Episode 93
EPISODE 93
CALLALOO-PY
Emily
Evangeline pulled me aside earlier and asked if I cared if she postponed June’s and my private dates until later in the week. She apparently has something else planned, so here I am in the massive gourmet kitchen. We’ve all been summoned to take part in some kind of cooking lesson. We’re all here except Brett and Sienna, of course, but someone else is missing as well…
I can’t help glancing around. River isn’t here, and the place feels empty without him.
Evangeline stands near the giant Viking stove. “All right, everyone. I’ve got something really fun planned for this afternoon. Brett isn’t here of course, but he’ll return later this evening. In the meantime?—”
Everyone turns at the sound of River bustling in. My God, he looks sexy. He’s wearing black shorts and a short-sleeved white button-down. His hair is damp from an obvious shower, and his dark eyes…
They smolder as they meet mine, but he looks away quickly.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says to Evangeline.
“You’re right on time.” She smiles in an exhausted sort of way.
Evangeline doesn’t look good. Dark circles mar her eyes and her skin is even paler than usual. She has lovely features and would be quite beautiful if she got rid of the whole goth image.
“Okay.” Evangeline lets out an exasperated sigh. “You all know our chef, Pierre Newland. These are his sous chefs, Marc and Katie, who some of you have no doubt already met, and we’ve brought in another chef from the mainland, Desmond Wallace.”
I can’t help staring at the new chef. Desmond Wallace has beautiful brown skin and eyes even darker than River’s. And they bloody smolder too.
No fraternizing is the policy, of course, but I’ve already broken that rule with Zion the bartender. If River has decided to look elsewhere for companionship, I may have to zero in on the new chef.
“It’s great to be here,” Desmond says, his voice low and laced with a sexy Jamaican accent. He smiles…directly at me. “You all can call me Desi.”
Damn…
“I’ve divided you all into pairs,” Evangeline continues. “Each pair will work with one of our chefs to prepare a traditional Jamaican dish. Afterward, we’ll have a feast for dinner, and everyone—including the chefs—will vote for their favorite dish. The winning pair will get a date with the person of their choice tomorrow evening.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Heather cajoles. “Who is with who?”
Whom . But I don’t say it.
“You, Heather, will team up with Alex, and you’ll be preparing our dessert.”
“Yum! I love dessert.” She grabs Alex’s arm.
“You two will be working with Chef Pierre, who wants to flex his pastry muscles.” Evangeline looks down at her tablet. “Our next team is Ariel and Sebastian, and you two will work with Marc.”
I look around. Four of us are left, but only one gentleman. River. Which means two of the women will be working together. What fun will that be?
In my heart of hearts, I’m so distracted hoping I’ll be paired with River that I don’t hear Evangeline announce the next couple. But when June squeals, I resign myself to my fate.
I will be paired with Misty.
I supposed I should be grateful Misty’s not with River, but I just spent a good part of the day in her room, and frankly, I’ve had enough of her.
“Misty and Emily,” Evangeline says. “You’ll be working with Katie on a vegetable side dish.”
Bloody seriously? Veggies? The most boring dish, and I don’t even get the hunky new chef? Desi is already talking to River and June in that sexy voice of his about the main dish they’ll be preparing. Misty is darting daggers at June with her gaze, and I’m just about ready to throw in the bloody towel.
Katie walks toward us, smiling. She and all the other chefs are wearing black. Chef Pierre is short and round, but Desmond and Marc are to die for. Katie is a pretty little thing—dark skin with gorgeous light-brown eyes—but of course we get the only woman.
“Emily, Misty.” Katie shakes my hand and then Misty’s. “I’m so excited to teach you how to prepare one of my favorite dishes, callaloo greens.”
Misty frowns. “What on earth are callaloo greens?”
Here she goes. Poor little rich girl didn’t get paired up with the man she wants and she’s stuck with two women.
“The greens can come from the amaranth plant or the taro plant,” Katie explains. “Callaloo is the name of the dish, and most Jamaicans refer to the greens themselves as callaloo greens. They’re a mild green. In fact, you can substitute spinach in this dish at home.”
“Great.” Misty rolls her eyes.
For the love of God… I’m not thrilled to be cooking vegetables with Misty, but she’s being plain rude to Katie, who seems like a sweet girl.
I smile. “Sounds fun, Katie. I’ve never heard of callaloo greens. What is in the dish?”
“It’s actually very simple to make,” Katie replies, returning my smile with a “thank you” look in her eyes. “These are the greens.” She holds up a stalk with bright green leaves. “We have to wash them thoroughly and then separate them from the tougher stem. Some chefs like to chop up the stalks and use them, but I find them a little bitter, so I leave them out.” She hands me a bunch of greens. “Hold these under cool water and make sure all the dirt goes down the drain.”
I take the greens and rinse them while Katie puts Misty to work chopping garlic.
“When you’re done, Emily,” Katie says, “chop the greens into bite-sized pieces. Then I need you to dice this tomato.”
“Absolutely.” I’m not much of a cook, but I can handle rinsing greens and chopping a tomato. In fact, this wasn’t such a bad idea on Evangeline’s part. It’s keeping our minds off Rachel and Ginger and what happened yesterday. Even Sienna and whether she’ll return is a distant question now that I have something to do.
Once the greens are clean and chopped, I set them down and take the plump tomato Katie gave me. I stand next to Misty, who has moved from the garlic to an onion.
Katie has disappeared for a moment, and Misty leans toward me. “How the hell are we going to win this thing with greens? Who wants to eat this shit?”
Before I can answer, Katie returns with two sky-blue drinks. “I thought a cocktail might be fun while we cook. This is a specialty of mine. I call it an Island Mirage.”
“That’s sweet of you,” I say. “What a gorgeous blue color.” I take a sip. “Delicious, too.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She looks over our work. “Good job, both of you. We’re going to sauté the aromatics now in some avocado oil over medium heat. I’ve got the pan ready. Misty, go ahead and add the garlic and onion.”
Misty heads toward the stove, but not before whispering in my ear. “I don’t think Heather wants River. She seems too flashy for him. She seems to be having a great time with Alex.”
“For the love of the saints, Misty, who cares?”
“I do. We’re going to win, Emily. And we can’t win with boring greens. Which means we have to make sure the other teams fail.”
I glance at Misty’s Island Mirage sitting on the counter. It’s still full. Odd. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was on the sauce. She’s gone a bit loopy. “Lighten up, Misty. This is supposed to be fun.”
“Of course it is, which is why we have to win. Winning is fun.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t you have onions and peppers to sauté?”
She scoffs. “I’m serious. We’re winning this thing.”
I shrug. “Go for it. Give it your best shot.”
What do I care? If we win, then I get to choose who I’d like to spend tomorrow evening with. And wouldn’t it just get Misty’s goat if I chose River?
The thought of spending a whole evening with him sends a quiver straight between my legs. We don’t actually know much about each other. All we’ve really done is fuck like rabbits. What’s his favorite color? What are his hobbies? What kind of literature does he like?
“I need your cooperation,” Misty continues. “We’re a team, Emily. And my team always wins.”
The delicious quiver morphs into a shiver up my spine at her words. I get that eerie threatening feeling again, and I don’t like it.
Clearly Misty doesn’t like to lose, which means she won’t give River up without one hell of a fight.
Good thing I know how to fight.
“Misty,” Katie calls from the burner, “the oil is heated and ready for the aromatics.”
“Just a minute.” Misty turns toward the table where Evangeline is sitting. “Evie, what happens if both people on the winning team want a private date with the same person?”