Master Chef

by Danielle Berggren

  He turned and mirrored my position against the counter facing me. His muscles bulged a little as he did so and I had to look away from his body, but his face was even more distracting. He smiled, “What would you like?”

  “Whatever you’re making will be fine, I’m sure.” I paused, “Um, would you like any help?”

  “No,” he said simply. He stared at me for a time, and there seemed to be a question in his gorgeous hazel eyes, but whatever it was he did not speak it. He pushed up, muscles contracting, and started to work on breakfast.

  I drummed my fingers on the counter for a time and tried not to watch him. If he was a master in the kitchen of Le Poisson d’Azur, he was even more of one in his own home. He was not as rushed here, but his movements were no less graceful and shirtless he was a wonder to behold. It brought back some memories of the dream that still held my libido captive.

  I think Ethan knew exactly what sort of effect his body would have on any red-blooded American woman, too. He seemed to pause as he stretched, and there was an awareness in his movements.

  He wants me to look at him.

  I shook my head and cleared my throat, “Is it okay for me to go in there and grab a glass of water, or are you territorial about your kitchen?”

  Ethan laughed, “I’ll get you some water. Yes, I’m afraid I haven’t been very good about sharing my kitchen with anyone.” His eyes met mine. “I can make you some fresh-squeezed orange juice if you would like.”

  I shook my head again. “No thanks, water will be fine.”

  He got me a glass and slid it to me across the bars counter. “Here you go.”

  We fell into silence for a while. He sliced off a few very thick slices of cured pork belly and began to fry them. I memorized his movements. It reminded me a little of when I went to culinary school and I would watch the Chef de Cuisine at work there. I remember one of them telling me that with enough time and experience, I could be one of them. It was the best compliment I’ve ever received.

  “I like your tattoo,” I said after a while. “When did you get it done?”

  “Five years ago,” he said. “And thank you.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s the Leanan Sidhe. My grandmother, she and her family lived in Ireland as far back as anyone can trace. She used to tell me stories about the Sidhe and the other Celtic legends and gods. The Leanan Sidhe was a sort of demon. Though that label only applied after Catholicism spread through Ireland. She was a kind of muse, only she would devour the artists after they died from lack of her touch.”

  My eyes widened, “And why would you get one tattooed on your back?”

  He smiled at me over his heated skillet. “Creating good food is like an art, don’t you think?” He shrugged. “I just loved the stories, and the sketch that my artist created when I recounted them to her.”

  “Well, it’s a beautiful piece. Do you have any others?”

  He looked up at me, two eggs balanced in one large hand. “Why, Ms. Delaware, do you wish me to undress for you?”

  I blushed and looked away. “That’s not what I meant.”

  He laughed. “No, I don’t have any others, nor do I plan to.” He cracked the eggs next to the frying pork. “This one was almost twenty hours under the needle. I think that was enough for one lifetime, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t know, I don’t have any.”

  He gave me a considering look. “I had wondered.”

  Why would you wonder if I had any tattoos? I didn’t ask the question though I wanted to. I had never seen Ethan Craymore so relaxed, so easy in his own skin. Never noticed until now how tense he was when he was running the kitchen. Here he moved with an easy, almost predatory grace, and his face had none of the hard lines they so often did when he was ripping someone a new one. He smiled quick and easy. He was used to the motion.

  I thought about what he had said about his grandmother. I had never thought of Chef Craymore having any family, nonetheless family he actually liked. “Are you still close to your grandmother?”

  He nodded, “Yes. She practically raised me. She lives in Virginia now. If everything works out with d’Azur, I’ll bring here out here. It’s why I bought multiple bedrooms.”

  “That’s very considerate of you. So many people just shove their grandparents in nursing homes and have done with it.”

  His face fell into the all-too-familiar work scowl. “I would never do that to her.” He glanced up at me, “And you? What of your family?”

  I shrugged. “My mom’s parents died before I was born, and my dad skipped out on us before I was a year old, so I don’t know about his side.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It was a long time ago. I don’t even remember him. Hell, I don’t even know what he looked like.” I waved my hand to banish that particular line of conversation. “What about you? Where are your parents?”

  “They died,” he said. “Boating accident when my brother and I were teenagers.”

  Brother? “I’m sorry.”

  He smiled and reached out a hand, brushing it against mine. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago.”

  My hand tingled from where he had touched me. I didn’t move it away. I had the insane desire to go around the bar and pull him to me, to kiss away the tightness I saw at the corner of his eyes that countered his casual words.

  Ethan finished the eggs and slid them on separate plates along with a slice of bacon. He pulled a bowl of cut fruit from the fridge and spooned it into two separate, smaller bowls. He slid one toward me and set another beside me. My heartbeat quickened when I realized that he would sit so close. Of course he’s going to sit down to eat, you ninny. This is his condo.

  He finished setting up the breakfast and then grabbed two cloth napkins and some silverware. He shoved these toward me informally, and I grasped the cloth and placed it on my lap. When he came around and sat beside me, I could feel my neck and cheeks begin to warm. Stop it, Veronica, I told myself. Get a hold of yourself. This is your boss and the man you pledged to hate for all eternity. Stop ogling him.

  It was damned hard not to ogle someone who was, A., shirtless and, B., your ideal physical type. Plus, he had shown himself not to be a complete ass, at least not while at home. And I think he’s been flirting with me. He did sort of offer to take his pants off. I shook off the thought and dug in.

  I had only just finished a half of the egg when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Ethan said. “Please, continue.”

  I paused anyway, fork halfway to my mouth, and watched Ethan move across the room to the front door. He had a beautiful... well, everything.

  When he opened the door he said, “Good morning, officer.”

  I slid off the stool, throwing my napkin down on the counter, and stood out of sight of the doorway.

  “Good morning, Mr. Craymore. I’m sorry to bother you this early, but in the police report last night, it was stated that Veronica Delaware would be staying here, and I have to speak to her on an urgent matter.”

  I stepped around Ethan, my arm brushing his as I did so, skin against skin. The contact sent an almost static-like electric spark coursing up my arm and left gooseflesh in its wake. I folded my arms across my stomach and looked at the officer, a young-looking man with short red hair and freckles. “I’m Veronica Delaware. Can I help you?”

  The officer tipped his hat at me, “Ma’am. Perhaps we should speak inside?”

  “Yes, of course, come in,” Ethan said, opening the door wider and stepping back.

  I moved aside to let the officer pass before followed him into the living room. The officer saw our breakfast and cleared his throat, “I’m sorry for interrupting your meal, but we needed to inform Ms. Delaware of an incident at her place of residence.”

  I realized that the policeman was addressing Ethan more than me and frowned, moving to stand between the two of them. “What about my condo?”

  The man cleared his throat again and pull
ed a little at his collar. “Ma’am, maybe you’ll want to sit down?”

  I shook my head, my heart beginning to pound. “Could you just tell me?”

  He sighed, then pulled a notebook from his front pocket and flipped it open to a middle page. “At approximately four-fifteen this morning, the fire alarm in your building was tripped. When the fire department arrived on the scene, your condo and almost everything in it was consumed in the blaze.” He looked up at me. I felt like something was squeezing my throat. “There were no casualties. Your building was built with cinderblock walls between the units, so the fire did not spread much beyond your home. There was a bit of smoke damage in the hall and along the exterior wall, but the Fire Marshall says it looks like it can be rebuilt.”

  I swallowed hard and swayed a bit on my feet. Ethan’s hand came up from behind me and cupped my elbow, steadying me. “Wait, what—how did it happen?”

  “The fire department still needs to conduct a full investigation, but at this time we believe it to be arson. The field test kit came back positive for propellants.” He hesitated, his eyes wavering between Ethan and me. “Ma’am, I saw that there was an incident last night involving you and Mr. Craymore here outside your place of work. I have to ask, do you have any enemies that you know of? Anyone who would wish you harm?”

  I shook my head, “No.” I let out a little bark of laughter. “Actually, Mr. Craymore asked me just that last night. I’ll tell you what I told him, I have few enough friends and no enemies that I can think of. I don’t know—” I paused. “Wait. The guy last night, he said he would get you back,” I turned to Ethan. “He said he would see us soon. They got my purse. Maybe they thought we lived together and torched my place, thinking it was yours?”

  Ethan looked down at me, his expression unreadable. I felt his fingers tighten minutely on my elbow and I shivered a little. “That may be something,” he said, his voice low and soft. He looked at the policeman. “Officer, we can be down at the station in the next hour to give a statement and bring you any information we have. Would it be alright to wait until then to talk to Ms. Delaware? This may need a moment to process.”

  “Of course, of course,” the officer said quickly. “Just make sure you come soon. We want to catch the people who did this. We take arson quite seriously.”

  “As seriously as you take assault?” I asked, my voice harsh despite my best effort.

  Ethan placed his other hand on my shoulder and squeezed, “It’s alright, Veronica.” To the policeman he added, “I’m sorry, officer. We’ll be there. Just give us a little while.”

  The officer tipped his cap to us again and let himself out. I watched him go and when the door had closed behind him, sagged against Ethan’s chest. The hand that had been at my elbow wrapped around my waist, holding me up. “Jesus Christ,” I said, my voice shaking. “Jesus fucking Christ. Is this really happening?”

  He led me to the couch and sat me down, his hands strong and helpful. He brushed my hair back from my face and retrieved my glass of water, bringing it to me and saying, his voice calm and soothing, “Drink. You need it.”

  I did as he said and handed the glass back to him almost drained. He set it on the coffee table and knelt before me. I had my elbows on my knees, my head hanging down. He touched my chin. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “You weren’t in there when the fire started. If it was those thugs from last night, I doubt they checked to see if the condo was empty before they started the fire. But you’re alive. You’ll be fine.”

  I laughed, “I had just bought that stupid range, too.” I shook my head and looked up at him, “What if I had a cat or a dog? They would have killed a defenseless animal, wouldn’t they?” My eyes unfocused, as I realized everything that had been lost, “Shit. My clothes, my books... everything. God, I had some of my family’s recipes in there.” I looked at him, “Do you think they could save anything?”

  “We won’t know until after their investigation is complete or after we’ve talked to the police down at the station.” He grasped my hand, his fingers curling around mine, and squeezed. “You’ll get through this.”

  I stared at him for a while, his actions and mine slowly sinking in. Hell, I had fallen into his arms. What the hell was wrong with me? “Why are you so nice?”

  He smiled, “Because it’s easy to be nice to you.”

  I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted by a ringing phone. He didn’t twitch and I laughed, pulling my hand out of his, “You should get that. It may be our boss. He must have realized what happened outside the restaurant by now and he’s probably frantic.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  I nodded, “I’m sure.”

  He rose and went to retrieve his phone from the kitchen. He answered with a brief, “Hello,” and then there was a pause. “Hold on. Yes. Calm down. She’s fine.” He came back, his pace brisk compared to how it had been, and held his phone out to me. “It’s Fiona. She heard about the fire.”

  I took the phone and pressed it to my ear. “Fiona?”

  “Oh my god! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I smiled a little and laughed. “I wasn’t in the condo when it was on fire.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  I explained everything to her, starting with the events after she left the night before and ending with the policeman who had just left. Ethan refilled my water while I talked and set it next to me before standing near enough that he could be helpful, but far enough away that he gave me privacy.

  Fiona listened without a word of interjection and then screamed into my ear. “You’re at his condo? Veronica, what the hell?!”

  I glanced up at Ethan. His eyebrows were up. He had heard her. “Um, yes,” I said, and chuckled. “Jesus, Fiona, he could hear you even though you’re not on speaker. Keep your voice down.”

  “Shit,” she said with feeling. “Sorry.” A pause, “Oh, God, Veronica... what are you going to do?”

  “Well, I have to go down to the station, file a stolen card report with all my credit card companies, inform my bank... and my home owners insurance, I suppose. Do they cover arson?”

  “They better, or I’ll kick their ass.” She sighed. “Shit, hon.”

  “It’s going to be okay. It’s like Chef Craymore said, I wasn’t in the condo when it caught fire. It’s just stuff that’s gone. I can replace it.” I sighed, “Listen, can I stay with you until this mess is sorted out?” There was a long enough pause that I asked, “Fiona? Are you still there?”

  I heard her sigh over the line like static. “I’m an asshole.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry, Veronica, I would if I could, but Kevin has, I found out, not been paying his rent and he’s crashed on my couch. Plus my family is coming over for their pre-holidays vacation today, and now they have to sleep on an air mattress on the floor. There’s just no room.”

  “I could bunk with you.”

  Another pause, “Actually...”

  I groaned, “Oh, God, Fiona, please tell me you’re not back with Henry again.”

  “No! No,” she said again with feeling. “His name is George, and he’s... actually, he’s very nice. Way nice. I haven’t said anything because, as I stated earlier, I’m an asshole. I didn’t want to jinx it.”

  “How long have you been seeing him?”

  “Um... seven months? Eight. Eight months. His lease was up and I offered to let him move in with me.” She sighed, “He just finished unpacking two days ago. I was going to wait until we had a day off, invite you over, and then introduce you. He’s a good guy.”

  I sighed and rubbed my forehead where a headache was starting to form, “Jesus, Fiona. You and your superstition. I’m sure introducing me to your boyfriend would have been fine.”

  “Okay, I’m not pointing fingers or anything, but every single guy who I’ve introduced you to broke it off within forty-eight hours. I think you’re cursed.”

  I laughed. It was an old joke bet
ween us, but she seemed to think there was some truth to it. Then again, Fiona thought horoscopes were real and one should never walk under ladders or open an umbrella indoors for fear of bad luck. “Okay. I’ll work something out. I’ll find a hotel or something until I can figure out what I’m going to do with the housing situation.”

  “Sounds good. Keep me posted.”

  “I will. And thank you for calling, I appreciate it.”

  We said our good-byes and I handed the phone back to Ethan. He placed it on the coffee table. “It looks like you’re going to be a house guest of mine for a little longer then, eh?”

  “No. I’m going to get a withdrawal from my bank and get a hotel room. I appreciate it, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He gave me a searching look, “Why not?”

  I glanced up at him, half-naked and scrumptious. Am I just imagining things? No. He did tease me about getting naked, and last night... last night, I could have sworn he was going to kiss me. “Um... I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” I cleared my throat and added, “You know... work.”

  He laughed. “If you say so.” He motioned at the breakfast bar, “Do you want to finish your meal before we go down to the station, or are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. I think finding out I’ve lost all my possessions has ruined my appetite.”

  “Well then, I suggest we get dressed and head down to the precinct. I’ll get my keys.”

  I nodded and went to the laundry room, where I removed my warm clothes from the dryer, and dressed in the guest bedroom. It was odd wearing my kitchen uniform when it was too early to go into work, but it was better than wearing Ethan’s clothing. It was comfortable enough to sleep in, but he was much larger than me and they fit like, well, pajamas.

  My mind went to the image of him moving around the kitchen shirtless, and a flash of need curled through my body. It nearly staggered me, and I had to lean my hand against the wall. “Jesus,” I whispered to myself. “I need to get out of here.”

  If I didn’t get out of the condo and away from him, who knew what might happen?