by Kailin Gow
HEAT
Master Chef: HEAT Serial
VOL. 2
Kailin Gow
HEAT (HEAT: Vol 2)
Published by Kailin Gow Books
And theEDGEbooks.com
Copyright © 2014 Kailin Gow
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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DEDICATION
To My Readers, Betas, and Kailin Krusaders, Thank You for All Your Love, Support, and Encouragement. You are truly one of the most important reasons why I’m blessed beyond measure.
Prologue
Lilly
I was older. I was in a position of authority. I was responsible for my students. I was his mentor.
I, and I alone, should have known better. I should have put a stop to it, but I didn’t and now we were both going to face the consequences.
Shaken and silent, we walked to Monsieur Franchine’s office and held our breaths as Bobby knocked on the door.
“Oui,” came the sharp, biting invitation.
Bobby opened the door and walked in, but when I followed him in, Monsieur Franchine glared at me.
“I’ll see Monsieur Cummings first.”
“Monsieur Monsieur Franchines, please let me explain. It is completely my…”
“I’ll deal with you and your responsibility in all this after I’ve spoken to Monsieur Cummings. Please shut the door.”
I knew there was nothing I could say, but I wanted desperately to protect Bobby. “Monsieur .”
“Out.”
Shaken, I backed out the office, closed the door, but stood close by, my ear pressed to the hard oak.
Monsieur Franchines’s voice was hard and uncompromising, and though I couldn’t make out many words, the tone of the conversation was loud and clear. Our sexual rendezvous was an unpardonable act.
For a full twenty minutes, Bobby was berated, reprimanded and scolded. But then came the word I hadn’t really expected to hear.
Expulsion.
No. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t expel him. Bobby was such a talented cook with so much potential. Monsieur Franchines couldn’t ruin his future like this. It would also be such a great loss to the institute.
I heard Bobby let out a pain-filled cry and then the angry scrape of a chair against the hardwood floor.
“You can’t do this,” Bobby said.
“You're free to bring it up with the board if you so choose, but I assure you, the result will be the same.”
“I’ll tell Errol King.”
“Go ahead. In this situation there is little he can do. Even the mighty Errol King has limited powers in cases just as this. You stepped out of line, Monsieur Cummings, way out of line. I suggest you take a little more time to consider your actions in the future. Let this be a lesson that stays with you for a long time. A moment of carnal pleasure is a hefty price to pay for a soiled future. I hope she was worth it.”
I wanted to gag. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to die. How could I ever look Bobby in the eye again?
“Monsieur Franchines,” Bobby said in a low, dejected voice.
I had to press my ear tighter to the door.
“Surely you remember what it was like to be young and a little out of control. I meant no harm. Things just got a little out of hand.”
“I did some foolish things as a young man. Yes, I was once young and I understand the urges of the human body and the difficulty we sometimes face in controlling those urges, but, not only did you satisfy your urges with a member of the faculty, an act already difficult to overlook, but you chose to satisfy that urge right here in the school… right in her office.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. You had a lot of promise and we all had high hopes for you. Perhaps a semester or two of growing up and maturing will do you some good. Come back then and we could re-evaluate your… aptitudes. Maybe we’ll take you back again.”
“A semester or two?”
“Do you think you’ll need a little more time than that?”
“No! Tomorrow. I’ll be ready tomorrow. Now. Just sitting here with you has slapped the immaturity out of me. Believe me, if you give me another chance, I won’t let you down.”
“Come back in a semester or two.”
Bobby grunted in defeat.
“If that turns out to be sufficient for you to…” Monsieur Franchines cleared his throat. “… to gain control of yourself, we’ll talk then.”
“But, I have a scholarship.”
“As of now, it is officially revoked.”
Tears came to my eyes as my world continued to crash down around me. He couldn’t revoke Bobby’s scholarship. I was certain of it.
“You have an hour to clean out your dorm room and leave the premises.”
“I have to leave today?”
“You have to leave in the next hour.”
The office fell silent then I heard the click of the doorknob and stepped aside as the door peeled back.
Ashen and bewildered, Bobby walked out, his head low and his eyes unable to meet mine. He closed the door behind him. “Monsieur Franchines wants you to wait a minute before going in.”
“Bobby, I heard what he said. I’m so sorry. I’ll do everything I can to change his mind. I’ll take full responsibility. I’m the one who should’ve put a stop to it. He knows how talented you are and I’m sure he doesn’t really want to lose you. I’ll talk him into seeing what a mistake it would be to let you go.”
He shrugged and I just wanted to pull him into my arms and tell him everything was going to be all right.
“Mademoiselle Cooke,” Monsieur Franchines bellowed from behind the closed door.
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Biting nervously on the corner of my bottom lip, I opened the door and walked into his office. With a grunt and a tilt of his head he directed me to sit down across from him.
“I take it you’ve been listening to my conversation with Monsieur Cummings.”
“I heard a bit of it here and there, yes.”
“Then you know he is not to return to the institute for at least a semester or two, and that he has lost his scholarship.”
“Monsieur Franchines, I don’t take what we did lightly. I fully aware of the severity of our actions.”
“Are you?”
“Please don’t ruin his life, his career over such a foolish act. Punish me. I’m the one responsible.”
He nodded and an irritated smirk curved his lips. “Not only were you his teacher, Mademoiselle Cooke, but I specifically trusted you to look after him. I specifically selected you to mentor him. Do you know how it makes me feel to see just how mistaken I was to entrust that responsibility to you? Do you know how it makes me look? Other teachers were proposed for this mentorship program, teachers with more experience, more maturity, but I fought for you. I argued that you were the ideal candidate.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I have no doubt you are sorry, but that doesn’t change anything. That doesn’t change what you did.”
“Please, Monsieur , as a member of the faculty, as one of his teachers who knows what a talented and hard working young man he is, I’m begging you; could you not overlook this one indiscretion? This incident aside,
he’s been an exemplary student.”
“Mademoiselle Cooke.” His voice was so grave, my heart sank. “I’m sorry, but as of this day, you are no longer a member of the faculty.”
I gasped, or grunted, or groaned. Either way, some strange and unrecognizable sound came from me and I had no words.
“Please clear out your office and any personals you may have left in your class.”
“But…” I was speechless. This couldn’t be happening.
“For the time being, you’ll continue to work in the lab, but your time here at the institute is to be strictly restricted to the lab and only the lab. You are to have no interactions with any of members of the faculty except me and, of course, you are to have no contact whatsoever with any student.”
I started to weep. It was all too much. Everything, positively everything I’d ever worked for was slipping through my fingers. “Please,” I blubbered.
“Count yourself lucky, mademoiselle. The only reason I’ve decided to keep you on at the lab at all is your remarkable talent. We have too much invested in you, in your work at the lab to throw it all away now. Maybe, as time goes on, you’ll be able to redeem yourself.”
I continued to weep and he simply sat back and cast his gaze to the door.
The meeting was over.
Swiping the tears from my cheeks, I took a moment to collect myself before standing and walking out of his office.
“How did it go?” Bobby said. “Were you able to clear things up?”
I shook my head. The words wouldn’t come. Teary-eyed, I just looked at him.
“What happened?”
“He fired me.”
“He can’t do that, can he?”
“I broke the most important rule.”
The door to the office opened, startling us. Monsieur Franchines came out and glared at both of us.
“Very disappointing indeed. Our star pupil and our first mentor in a new program we’d hoped would be fruitful.” His gaze traveled over us with disgust. “But not quite fruitful in the way you took it to mean.”
Dumbfounded, we stared at him. At the very back of my mind, I held onto the slightest possibility he’d had a change of heart, that he realized what a loss we both were to the institute.
“I suggest you not wait until I call security to escort you out,” he warned. “That could prove embarrassing.” He directed his gaze at Bobby. “I would hope you’d wish to limit the disgrace you’ve already brought to the Cummings name, not to mention the blemish that you are on Errol King’s good standing.”
With that he left us.
“Come with me to New York,” Bobby quickly said.
“You’re going back to New York?”
“I can’t stay here. Please, come with me.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. Monsieur Franchines fired me as a teacher, but he wants to keep me on at the lab.”
He nodded. “That’s good.” He was already gone. His eyes were glazed over and I knew he couldn’t even see me. “At least you’ll have that.”
I looked up at him, wanting to say so much. Looking past his shoulder I spotted one of the blue uniformed security guards rounding the corner.
It was over.
Chapter 1
3 Months Later
January was particularly cold in Paris that year. We’d seen unexpected snowfall and the thermometer seemed to constantly hover over the freezing point. The cold, drab days of winter reflected well how I felt inside. Cold, empty, lonely.
Staring out the window of my dingy little apartment in the 19th arrondissement, I once again found myself scanning the streets below hoping to see Bobby. I knew it was impossible. I knew he was back in New York, but still, my heart ached to find him among the Parisians who strolled the streets below.
I finished my coffee and dressed for work; another long day alone at the lab. Another day of not talking to anyone. Another day of avoiding everyone, namely Taryn and Errol. I couldn’t bear the thought of facing them. How they must hate me. I’d already had a few close calls. A few days earlier I’d seen Taryn in the distance talking to one of the teachers Bobby had had. She looked up at me, but before she could even take a step toward me, I turned on my heel and disappeared down the hall.
How long was I going to go on like this?
Penance. I had to pay for my mistakes.
Yes. I was getting exactly what I deserved. I’d strayed, strayed far, far off the righteous path I’d carved out for myself. And now I had to pay.
But the cost of my isolation was wearing me down and wearing me out. The endless days of commuting to the institute, locking myself in the lab to work all day, then commuting back only to spend my nights busying myself with tedious housekeeping chores had become a blur.
The one bright light I’d had in the past months was the development of a rich and creamy sauce that was as voluptuous as any made with heavy cream and butter, but it, in fact, had been made with skim milk. With ninety calories less for each cup, it was both satisfying to the palate and easy on the hips.
But that bright light had quickly been extinguished. I’d hope to present it to the board, but Monsieur Franchines had simply taken a sample jar of the sauce and my notes, and had met the board himself.
I was shunned.
On the bus ride to the institute, I readied myself for another long day alone, and after four hours of blending, mixing, measuring and jotting down notes of every more I made, I slithered out of the lab and headed down to the vending machine for a cup of coffee.
“How ‘bout a real lunch?”
I jumped and turned around, dropping my coins in the process. As they rolled away I looked at Taryn. “Coffee is fine,” I blurted out. I bent down to chase and pick up my coins, hoping she’d be gone by the time I stood again.
No such luck. She stood there, her eyes surprisingly compassionate and kind. Not really what I had expected.
“Come on. I think we need to get some real food in there.” She took me by the arm and guided me out onto the street where she turned left and then entered a small café nearby. “I’ll order. You go sit down.”
While she waited in line, I sat at a table by the front window and stared out at the street. Maybe she had some news on Bobby.
She arrived at the table five minutes later with a steaming bowl of thick vegetable soup, some thickly sliced crusty bread and two cups of coffee. “Eat up.”
“Thanks, but I’m really not hungry.”
“Not hungry? Honey, you're emaciated. When’s the last time you’ve had a full meal? Solid food?”
I shrugged. I couldn’t really remember. For the most part the only food I’d eaten in the past weeks was the sauce I’d tested.
“Your heart may be telling you you're not hungry, but your body is showing just how your heart has deprived you of nourishment. Ironic for someone who spends so much time working to make food better.” She pushed the bowl of soup to me. “You need to eat. Please.”
After everything I’d done to Bobby, I couldn’t bring myself to accept her charity.
“I’m not letting you go until that bowl is empty.” Her smile was broad and genuine. No one would have ever thought me responsible for the expulsion of her brother.
“Okay.” I sipped a few spoonfuls. The soup was good; good and hot. Inspiring even. Already I was thinking of a special soup I could make that I was sure would sell well.
“Have you spoken to Bobby since he’s left?” she asked.
I shook my head and continued to sip my soup.
“I happen to know he’s tried repeatedly to reach you. He’s tried calling, has sent you messages. Don’t you want to talk to him?”
It wasn’t a surprise. The first few days he’d called virtually every hour, but I ignored each call. They dwindled down to a few every day, then once or twice a week and finally, since the holidays, he’d only called once.
“Lilly, Bobby is heartbroken, but he’s not angry with you. He doesn’t blame you. In fact, he blames himsel
f.”
“We were both in that office,” I said plainly.
“Why do you insist on beating yourself up about this?”
I looked at her as if she were a little stupid. Her gaze remained sharp and frank, and I softened my stance. “I was his mentor. Did he tell you that?”
“Yes, but do you really think you're the first mentor to stumble and fall for a protégé? I assure you, there’s a very long line of teachers, professors and mentors who weren’t able to resist the temptation of their subordinate.” She smiled a knowing smile.
“I guess.”
“I have to ask you; do you love him?”
“I thought I did. I don’t know.” I concentrated on the soup then looked up at her. “I’m not sure I really know what love is.”
Taryn nodded. “Bobby told me you grew up in a convent. You had a pretty sheltered life, didn’t you?”
“Very sheltered.”
“I imagine the only love you know is that of Jesus; of your Lord.”
“You could say that.”
She chuckled. “That’s a pretty hard show to follow.”
I smiled for the first time since bumping into her. Actually it was the first smile in a very long time.
“Had you ever kissed a boy before?”
I shook my head. “I know it must sound ridiculous. A twenty year old who’s never been kissed.”
“Twenty?” Astonished, she looked at me. “You're only twenty years old?”
“Do I really look that much older?” Instinctively, I brought my hands to my cheeks and ran my fingers up to my temples.
“Of course not. It’s just… Well, there aren’t many twenty year old teachers at the institute, never mind twenty year old mentors. And you work at the lab? When and where did you learn so much so fast?”
“The convent was very serious when it came to teaching us useful lessons. Food is just about the most important thing in life, after Christ of course. We had a garden, a vast garden and rows of fruit trees, and we learned to tend to the food from the seed we planted in the earth to the finished product we set on a plate. We were taught that food should connect with every sensory aspect of dining. It should smell divine, look appetizing, be texturally interesting and the flavors should explode in the diner’s mouth.”