Chef Showdown_A Romance

by MJ Post

  Toby might have asked how she knew Boris was available to see him, but his best guess was that it was less random than it seemed. Given that he had recently met with Lou Morton, Boris had perhaps been previously booked to have dinner with one of the joint winners regardless of whom that might be.

  It took a moment for him to sort through the flood of feelings, but he knew what to say when his interview time came. “I’m stunned and thrilled,” he told Shelley. “I’m glad to get a win and be back in the hunt for a slot in the finals.”

  Shelley: “Are you surprised at the outcome?”

  Toby: “I think I was right to choose Chef Kamara as a partner. Considering she’s been putting amazing food on our plates for over a week, she was due some recognition on-camera.”

  Shelley: “You’re excited to see Chef Winfrey tonight?”

  Toby: “I could really use his advice about a lot of things. Yes, I’m very pleased.”

  ∞∞∞

  Toby and Boris sat down in the restaurant. Located in a hotel, it had bright overhead lights, a very Florida sort of décor, with open cabinets decorated with oversized wine glasses. They ordered black bass crudo and squid confit.

  “I’m surprised Nina allowed us to meet,” Toby said as he sipped a cocktail with a name so trendy he couldn’t remember it. “She was so angry when you showed up that she gave me two strikes in the same day.”

  “Holy Moses,” said Boris. “Now that’s a fine kettle of fish. Fine kettle of fish.”

  “And she said it was to teach me a lesson.”

  “She does love to teach people lessons. Taught me quite a few I wasn’t expecting. You know, my son, she was always a tough lady, but that wasn’t a bad thing, back in the day. To have a woman you can depend on to make the right choices can mean a lot to a busy man. Because when you’re back to back fighting, metaphorically speaking, you’re both winners. Uh huh.” He waved at the waiter. His julep had been drained. “Set me up with two more.”

  “Boris, slow down,” Toby suggested.

  “Special occasion,” said the great chef.

  Derrick threaded through the tables carrying a large still camera, pointed it. Toby and Boris raised their glasses at him, mirror reflections of each other.

  “Love it,” said Derrick. He introduced himself as the show’s AD.

  Boris looked quizzically at him.

  “AD means assistant director.”

  The chef nodded, then looked at Toby. “That’s my son there,” said Boris. “So I guess you would know, has old Nina been taking care of him? Seems like not.”

  “She’s about tough love,” said the AD.

  “Ha! She is that. Is that, yessir.”

  “She’s taking care of everyone, though,” Derrick added.

  “Everyone except me, that is.” Boris laughed raucously. “All but me, ha ha. Son, I tell you. You want a drink?”

  “I’m working,” said Derrick. “Rain check?”

  “You got it.” Boris pointed at him and cocked his head. “Now, scoot.”

  When the AD had gone, Toby said, “How about you slow down? You never used to drink them that fast.”

  “Oh, it’s hard. It is so very hard. Because Nina LeStrade was my baby, and now she hates me. I’d like to fix that up a little bit, but I can’t unsay what I said, or be places I wasn't. Don’t know, maybe we were just doomed.”

  “Because you were both too busy.”

  “That. Yes. That.” The two juleps he’d ordered were delivered.

  Toby reached across the table and seized one of the juleps. “No, you don’t.”

  “That’s dirty pool, son.”

  After a moment’s thought, Toby grabbed the other, put both out of easy reach. “Let’s actually talk. What do you say?”

  Boris looked at him watery-eyed.

  “Are you drunk all the time?”

  “Of course not. Just seeing Nina brought this up for me. I came up here to the devil’s own city for career reasons, just like you. Time to make some moves. Running a restaurant in Oxford has grown stale, and the financials have, so to say, lost their luster. I want a gig better suited for a melancholy man.”

  “Like what? Seriously, TV?”

  “Son, I’ve been on TV at least once a week since the 80s. Behind these eyes is the brain of a master showman.”

  “I know, but…”

  “I’ll still need a restaurant. ‘Course I will. Only just not in Oxford.”

  Their appetizers arrived. Boris appeared to improve as he ate. His eyes livened, and he smiled more.

  “I’m supposed to help you,” he said to Toby through a mouthful of crudo. “And instead you’ve been hearing my sorrows. Tell me about that beautiful girl of yours.”

  “Kacie. Yes, it’s new.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Smart. Tough. Moody. She has a great heart, but she’s been hurt a few times, I guess.”

  “But you really like her.”

  “Nobody’s easy in culinary. She’s special.”

  “She likes you, too?”

  “Hope so. She said so. Like I said, it’s all new. I could lose her, probably. But she said -- Shit, Boris. I don’t know who else to talk to about this.”

  “Son, you and I have each other and that’s just about it. Lay it on me.”

  “She said -- don’t repeat this -- she wants me to be her first.”

  Boris reached across the table for a julep, but Toby blocked his hand, and he chuckled. “Oh, my, my.”

  “When I was with Amanda, she already had a child. I’ve never been with a virgin. You must have.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course.”

  “Strange to admit this, but I’m worried. I’ve heard the first time is never that great for a woman. I want Kacie to be happy about her first time. But how do I do that?”

  “Oh, son.” Boris smiled. “Pass me one of those juleps. Dinner’s coming.”

  Toby slid the drink across the table. Their entrees were arriving, a rare guinea hen entrée for Toby and a Wagyu steak for Boris. Of course, they almost immediately tasted each other’s; it was a habit Boris had had since childhood.

  “Now, do you wish me to be anatomically specific?” Boris asked at last.

  “No need. I know how the parts work.”

  “Okay, then. For a man, of course, just as you remember, you are very excited about losing your virginity, but then it goes by so fast you can scarcely recall it after. True?”

  “I remember Amanda asked for a ride home, and I packed some crawdads in a container to take home for Lillian, and I didn’t figure on Amanda asking me in, so when she did, I just left the food in my car. I thought I’d be on the road in a few minutes. The food stank up my car overnight.”

  “Sure, you remember that part. But do you remember putting your dick in her that first time?”

  “Well, I did that a lot, so…”

  “But you figure for a young lady, that first time is some permanent thing, all burned into her memory, that leaves you to be judged forever?”

  “Well, maybe.”

  “Well, maybe. But Toby, listen. I’m not a woman, but I tend to think that’s mostly true if she’s with you just once. Kacie’s a smart girl, you said?”

  “Yeah. She got into engineering school, but she didn’t go.”

  “If she’s a smart girl, she probably knows the first time isn’t great. What you do, my son, is keep making love, over and over.”

  Toby noticed Derrick was shooting photographs of them from a respectful distance, and took a modest bite of fowl, then turned toward the camera and offered a winning smile.

  “How does that help?” he asked Boris.

  “A smart girl knows the first time has its problems. Your plan should be to make her happy with you overall. Give her the attention she needs to think of you well as a man. The heart’s a muscle. Give it a workout and it gets stronger. Make her love you by being good to her over time, you understand?”

  Toby did, but he asked, “So do I sa
y, ‘Listen, the first time won’t be great,’ and explain?”

  “I wouldn’t. Toby, Amanda was with you how long?”

  “About six months. Maybe not quite that long.”

  “And she was in it just for the sex?”

  “She didn’t like to sleep alone, mostly.”

  “Huh. Me either, but I do. Point is -- if she stayed with you so long, you must be all right. Your thing with Kacie, is it about sex?”

  “No, it’s about… I mean, yeah, she’s very hot and I want her. But it’s about -- I don’t know, I admire her. I like being around her.”

  “You’re in love with her.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “So be about that. Give her your love and your attention, and come sex, just find your rhythm.”

  They ate for a while. Derrick took closer photos and was finally persuaded to depart with Boris’ other julep. Two desserts, a brown butter and rye pudding and a citrusy panna cotta, were brought. Toby and Boris halved each and put half on each other’s plates. Another server came with two café lattes.

  “You know the Aretha Franklin song, don’t you, Toby? ‘Respect’?”

  “Sure. It’s on the radio a lot.”

  “What’s it about? Tell me?”

  “It’s about, uh, that she wants her man to treat her right, to have respect for her. She wants the relationship to be more equal.”

  “No, son. That’s not it.”

  “Wrong song?”

  “Right song, but people don’t get it. Toby, that song is about sex.”

  “No. No way.”

  “Trust me. Ask anyone in my generation. Some of the lyrics fit what you said, what most people think it is. But some don’t. You see, back in the day, you couldn’t talk about sex directly in songs. You had to sort of get at it sideways. Let me spin you an alternative version. She’s staying home, he’s going to work. He comes home tired, eats dinner and goes to bed. She’s bored and wants to get laid. He’s too tired. He kisses her, just to let her know he’s there, but then he hits the sack. And she’s lying there horny and pissed.”

  “I don't get it. That doesn’t fit.”

  “His kisses are like honey. And so is her money.”

  “So she works, she earns money. She deserves respect for that.”

  “In the original, the Otis Redding song, the man was saying that. But Aretha’s version is different. Her money is her pussy. It’s all code. She gives him all her money means that he gets exclusive rights to her pussy, she won’t spread it around. And he needs to give her her propers when he gets home. I know that sounds like being polite to most folks, but actually it means he needs to give her some action. He needs to fuck her, son, even if he’s tired. Why? ‘Cause your woman is not your mother, and she’s not just your extra pillow to curl up with. You’re supposed to fuck your woman when she wants it.”

  “And how do you know she wants it?”

  “You have to learn your woman. See, issue with me and Nina was certainly about personal respect. It wasn’t just about me not showing up when there was a schedule conflict. That wasn’t the main place I didn’t show up. I didn’t show up in the bedroom. And Nina took that as a sign I was feeling jealous or competitive. Don’t know, maybe it was that. Didn’t think so at the time, but a man doesn’t always know his mind.”

  Toby had never felt at ease thinking about his mentor in sexual terms, Nina even less so. In hindsight, though, he could recall their being highly flirtatious as a new couple and giving that up entirely as time passed.

  “Why are you telling me this, Boris? Are you working out things in your mind?”

  “Mostly it’s worked out already. I’m saying this by way of advice. If a woman is going to be your woman, you shouldn’t be afraid to make love to her. You make love to your woman, it’s not using her. It’s not violating her. She’s not a flower. You can’t break her or wear her out. Your woman who chooses you -- you give her everything. Everything.”

  Toby wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I will,” he said.

  They sipped coffee. Then Boris said, “Let’s get down to business. What do you say?”

  “Anything you want to talk about.”

  “All that talk about women is making me melancholy. Now business is simpler. New York real estate is a little pricey for me, but finding investors isn’t the hardest thing for a man with a James Beard Award. We can also look at New Orleans or Atlanta. I get set up for TV here, put a new restaurant into operation. You’re my equal partner and you run it for me.”

  “I don’t have that kind of money, Boris.”

  “I didn’t ask for money. I asked you to run it for me. You’ll be valuable enough like that. Understand the plan. You know the way I like a restaurant to run. You can maintain my standards and keep the money coming in. I’m just there part time, so I can say it’s mine, and that’s my platform for TV. Then, time comes, you buy me out and it’s yours.”

  Toby’s stomach, stuffed with food and agitated by coffee, almost emptied on the spot. “I need to… I mean, this is a lot to think about. I could mess it up. This much money on the line? I can’t do that myself. You taught me a lot, but I don’t know if I can handle it.”

  “We’ll work it out, Toby. Work it out. Listen, you have a lot else on your mind. You have the show, you have your girl. There’s time. Not much, but there’s time.”

  “I came to New York with my truck, with Lillian. That’s my plan, to run the truck and take care of Light. This is much bigger. I have to think about it.”

  “Think about it,” said Boris. “We’ll take another meeting when the show’s done.”

  MADAME QUEEN’S CHEF SHOWDOWN

  DAY 9

  Winner: Alia and Toby

  Strike Two: Toby, Maryann, Louie, Vegas

  Strike One: Buster, Eloise, Kacie

  No strikes yet: Alia

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Yookyung!”

  Louie lost the ingredient challenge to Vegas when his Jerusalem artichoke dish had too gluey a texture. Then Madame Queen threatened Vegas with strike three because she said his dish, though tasty, had given her a digestive complaint.

  When the women had all retired to the dormitory room, Maryann took the first shower, and Alia sat on her bed and looked frankly at Kacie. “I haven’t been thinking about what might happen if Louie gets eliminated before I do,” she said. “But I guess I need to.” She leaned forward, elbows on her thighs.

  “That doesn’t stop you guys from being a couple,” Kacie said.

  “Yeah, I know, but it doesn’t help, either.”

  “Well, it’s not as if you guys have a strategy that requires either of you to win,” Eloise offered. “So he gets eliminated, then you do, so what?”

  “I’m not planning to get eliminated,” Alia snapped.

  “Well, you know I’m not,” said Eloise. “Look, I don’t want to be insensitive. You guys can be fine as a couple. The only thing is to have a plan about what you’ll do when it’s over. Have a council of war or something.”

  “Did you talk about it?” Kacie asked. “About when it’s over?”

  “He has to go back to Cleveland pretty quickly,” Alia said. “His dad is running the restaurant while he’s gone, but his dad isn’t in the best health. Louie said he’ll look for work in Manhattan, but the competition is pretty fierce here. I don’t want Louie to take a step down in job quality, or walk away from his family, just because he’s interested in me.”

  “Of course not,” Kacie said. “I wouldn’t want Toby to do that either, but he’s just planning to grow slowly with his food truck, not look for a job.”

  “That’s your plan?” asked Eloise. “A food truck? Did you guys actually talk about that?”

  “We want to see who wins first,” Kacie bluffed. They hadn’t talked about it. Damn Eloise and her big mouth.

  “I think I should break up with him,” Alia said. “Maryann is right. Men in love do crazy things. I need to protect him from ruining his care
er for me.”

  “But you’re in love with him too, right?” Kacie asked.

  Alia shook her head. “I just… He’s a nice guy. He’s good company. But there’s just no spark for me.”

  Eloise had changed into her robe and put a towel over her shoulder. Evidently she was going to stand by the bathroom door to be sure of the next shower. “I think it’s damned if you do, damned if you don’t. If you break it off with him, that may upset him so much he loses anyway. Better to let the thing run its course.”

  Later, in the shower, Kacie thought about the commitment she had made to Toby, to be his girlfriend and call him her man. They had decided to be together regardless of the outcome of the show. Soon they would make love. Alia had a good man available to her and was deciding she didn’t want him — or was that just fear of change? Kacie didn’t want her love affair to turn out like that.

  She toweled off, put on the sweat pants and t-shirt she slept in, went out to the hall to dump her soiled uniform for the cleaners to pick up. Back in the room, only her bedside light was on. Maryann was sacked out; Eloise was lying awake, eyes open, staring at the wall. No sign of Alia. Kacie went out to the common-room, heard the sound of voices there, stopped out of sight inside the doorway.

  “Why not?” Louie asked.

  “Because I can’t give you what you deserve,” Alia answered.

  “But if you think I deserve it, why can’t you?”

  “Because there’s something wrong with me.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that shit before. What is it, that I’m fat? Or that I’m white?”

  Kacie leaned against the wall. It was a bad idea to keep listening, but she did anyway.

  “It just doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “It’s right. Give me more time to win you over. I know it’s right. After the show, let me fly you out to Cleveland, and we’ll hang out with my folks and my sister. You’ll see how my family welcomes you. It won’t feel so strange.”

  “I have to get back to my restaurant,” Alia said.

  “One weekend. One three-day weekend.”