by Lucy Kevin
At the very least, he was going to get to the bottom of Julie’s cooking. She had the technical skill. She obviously had the palate when it came to balancing flavors. She had a good knack for presentation, and the ability to manage several dishes at once…all the individual ingredients necessary for her to be so much more as a chef.
Andrew knew as well as anyone that ingredients alone weren’t enough. It was what someone did with them that truly mattered.
His phone rang again, and this time, Andrew excused himself to pick it up.
“Don’t you pick up your phone anymore?” his assistant demanded.
“Did the lighting guys decide they needed my permission before they changed the shade of filter on the main spotlights again?” Andrew countered. “Come on, Sandy, you can handle that.”
“Sure, I could handle that, no problem. But we really need you back at the studio.”
“You know I’m dealing with my brother’s wedding preparations. It’s my wedding gift to him.”
“And I still think you’re crazy for agreeing to it. You could have just given him a vase and told Phil to take care of his own wedding. Or I could tell him for you. Because, frankly, you have enough to do right now without taking on extra projects.”
Andrew couldn’t help a small smile at his assistant’s protective streak. “You know I could fire you, right?”
“Yay. Then someone else can have all those endless conversations with our producer about exactly why the frozen food he ordered wasn’t good enough.”
She had a point there. Andrew had to put his foot down somewhere, though. “Look, I don’t need to be on set for the show until this afternoon, so—”
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” his assistant shot back. “The idiots have changed the filming schedule. They say they sent an email, but I never got it. Anyway, they wanted you on set twenty minutes ago.”
Andrew normally wouldn’t let the studio jerk him around like this, but if he wanted his new show to get off the ground on the right foot, he was going to have to cut his time at the Rose Chalet short.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get going,” he said to Rose as he hung up.
“You are planning to come back, aren’t you?” Rose asked. “To go through the menu again and talk about the flowers? There’s such a lot to decide on.”
Andrew thought about Julie Delgado once more. Cooking was so personal, so connected. The pressure of the kitchen was relentless, but there was also magic to it.
There was nothing like food for getting to know everything about people...and nothing like feeding someone–and being fed–for getting closer to someone.
“Yes,” he said in answer to Rose’s question, “I’m definitely planning to come back.”
Chapter Four
Julie cleaned up the dining room, carefully stacking the plates and putting them in the dishwasher, each movement precisely controlled. She was not going to end up breaking a plate on top of everything else.
And she was definitely not going to wallow in thoughts about Andrew Kyle.
Admittedly, that was easier said than done. There were those dimples, for one thing. Not to mention the way he had just come in there and high-handedly dismissed Julie’s best efforts like they were nothing, exactly the same way he’d dismissed her restaurant. Julie had put out her best efforts there, too, and Andrew hadn’t even bothered to come up with a better word than bland to describe them.
Who did he think he was?
A successful celebrity chef, obviously, but other than that? Where did he get off, taking apart her carefully-thought-through menu in front of Rose, so that now Julie would have to work twice as hard to convince her temporary boss that she was the right choice to deal with the Rose Chalet’s catering on a permanent basis?
Julie’s best guess was that Andrew enjoyed the power of it. He could make or break careers. What an ego trip that had to be. Julie couldn’t believe the casual way Andrew had suggested that he should come in and ‘help’ her. In other words, “stand over her, criticizing everything she did.”
Unfortunately, she knew the type, only too well. Men who were impossibly sure of themselves—utterly certain that all they had to do was snap their fingers and women would come running. It was one of the main reasons Julie didn’t date these days.
On the other hand, after she took a few deep breaths, Julie had to admit that wasn’t precisely the impression she'd gotten from Andrew while he was critiquing her wedding menu.
In truth, he’d seemed like a pretty nice guy. Serious about food, but not nasty. Or a jerk.
Yes, well, she reminded herself, people sometimes weren’t what they seemed. Julie had learned that lesson more than once. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of trusting a man who had already played a major part in ruining her life once.
“Hi Julie.”
Julie spun around and found Phoebe, the Rose Chalet’s florist looking as elegantly beautiful as ever in a dark dress and heels. Her hair was perfect in a way that made Julie, after a few hours in a hot kitchen, feel distinctly self-conscious about how frizzy hers must be.
“What are you doing in here?”
She hadn’t meant to snap at Phoebe, but the pretty woman just smiled and asked, “Rough day?”
“Sorry,” Julie said, “it’s just this guy…”
She snapped her lips shut, knowing if Rose walked in and found her badmouthing the groom’s brother, she’d be booted off the Rose Chalet property.
Phoebe was a lot more laid back about life than Rose was, but they were still at work, and there were some things that Julie simply didn’t want dogging her here. But it seemed that she’d already said enough, because Phoebe reached out to put a reassuring hand on her arm.
“You shouldn’t let some guy get you so upset,” Phoebe said. “No guy is worth that.”
Julie agreed that if Andrew were anyone else, if he didn’t happen to be one of the greatest chefs in the city, if she hadn’t had a couple of the best meals she’d ever treated herself to in his restaurants in the past five years, his complete dismissal of her cooking skills wouldn’t hurt as much.
What a loser he must think she was. Not just because of her failed restaurant, but because she’d let him run roughshod over her food, not once, but twice!
I’m not a loser, she thought as she tossed a metal pan into the sink and it made a satisfyingly loud clanging noise. But he doesn’t know that, does he?
All at once, it hit Julie precisely why she’d been feeling so low since he’d left. Not because she didn’t think she was up to the task of putting on a great meal for his brother’s wedding...but because she hadn’t stood up for herself. In any way, shape or form.
It was one thing to be a loser with a failed restaurant.
It was another to be a coward, too.
Phoebe stared worriedly at her. “Julie?”
“If Rose asks where I am, could you let her know I had a very important errand to run?”
“Of course I can,” Phoebe responded, “but are you sure you’re okay?”
Julie gave the only answer she could let herself believe. “I will be.”
Yanking off her apron, she hurried out to the Rose Chalet’s parking lot just in time to see Andrew climbing into a silver Porsche convertible and pulling out. She leapt into her aunt’s car and set off after him.
On the open road, Julie would never have been able to keep up. After all, Andrew’s car was a speedy, nimble sports car, while her Aunt’s old Volvo had been designed more for fitting the maximum amount of groceries in the trunk. As Andrew wove between lanes on wider sections of road, darted in and out of traffic, ran through lights just as they were turning to red, and took corners in a way that would probably have gotten him arrested had there been any police around, Julie had to use all her focus just to keep from getting in an accident as she tailed him.
Refusing to be bested by Andrew as he turned a very tight corner, she placed her hand firmly on the horn by way of a warn
ing and drove through a couple of gaps in the traffic that the average bike would have been hard pressed to get through, making it only because the drivers around her steered out of the way.
By this point, Julie could still see Andrew’s car, but it was way off in the distance. So when his Porsche made another turn, she took her very next right, hoping it might just put her ahead of him, and it certainly couldn’t make anything worse.
Or maybe it could.
Julie slammed on the brakes just as the cars coming towards her did, before throwing her aunt’s car into reverse as they started to blare their horns. She scooted down lower behind the steering wheel, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.
Who went and put a one way street there?
That wasn’t the important thing right then, though. Neither was getting out of there before things got any worse, or taking the time to hope that the ground would open up and swallow her.
The only thing that mattered was the fact that she could no longer see Andrew’s car.
He was gone.
Any other day, Julie would have given up. But, she was starting to realize, there came a point when you had to keep doing the monumentally stupid thing you were doing, if only because, without some payoff at the end, it meant you were simply acting monumentally stupid for no reason.
That might be good enough for plenty of reality shows, but it wasn’t good enough for her.
Driving more carefully, she headed in the direction she had seen Andrew go, hoping for some faint glimpse of the Porsche. Five minutes later, she finally spotted what she was looking for: his fancy car was parked outside a large building that looked as if someone had just dumped a load of concrete down at random with a large sign that read Cuisine Channel Studios.
Julie drove into the lot and stepped out of her car, though as she did so she could feel her nerves rising up. What exactly was she going to say once she got in there? If only she’d been able to work that out during her drive rather than devoting her attention to barely making it to the studio in one piece.
A security guard walked up and asked, “Do you need some help, ma’am?”
Julie decided to try the truth. “I’m here to see Andrew Kyle.”
“Another one who didn’t get the message about them starting the filming early, huh?” The security guard pointed toward the building. “I just saw him head inside a minute or two back. The studio’s on the second floor.”
Julie didn’t bother trying to decipher what he meant by not getting the message about filming as she headed on up. Nobody tried to stop her, if only because everybody Julie passed seemed to be incredibly busy. Two men were arguing over a frighteningly tangled collection of wires. Others were running around with cups of coffee and stacks of papers clutched in their hands. Everyone looked terribly stressed out.
On a day like today, Julie felt like she fit right in.
Was Andrew Kyle the center of all this, she wondered? If so, it went a long way to explaining why he thought he could behave like an arrogant, pig-headed jerk.
With so many people running around on his behalf, he probably thought he could do anything he wanted.
Julie was certainly going to enjoy informing him otherwise...assuming that she could find him, that was.
The entrance to the studios on the second floor was being guarded by a bulky stage hand who made Julie wait a couple of minutes before letting her in. The chaos outside had been bad enough, but this was, if anything, even worse. There was a kitchen set up in the middle of a small circle of cameras, wires, and spotlights. Facing the stage kitchen was the audience. Every seat was full. No one was filming at the moment, mostly because several staff members seemed to be too busy arguing.
In the middle of it all, exactly where Julie had known he would be, stood Andrew. He was leaning against one of the kitchen surfaces, apparently deep in thought.
She started toward him, but found her way barred by a young woman with fire engine red hair and multiple piercings who was holding a clipboard.
“Sorry,” the woman said, in the tones of someone who’d had practically everyone in the room try her patience at some point that day, “we don’t allow audience members on set. If you’ll go back to your seat, please, there will be a quick meet-and-greet with Andrew after taping.”
“I’m not an audience member. I’m Julie Delgado and I’ve been set up to do some cooking with Andrew, only—”
“Wait a minute, you’re cooking with him?” The young woman looked puzzled as she rooted through the sheaf of papers attached to her clipboard, then shot a gaggle of arguing figures a glare that suggested they should probably be glad she didn’t have any weaponry close at hand. “I can’t believe the producer is trying to put something else in at this late stage. I’ve told them, we’re not putting up with any more of this.”
“No,” Julie tried to explain, “it was all Andrew’s idea. He—”
“Andrew put in a new segment? Without even mentioning it to me? Wait here, please, I need to have a little chat with him.”
Julie was more than a little surprised when Andrew smiled and waved her over a minute later. As she headed toward him, she reminded herself to remain firm in the face of his dimples...and despite how happy he looked to see her. Why on earth would he be happy to see her?
Julie psyched herself up to let Andrew know in no uncertain terms that while she was committed to her work at the Rose Chalet, he couldn’t walk all over her. But before she could say a word to him, a voice from somewhere outside that circle of oh-so-bright lights hollered, “Okay everybody, let’s go for a take!”
Chapter Five
Before Julie could protest that she shouldn’t be on stage, Andrew was in full flow, talking to the nearest camera with the ease that came with doing television day in and day out.
“Hello and welcome to Edgy Eats. I’m Andrew Kyle and today I’m joined by local chef, Julie Delgado, who will be helping me make my take on the classic quiche.”
She would? Since when?
Julie knew it was long past time to speak up, but when she looked around and saw that she was trapped in that broad circle of spotlights, the protest died on her suddenly-dry lips.
“Classic recipes are great for cooking good food at home, but I’ve always believed it’s important to do more than just repeat the same old things, to experiment with your food and make it your own. Don’t you agree, Julie?”
Had he asked her that to try to throw her?
Deciding she wouldn’t be that easily cowed, she countered, “I’ve always believed that classic recipes are classic for a reason.”
Andrew laughed, turning slightly to address the studio audience. “I can see that I’m going to have my work cut out trying to convert Julie to my way of thinking.” He gave her a look that couldn’t be interpreted as anything but fond before turning back to the crowd. “What do you all say? Should we have a cook-off?”
As his challenging words got the inevitable burst of approval from an audience primed to respond with glee to whatever he said, Julie gritted her teeth. She’d come here to clear the air between them, and stand up for herself while she was at it–not to get pulled into a battle of the cooks with him. Not only was dragging her into his show like this not playing fair, but it was just typical of a guy like him to do it without even asking.
Julie was tempted to walk off and leave him hanging there, if only to see what his precious audience would do then.
But she already knew what would happen. The audience would blame her. She would be the one who wouldn’t go along with the “fun” and would end up being branded a “difficult character” that poor Andrew had to deal with. His show, meanwhile, would likely end up clipping along nicely without her, so it wouldn’t actually achieve anything.
Except making Andrew think even less of her for backing away from his challenge.
No, Julie wasn’t going to let him win like that. Instead, she forced her best made-for-TV smile.
“Sure,” she
replied. “I’m up for the challenge.”
Andrew looked extremely pleased that she’d gone along with it. Well, they’d see how pleased he was soon.
“We’ll each make one quiche according to our own recipes and my viewers will get a good sense of the difference between the traditional recipe and a more modern take on it.”
Without waiting for him to tell her to begin, Julie reached for the ingredients.
Quiche. Such a simple thing to make. Eggs, pastry crust, cheese, half-and-half, heavy cream, and some simple filling ingredients like bacon and vegetables. It was all very easy. Far too easy for Andrew Kyle to ever do it that way, of course, which presumably explained why there were so many extra ingredients available on the kitchen bench. There was a full selection of herbs and spices and some unusual fruits and vegetables.
Julie concentrated on the recipe she knew. No distractions, that was the way.
Except...she should have known that Andrew wasn’t going to let things be that simple.
“So, Julie,” he said, just as she was trying to remember how much nutmeg she liked to put in for flavor, “what is your approach going to be based on today?”
“I’m going to do it properly,” Julie said. “Classic, time-tested recipes might not be very fashionable right now, but sometimes it is the best way to do things.”
“It’s not about what’s fashionable,” Andrew retorted, taking a handful of celeriac and mashing it up with some potatoes. “It’s about the world of cooking moving forward. We can sit in the past, or we can innovate.”
“Again,” she said in her calmest voice, “the reason classic dishes are classics is because people know good food when they taste it and share those recipes with others who agree with them.”
Andrew smiled back at her, and then over at the audience. “Wanting to make people happy with your food doesn’t mean you have to close yourself off from experimentation, does it, Julie?”
She decided to ignore his way-too-pointed question so that she could concentrate on getting the consistency of her pastry just right. With any luck, Andrew would have to concentrate on explaining to the audience how he was putting together his ingredients and would forget about her for a while.