Chapter 3
Adriana
Oh, shit, I thought as I noticed how red Nolan’s face was getting. I glanced down at the bowl of sauce in his hand. It didn’t look ruined to me. Then again, I wasn’t a chef. There was still a chance that Nolan was overreacting, though.
“It should be fine, shouldn’t it? A minute of extra stirring won’t make that much of a difference,” I pointed out carefully, watching how his jaw twitched and his brows furrowed. I instantly realized that I had very much said the wrong thing entirely.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Nolan said tightly, and there was a sudden silence that hung across the kitchen. Everyone who had been running around was now staring at us with wide eyes.
My mind started running at a million miles a minute. If the sauce truly was ruined, then we didn’t have much time to remake it. I needed to fix this, and to do that, I had to be confident in my decisions. I glanced over at the counter, where the ingredients for the sauce still stood.
“Okay, well, then we should get it made fast, right?” I said, stepping closer to the counter and reaching for the thyme.
Unfortunately, my fingers managed to brush against it without actually gripping onto it, and it toppled over. The lid popped off as it did so, sending thyme flying everywhere. The silence became even more intense, and Nolan completely froze, as if he simply could not believe what he was witnessing.
“It’s fine,” I said, barely managing to keep my voice from shaking. “I’ll just get that cleaned up. Why don’t you start mixing? We can’t stand around like this. They’ll be here soon.”
People began moving again at this point, maybe to avoid getting in Nolan’s way, or to avoid getting screamed at.
But at least it triggered Nolan to look away from me.
He handed the ruined sauce to the closest assistant and someone else gave him a clean bowl while he shook his head and muttered under his breath.
I needed to find a broom to get my mess cleaned up before it caused more issues.
Turning on the spot sent me crashing right into one of the sous chefs, who was carrying a new container of thyme toward Nolan.
The container fell, but I managed to catch it just before it hit the ground.
I twisted and put it on the counter in a flourishing move, pretending as if the whole thing was going exactly according to plan.
“Thank you,” I said to the sous chef, who had raised an eyebrow at me and simply walked off to get to her next task.
I weaved through all of the people in the kitchen to get to the broom closet, which was harder to find than it should have been. Most of the cupboards looked exactly alike, and I wondered how everyone seemed to know instinctively where everything was anyway.
When I finally found what I’d been looking for, there was some hope.
I could be helpful, and we could get things done before an absolute disaster happened.
I made my way back to where the mess was, while trying to avoid running into anyone else.
Twice I managed to bump my shoulder against someone, and I got scathing looks.
But I kept my focus on the task at hand.
No matter what, I was going to fix this.
Nolan ignored me as I started sweeping thyme up from the floor. I managed to get most of it, though the spot would’ve needed another go-over once the issue had been settled.
Then I picked up the container with a confident smile, and placed the lid back on.
“See? No problem,” I said to Nolan, who turned to face me. “We’ve got this under control.”
Almost dancing with the broom and dustpan in my hand, I swung to walk away.
Unfortunately, the thyme in the dustpan wasn’t in the mood to stay put with such a triumphant movement, and some of it managed to fly in Nolan’s direction.
A sprinkle got into his fresh bowl of sauce, and I could have sworn that he was vibrating with fury at that moment.
Someone quickly grabbed the broom and dustpan from me, and my heart fell to my feet.
“You need to get out of my kitchen,” Nolan said in a low, dangerous tone.
“Get out,” Nolan interrupted with a sharp snap. “Leave. You are ruining everything.”
“No,” I answered firmly, and I noticed all of the looks that I was now getting from everyone else in the kitchen.
They seemed completely floored that anyone would defy the chef like this.
“Listen, I know I’ve messed up… A few times now.
But I can’t just leave you to deal with it.
I have to fix it. Maybe I shouldn’t be going rogue in your kitchen, but then you have to tell me what you need. How can I help you?”
Nolan didn’t say anything. Instead, he slowly put the newly ruined bowl down on the counter along with the fork he’d been using to stir it.
“I’m serious,” I continued, balling my hands into fists at my sides to build more courage. “I’m not leaving you alone with a flaming disaster.”
“You’re the disaster,” Nolan answered angrily, before he stomped past me. Everyone else gave way to him like he was parting the ocean, all clearly eager to avoid being a target for his wrath.
I wasn’t going to give up that easily, though. I followed him, making sure not to bump into anyone else as I did. I was going to fix this, no matter what. My first day may have started off badly, but it wasn’t going to keep progressing downhill.
“I can help,” I insisted, noticing that Nolan was heading for the chilled pantry. Probably to get fresh ingredients. “Even if I just carry things for you. Honestly, give me a chance. You might be surprised.”
Nolan didn’t look back. He held his shoulders high and tight, clearly sticking to the idea that I should be leaving rather than attempting to assist him. I was, however, determined to prove myself. I needed him to trust that I could get things done, and I needed this first impression to disappear.
He opened the door to the chilled pantry, which had already been slightly ajar, and walked inside.
I attempted to follow, only to trip over a crate that was standing right in the entrance.
Persimmons went rolling across the floor.
As I fell forward, the crate moved, and the door creaked shut behind me.
I caught myself on a nearby shelf, and straightened up before Nolan could see what had happened.
“Seriously?” Again, a low rumble came from his voice when he spoke. He turned incredibly slowly, as if he didn’t want to see what I had done. When he was facing me, he looked over my shoulder at the closed door.
“What?” I asked, glancing backward for a second before looking back at him. “Nothing broke. Who puts a crate of persimmons right where we’re meant to be walking, anyway? Someone could get hurt.”
“How clueless are you?” Nolan asked, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He seemed like he was on the verge of a panic attack. “That crate is kept there for a reason. It was keeping the door open!”
I stared down at the crate with a frown. “Shouldn’t this place be closed, though? To keep the freshness, or whatever? Either way, it’s fine. We can just—”
I moved over to the door, and tried to push it open. Nothing happened. “Huh. It’s a little stuck, but if we just...”
Nothing worked. Not the forceful jerk, nor the added shove from my shoulder. And that was with me using all the strength I had. It didn’t budge. When I looked at him, Nolan was rubbing at his temples, as if he was fighting a building migraine.
“The latch is faulty,” he said, now sounding more tired than furious. “It can’t open from the inside. That’s why the persimmons were there. So that nobody would get stuck in here.”
“So then we just call someone to open it.” I shrugged, still looking for the silver lining in the situation. I wasn’t entirely sure that there was one, but that didn’t matter.
I had to keep going until the problem was solved. As long as we could fix this somehow, everything would be okay, and I could still get on Nolan’s good side.
“With all of that noise out there?” Nolan shook his head.
“They wouldn’t hear us. Plus, there’s no cell service in here.
We’re stuck until someone notices how long we’ve been gone.
I told you to leave my kitchen. If you’d done that right from the start, maybe I could have saved that sauce.
But no. You just have to get in people’s way, don’t you? ”
“That’s not true,” I answered, deciding that I was going to stand my ground. “I’ve been trying to help you, but you just…”
“I just nothing,” he snapped, starting to pace between the shelves of fresh fruit and vegetables.
“I run a tight kitchen. People know what they’re doing at all times.
It’s a well-oiled machine, and you’re the wrench getting between the cogs and just…
fucking everything up. That’s why we’re in this position now. ”
“Arguing with me isn’t going to help,” I said, not wanting to admit out loud that he was probably right. “Are you sure nobody will hear us? They saw us come in here. They’ll open it from the outside.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said? My people are focused. There’s a lot of noise.” He stomped up to the door and began banging loudly. When nothing happened, he turned back to me. “Nobody is going to hear us.”
I stared at the door, hoping that someone would prove him wrong, but it didn’t open. Nolan sighed and walked to the far end of the room before swinging on his heels to chastise me further.
“You need to keep your nose out of the kitchen,” he snapped. “If you need something, call. Don’t ever set foot in here unless you’re expressly told to. I don’t need more meals ruined because you can’t move without spilling everything on the floor. Stick to your job, and let me do mine in peace.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, still prepared to defend myself. “But if you actually let people help you, maybe things like this wouldn’t happen.”
“Are you kidding me?” Nolan rolled his eyes. “Honestly, of all the times for Gregory to quit. Why now?”
I blinked a few times at the mention of the name. Gregory was the previous concierge. From what Reggie had said earlier, he’d been fired. But Nolan said he quit, and I was told that he’d retired. What was the truth? And why were there so many conflicting stories about it?
“What do you mean he quit?” I asked, hoping that I’d be able to successfully change the subject. “Mr. Klein told me that he retired.”
Nolan raised an eyebrow, but before he could answer, I heard the door’s latch click, and it opened behind me.
More angry than relieved, Nolan barged his way past me and the sous chef who had opened it. He glanced at her with fury still burning in his eyes. “Put the persimmons back where they belong.”
He marched off, and the sous chef looked at me with something resembling sympathy as she put the crate back where it had been.
I was about to follow Nolan, either to actually help or to ask more about Gregory, but as I stepped outside of the chilled pantry, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked the screen.
It was a text, reminding me that I needed to receive the celebrity guests that were coming in for the wedding tasting.
They were already waiting in the lobby. I had no choice but to leave Nolan with the chaos that I’d created, and, hopefully, I’d get another chance later to prove to him that I wasn’t just a blithering idiot.