Chapter 3
THREE
I was running off three hours of sleep and adrenaline.
The private chef world didn’t play fair around the holidays, especially not when your name held weight.
I wasn’t even taking last-minute gigs anymore, but this one?
Ten extra bands for one night, first-class flight, and a driver waiting when I landed?
I’d be a damn fool to pass it up. Lucky didn’t say much when I told him, just kissed me on the cheek and packed my knife set like he always did, slid a note in the pocket that said go be great, I’ll hold it down here.
And he did.
I’d been moving nonstop since I stepped off the plane.
One of them black card clients with a high-rise view and a mouth that only liked five-star flavors.
I was in my zone though gloved up, silk press tied back under my chef’s hat, playlist low in my ear, and that heat rollin’ off the stove like a second skin.
Lobster risotto, seared lamb chops, garlic confit mashed potatoes, and a molten chocolate cake that had to come out the oven exactly nine minutes before serving.
Everything had to be perfect. Not just because the price tag said so. Because my name was on this. Jream Bleu. I didn’t work this hard to be playin’ with anybody’s palate.
I wiped the edge of the plate with a towel, adjusted the micro greens just so, then stepped back to breathe.
All five courses were plated, aligned, and covered to stay warm until service.
The kitchen smelled like butter and rosemary, but the tension in my shoulders wouldn’t let up until I saw empty plates and full stomachs.
The client walked in a few minutes later, their eyes wide at the spread. I gave my best soft smile, professional, polite. My body ached from standing all day, but my spirit stayed locked in.
Because when I do what I love? I don’t just cook. I create and tonight, I was building memories on a plate. Even if my heart was back home, missing Lucky’s arms, the babies’ giggles, and the way my name sounded sweeter when he said it in the dark.
The driver dropped me at the hotel around midnight. It was nice, high thread count sheets, sleek bathroom, mini fridge stocked with overpriced wine I wasn’t gon’ touch. But it wasn’t home. It wasn’t Lucky’s hoodie on the floor or my babies’ toys stuffed between couch cushions.
I let the hot water run until the mirror fogged over and the tension started to melt from my shoulders.
Every muscle ached, feet throbbing, and my lower back was screaming.
I wrapped a towel around my body, another around my hair, and stepped out barefoot onto the cool marble.
I didn’t even dry off all the way before I reached for my phone.
Lucky 1 Missed Call
Lucky :
Let me know when you done, baby.
My thumb didn’t hesitate.
He answered on the first ring, voice low and thick with sleep. “You good?”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “I’m better now.”
His camera flipped on. He was laid up in our bed, shirt off, gold chain catching the light from the nightstand lamp. Lucky Jr. was curled against his chest, pacifier in his mouth.
“I miss y’all,” I whispered, eyes stinging.
“You should. We fine as hell without you,” he teased, grin lazy. Then his tone softened. “You did it, mama. How you feelin’?”
“Tired. Sore. Kinda proud, though.”
“Hell yeah, you better be proud. Ten bands to make magic in somebody else’s kitchen? You a damn legend.”
I smiled for real then. “You just want me to come home and make risotto.”
“Nah.” He tilted his head, voice dropping. “I want you to come home and let me rub you down, run your bath, and eat somethin’ else with love in my chest.”
I blinked slow, lips curling. “Boy.”
“I miss you,” he murmured, all jokes gone now. “This bed cold without you. Jenie kept looking at the door. I haven’t even slept right.”
I swallowed hard. “I’ll be on the first flight out in the morning.”
“You better. That towel better be off by the time I get you back in this house.”
I bit my lip, warm all over. “You gon’ be up when I land?”
“I’ma be outside waitin’.”
And I believed him.
Even through the screen, I could feel the weight of his love. It wrapped around me like a second skin.
“Goodnight, lover boy.”
“Goodnight, my Jream.”