was business, and that occupied most of his time. He glanced at his watch and frowned. He seemed to be late to everything lately, not quite able to do as much as he wanted. Wanted was a strong word really. He loved running the family business, loved being in charge. It had gotten him out of more than one dilemma, but he really wanted to get back out on the field, play some golf and work towards the Pro Am like he used to. It seemed those days were falling further and further behind him now.
He smiled to himself thinking about what she had said. Something important had kept him from getting there… In this case it had been a brunette named Nicole, and a lack of sleep. The prim and proper Miss Sinclair would have much to say if she knew the truth. He was still smiling when the car stopped out front of the high rise to the offices he now controlled. He gave a half smile to the ladies working the front office and watched as each of them blushed in return. Though he felt sure he could have his pick of any of them, he kept his private life far away from business. That is except for Lydia.
Even now he could hear her talking from her office as he moved down the hall and to his own. Whatever had set her off this time, he would be sure to know shortly. He watched her walk the long hall towards his office and thought long and hard about the mess they had made together over the years. Watching her walk reminded him exactly how he had been sucked in in the first place. She was perfect, at least on the surface. Her hair was red and was always pulled back to highlight the sharp angles of her face. Her body, though too slim for his tastes, was petite and nice. He had started working here after his father’s death 6 years ago, and she had helped him through it, in more ways than one. Over time it was obvious that it was a mutual entertainment for them both, neither wanted anything more than a physical release, and a string business partnership. Now, she was more often than not, always upset about one thing or another. She was also a good reminder as to why he hadn’t settled down yet.
He toyed with the card in his hand, smiling once more as he thought about Miss Sinclair. He had no doubt she was able to hold her own, most likely she was married, though he saw no ring. His thoughts were distracted as Lydia burst into his office.
“I can’t keep working like this Reed, this place is falling apart and I can’t hold it together much longer.” She crossed her arms, her face flushed as she tapped one of her heeled toes on the soft carpet lining his office floor.
“Lydia, must everything be so dramatic?” He sighed not once looking up at her as he asked.
“You know your attitude is part of the problem Reed.” She stopped her foot and this time he had no choice but to respond.
“What’s wrong now?” He glanced up, giving her some of his attention, though he was equally ignoring her.
“The staff, in a nutshell. These idiots are nothing more than go to people who can’t even get coffee done correctly. On top of that the McNeal account is missing and I need an assistant who actually shows up for work!”
He knew by the way she ran everything together, there was definitely some issues that needed to be addressed. He rubbed his eyes for a second and soon looked up at her once more.
“Ok Lydia, details. One thing at a time.”
W
ithin the hour he had been informed of every single infraction committed on the property, some of which seemed not worth mentioning. Just watching her get it all out seemed to help eliminate the menace of her tone. Soon, once he had addressed everything he found her smiling at him with the age old smile welcoming him to do far more than just talk to her. She stood, smoothing down her dress as she walked towards the door of his office.
“Come visit me tonight Reed, I think we both need a little release.” She walked out the door, not waiting on a response.
Some part of him reacted to her, he knew it was a real option, she never offered if she didn’t mean it. The other part of him knew to stay away. Getting tangled up in Lydia wouldn’t go well, not really. As the day went on he did his best to focus on work, and not think about Lydia’s offer. He grabbed his jacket at the end of the day and took the long strides towards the elevator, glancing around the now empty office. He knew it was going to be a long night.
She was waiting for him, almost as if she knew he would come. Her red hair now hung freely and he roughly pulled her into his arms. There was nothing sweet about his embrace, instead he was searching and demanding. She knew the way he thought, and she met him one stride at a time until they both were free of their clothing and on her bed.
He was once more struck by how put together she was. It was as if there wasn’t an inch of body fat on her, and though it left him wanting more he pushed on – kissing her body, teasing her nipples, pinching them one at a time, taking them hungrily into his mouth as his hands found her opening and then biting her neck, just the way she liked it! He worked her with his fingers first, and then his mouth and then his hardness pressed inside. He was rough and fast. She wanted it like that too. They knew each other’s bodies and needs so well.
An hour later they both lounged on the pillows, taking long deep breaths hoping to recover from the experience. There was no emotion between them aside from the release of tension. He watched her get dressed.