by Ellerbe, Lyn
“I think he should change his name.” Anger in her voice, Rori’s good nature had finally been pushed to the limit.
“To what?” Jessica realized her roommate was finally showing some of the same righteous anger that she herself felt at his mistreatment of her roommate. “Sir Frowns a Lot?”
“That’s a good one,” Rori giggled, “but I think Chef Charming fits him better.”
Jessica’s laugh turned the head of fellow students and earned her a scowl from the chef, but she didn’t mind. Chef Charming and Sleeping Beauty she thought, perfect match.
The rest of the class was a blur. Chef demonstrated the tricky mixing, pouring, and cooking of the crepes. All the stations had struggles and there were plenty of groans and laughter the rest of the evening. Even Chef seemed to lighten up a little bit. Jessica made Rori do the crepes. Jess had worked in a French restaurant during her culinary arts internship, so it was a skill she had already perfected.
Each station had to get approval of the chef before plating and tasting their masterpieces. The class shared their recipes and tasted each other’s creations. They had all chosen various combinations of the ingredients for the filling. Jessica’s favorite was a chicken and broccoli Alfredo variation made by one of the pair of graduate students at the neighboring table. The young man was quite handsome, so Rori teased her.
“The crepe was probably inedible,” she teased, “but the cook is scrumptious, right?” Neither coed realized Chef Marcus MacRae had overheard their banter. He was fully aware that they were talking about John Liu, the young man whose station adjoined theirs.
Marcus had seen the two girls flirt outrageously with the young man. Not that it mattered to me, he told himself. He was a professor and they are students, so their relationships are none of my business. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he was actually very interested in the relationships of one of them. Chef Marcus spent the rest of the evening in bad humor.
“Tomorrow night we will be exploring the world of spices,” Chef spoke over the noise of the clearing of their stations. The students stacked their dirty utensils and cutlery on the designated station. Each team was to take a turn washing and storing all the equipment away at the end of class.
“We will be doing this through a series of rice dishes. Rice is an ingredient common to many, many cultures and it will give us a perfect palate for exploring. I need a volunteer to come in early to start several pots of rice so we have enough to begin class. Please see me afterwards if you are free to do so.”
The chef stood at the door and handed out the vocabulary assignments as the students left. Rori hopped into the line to take advantage of this opportunity. She courageously planned to volunteer for the rice assignment. Her studio and the after school program were all in this building so it was no problem for her to come in half an hour early. With her major art show on Saturday night, she would welcome the excuse to get out of the studio. Plus, maybe this would win her back some points with Chef Charming.
“I can come in early to do the rice,” Rori told him as she took the assignment papers. “I’m here in the building all day anyway, so it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Fine.” Chef accepted her offer but seemed perturbed. “Be here at six o’clock.”
Rori’s conscience could not find rest. At one o’clock in the morning she rolled out of bed, turned on her computer and pulled out the information page from the cooking class while she waiting for it to power up.
Do it before you lose your nerve, she told herself.
Dear Chef MacRae: I want to apologize for causing problems in class tonight. I will try to get my act together and be better prepared tomorrow. Please forgive me. ~Aurora Sinclair
She hit send and crawled back into bed.
Spice and Rice
The next evening at precisely the required time, Rori burst through the door.
“I’m not late am I?” She had been caught up in one of her final paintings and had lost track of the time. She didn’t even have time to change out of her painting clothes.
Marcus looked up from his notes. The fairy woman standing before him caused his heart to miss a beat. Long blond hair spilled over her shoulders. Tattered overalls splattered with paint covered a baby blue tank top. She even had paint on her elbow and cheek. He reacted in self-defense.
“Pushing punctuality to the line, aren’t we?” Hearing his own voice, he knew it was harsh but he couldn’t seem to help himself.
Marcus had unwillingly admitted to himself that for some bizarre reason he was drawn to this strange young woman. If he was going to survive these next twelve days, he had to make sure she did not suspect his attraction. He had complained about her last night to his friend, fellow professor, and confidant, Jake Hampton. Jake had reminded him that there was no restriction on relationships between adjunct professors and graduate students, but Marcus still did not want to go down that road. He was in his faith and knew that he could never have a relationship with someone who did not share his values. He had no idea what this magical being’s belief system involved. He had even complained to Jake that he had doubts that she was even of this world.
“You have it bad, my friend,” Jake had laughed. “I may have to come by your class tonight to see this creature.”
Marcus laughed wryly to himself imagining what Jake would think of her if he saw her right now. She definitely was not the delicate being he had described from last night. Still he marveled that someone could make baggy paint-splattered overalls and disheveled hair look so enticing. He vowed to keep his distance tonight.
He pointed her to the pantry supplies and began pulling out the necessary cooking pots.
“You do know how to make simple white rice, correct?” Marcus asked her. He felt a pang of guilt as he saw her wince at his biting comment.
“Yes.” She nodded, trying to guard herself from his jabs. “How much do you need and do you want me to put any seasoning in it?” She normally put salt in the water when she made simple rice dishes for herself.
“Put a half a teaspoon of salt per four cups of water in each pot. That is less than normally added, but we will be adding a lot of different spices to all of it.”
He moved back to his papers, trying desperately to dismiss her presence. Why did I ever agree to let her come in early?
“Lord, help me here!” He sent up what his high school youth pastor had called a ‘Flare Prayer.’ Marcus knew that he should have spent more time spiritually preparing for this battle before class, but now he was desperate.
In answer to his anxious plea, Marcus heard Chef Jake Hampton’s familiar whistle.
“Thank you, Lord,” Marcus breathed, unaware that Jake was already standing behind him.
“No, it’s just me,” Jake quipped. “Although some of my students do think I have superpowers.” Marcus ignored his friend’s terrible attempt at humor, but appreciated God’s timely rescue.
“So, is that the fairy princess?” Jake nodded toward the station where Aurora was preparing the rice. “She’s not dressed quite like I’d expect from Sleeping Beauty.”
“Yes, but keep your voice down,” Marcus said. He admired and loved his friend but his clowning around was not appreciated tonight.
The two had attended the same culinary institute and both had graduated four years ago. Chef Hampton had immediately been hired as an assistant professor when the culinary arts program at the college began the following fall. Marcus had taken a position as an executive chef at an upscale ski resort. The friends had stayed in touch, though, and when this adjunct professor position opened, Jake encouraged Marcus to apply. As the program at the college gained popularity, he knew that it was likely that the temporary position would turn into a permanent one. He was thrilled to have his friend here.
“She looks harmless to me,” Jake said, but he could only see the back of her head as she was filling the pots with water before setting them to boil. “I wouldn’t have thought the big bad wolf was
afraid of Goldilocks.”
“You’re mixing up your fairy tales atrociously,” Marcus pointed out.
“Rori!” Jake exclaimed as the young lady turned around. He crossed the room and greeted one of his favorite church friends with a big hug.
“You know her?” Marcus gaped at his friend who proceeded to help Rori move the large pots onto the burners. Jealousy not just for the relationship, but also for the display of casual affection, swept over Marcus.
“Rori and I are old friends from church,” Jake explained to his flabbergasted friend. Rori nodded and smiled at her chef instructor. Maybe having a mutual friend will help him get out of his bad mood, she thought.
“Plus she is Zoe’s favorite teacher at preschool,” Chef Jake continued. Rori rolled her eyes as he added, “Rarely does a day go by that Aunt War-ee isn’t a topic of excited conversation at our house.” The proud father purposely mispronouncing the young teacher’s name just as his four-year-old daughter did.
“I love Zoe,” Rori admitted to mutual affection and grinned. “She’s a gem. Must take after Carla.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Jake retorted, inwardly admitting his wife was the main reason they had such a delightful little girl. “So I see you got roped into sous chef duties tonight. What did you do wrong to deserve having to spend more time with Chef Grumpy here?”
Rori was amazed at the natural teasing and obvious kinship between the two friends, although Chef Marcus did seem uncomfortable being the center of attention.
“Oh, no,” she said, trying to fix the damage Jake was unknowingly doing. “I volunteered. I practically live in the building anyway, so it was logical for me to help out.” She hoped she sounded calm and nonchalant. Her feelings were anything but indifferent but knew she could not let these two men know it.
“After I get these boiling, is there anything else I can do?” she asked. “Do you want me to stay and guard the pots, or can I go change clothes? I was trying to finish up a layer on one of my paintings and didn’t want to be late so I didn’t get to change.”
“No, you have to stay,” Marcus replied instantaneously. “Sorry, part of the job.” Jake raised his eyebrow, suspicious about his friend’s motives. They would definitely talk later.
“That’s okay,” Rori agreed, pinning a syrupy sweet smile on. “I’m here to do your bidding.” If he was going to make this hard, she was not going to help him out in any way. She would be so agreeable that any criticism of her would seem mean and petty.
Jake barely covered up a guffaw as he saw Marcus pale. This is going to be fun, Marcus’s traitorous best friend thought.
Thankfully, Jessica picked that moment to arrive. She had purposely left work early so she could be there for Rori as she braved the lion’s den, as Rori had termed the food lab. The auburn hair and ruddy complexion Marcus had inherited from his Scottish ancestors lent itself to the imagery. Jessica suspected that Aurora Sinclair was slightly, if not more than slightly, infatuated with this tall handsome chef.
“Did I miss anything?” Jess whispered to Rori who was patiently watching the pots begin to bubble, ready with the uncooked rice.
“Nope.” The one word answer conveying volumes to Rori’s friend.
“That bad, huh?” Jess put her backpack away and slipped on her chef’s coat.
“Yup,” came another one-word response.
Jess pulled Rori’s chef coat from the hook at their station, urging her to put it on. Obviously, she had been too distracted when she got here to remember it. Jess was surprised that Chef had left the gaffe slip. Although her experience with him had shown his kinder, gentler side, after last night she thought that his mood in this class would be different.
“Thanks,” Rori mumbled as Jess handed her the coat. The culinary department provided inexpensive coats for the students to rent, finding it lent them an air of professionalism. Of course, Jess had her own more expensive one. Rori teasingly called her a culinary snob.
“Wow,” Jess was now beginning to be concerned. “Three one-word answers. He has you rattled, doesn’t he? And don’t just say, ‘Yes,’ or I’ll bop you!”
Rori grinned as her natural optimism won out. “Ok, how about, ‘yes, he does.’ Is that better?”
The friends both glanced at the door as Chef Hampton finished giving his friendly advice. Trying to appear stern, but still finding the situation hilarious, Jake had to duck as he left the room, barely missing the hard sesame roll Marcus had playfully launched at him.
“Get out of here. I can handle this on my own.” Rori heard the cryptic remark Marcus made to his friend.
“Sure,” Jake called through the open door, picking up the pastry and tossing it back to Marcus. “Let me know how that works out, will you?”
As Marcus turned around, he saw Rori watching him. Hopefully she did not know that she was the topic of conversation.
Slightly embarrassed at having appeared to be eavesdropping, Rori blushed and tried to look busy, cleaning up an already spotless station. She wished she could keep her art area this neat. It never failed, though, as the best-laid plans dissolved into chaos when an inspiration hit her and she struggled to get it on canvas as fast as she could. Sometimes it was hours later before she realized she had created total pandemonium out of her orderly intentions.
As the rest of the class filed in, Chef MacRae called them to his station.
“Tonight we are going to explore the different spice profiles common in cuisines from around the world,” he explained. “Each pair of you will choose one of the spice profiles to highlight. The baskets on the side table have the necessary ingredients, recipes, and a description of the region’s cuisine. Since Miss Sinclair so graciously came early to prepare our rice, she and Miss Johnston will be allowed to choose their cuisine first. Ladies.”
“Let’s get Moroccan,” Jess suggested as they stood before the table. Rori had no opinion on the matter, still smarting over the inflection in Chef’s voice when he said, graciously. She wondered if she had imagined it or if the rest of the class knew he had it out for her.
“Fine.” Rori shrugged and helped gather their supplies.
Great, thought Jess. One word again. This was going to be a long night.
“Thank you, John and Calvin,” Chef nodded to the two young men at the station next to Rori and Jess. They were the last pair to share their dish as the class time was approaching an end. Chef MacRae had asked each group to give feedback to their classmates. John and Calvin’s Mexican rice dish was a big hit with the class so far. Rori and Jessica were the only partners who had not given a critique yet.
“We’re next,” Jess whispered. “I’ll take it, if you want.”
“Yes, please,” Rori’s heart was pounding at the thought of having to speak coherently under the ominous stare of Chef Marcus.
“And, you, Miss Sinclair?” Of course, Chef did not let her off the hook, turning to her with his intense green-eyed stare. “Do you have anything to add?”
“It was yummy?” Rori answered, eliciting laughs from the rest of the class.
“Perhaps you could enlighten us as to exactly what you considered ‘Yummy’ if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Chef insisted. This woman infuriated him and fascinated him at the same time. He was sure she knew he was not happy with her, yet she turned it into a joke. It was going to be a long two weeks.
Rori jumped as Jess pinched her and whispered, “Behave!”
“I liked how the dish was rich and hearty without being too spicy,” Rori offered, her statement almost a question.
“Very good,” Chef moved back to the center of the lab, almost dismissing her comment.
“Tomorrow we will be further exploring these regions through stews and other dishes,” Chef said, preparing to dismiss class. “We will be reviewing knife skills and you will also have your first quiz on the safety sheet and culinary terms. Please come prepared.”
-------------------------
She had not seen his response to last ni
ght’s email until after the second class.
Dear Miss Sinclair: Thank you for your apology, though it was unnecessary. I hope you enjoy the class. ~Marcus
She could not possibly read into those few words the battle that had ranged within Marcus over his response. He literally had written and deleted over twenty attempts. His first was along the lines of: I think I am losing my mind. When you walk in the room, I turn in to an unrecognizable monster. You are the bane of my existence but I can’t imagine coming to class tomorrow and not having you there. Thankfully, he had not sent that one, but opted instead for a safer, indifferent message.
She was checking her mail in the studio, having returned to finish cleaning up. Jessica was going to get coffee with John and Calvin, their neighbors in class. They promised to return to walk Rori back to the apartment.
Rori was surprised that he had even responded, but for some reason was disappointed at the stoicism conveyed in it. She was not arrogant, but was not used to people disliking her. I guess I just rub him the wrong way, she thought. Still not willing to let him continue in his total dislike of her, she typed a quick response to his email:
Deaf Chef, I am enjoying the class and learning a lot. Thank you for letting me help with the rice tonight. I hope, too, that Chef Hampton doesn’t tell you any ludicrous stories about me. He, Carla, and I had a crazy experience at one of our Bible study outings last fall. My part in the antics is quite embarrassing to recall but I’m sure Jake will make them sound worse than they really were. ~Aurora
The new mail notice beeped loudly. He must have been sitting at his computer, because his response was almost immediate.
Dear Miss Sinclair, I am glad you are not letting my bad moods affect your learning experience. I will be sure to pick Jake’s brain about your ‘antics’. And outside of class, it’s Marcus, not Chef. ~Just Marcus