Chapter 3
ASPEN
“Why are you waitressing when you want to be in the kitchen?” My best friend makes a valid point if it were anywhere else I took a job.
“Because just catching a glimpse of a chef as good as Ryder Stevens is like standing at the right hand of God.”
“Okay, but there are thousands of restaurants in Manhattan that would take you on in their kitchen. Your food is second to none.” She means well, but Jude doesn’t understand true genius when she tastes it.
“Compared to Ryder Stevens, my dishes may as well be from any fast-food dive on the block. He’s the youngest chef to earn a Michelin Star.
He studied in France and Italy. He opened his first restaurant and made it the hottest place in Manhattan.
Do you have any idea how good your menu and execution need to be to pull off any one of those achievements? ”
“Geez, Asp, do you flick the bean to this guy?”
“Have you seen him?”
“No.”
I quickly search him on my phone and show her a picture. “Jesus Christ. Now I know exactly why you would want to work for him. Under him. On him. Fuck, I think I’ll take up cooking. He’s hot as fuck.” She’s not wrong.
“I’m not working there to sleep with him. I want to learn. Hell, I want to be him.”
“I want you to be him too. I’d climb you like a tree.” Jude can always make me laugh.
“Maybe it’s dumb, but if there’s even a small chance that I could move from waitressing at Dulip into the kitchen, then I’ll gladly do it. I don’t care if I’m washing dishes, I just want to see him in action.”
“You could fuck your way to the top. It wouldn’t exactly be a chore. He looks like he knows what to do with a woman. Even his name is sexy. Ryder. I’d ‘ryd’ him.”
“Do you ever think of anything else?” I put the finishing touches to my makeup and pull my hair back, ready for a long night.
“Oh, come on, tell me you’ve not had a single dirty thought about this man.” She grabs my phone and shoves it in my face. “Don’t lie.”
“Fine. He’s hot. But that’s not why I want to work for him.”
“I’m just saying… I would let that man fucking eat me.”
“Jude! He’s my boss. I’m not going to be that girl. It’s so cliché.”
“Cliché, but can you imagine that face between your thighs? Fuck me.”
“I’m leaving. I have to work with him today, and I’m going to be picturing that now.”
“Girl, if you don’t want to hit that, can I?”
“No! You’d use and abuse him, and then I’d get fired when it all goes south, and you stop calling. How many male friends have I lost over the years because you couldn’t keep your panties on?”
“One or two,” she says with a wicked grin.
“Or ten. Please, don’t come to Dulip and flutter those lashes at him. I like my job.”
“Like I want to come and spend hundreds of dollars for a tiny salad.”
“True, but it tastes divine.”
“It’s just some leaves on a plate.” She doesn’t understand. Most people don’t.
“Food isn’t just sustenance. It’s art. The dishes he prepares are delicate, but the flavors are bold. They burst on your tongue in a dance of sheer blissful elegance.”
“Wow. Should I leave you alone to flick the bean to the mere thought of this guy’s filet mignon? I feel dirty after witnessing your joygasm.”
“Stop!” I shove her shoulder.
She reaches for an apple from our fruit bowl and starts making out with it. “Oh, Ryder, yes… yes… yes!”
“I hate you right now.”
“You love me. And your boss.”
“It is possible to admire a man’s work without wanting to sleep with him.” I don’t finish that thought out loud. The truth is, my boss is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. I have indulged myself once or twice, thinking of him when I slip my hand under the sheets after a long night’s work.
“If you’ve never once considered those eyes on your naked body, or those fucking gorgeous lips feasting between your legs, there’s something wrong with you. I’m just going to say it… the second you leave here, I’m getting the showerhead and going to town with a picture of him.”
“God, Jude. I won’t be able to look him in the eyes after this conversation.”
“Just look him in his one-eyed monster. I bet he’s packing.”
I grab my purse and phone. “Goodbye. If you get a call from the hospital, it’s because I’ve been admitted after puncturing my eardrums, so I never need to hear your unhinged thoughts about my boss ever again.”
A devious grin spreads on her face. “I’ll just learn to sign it for you.”
“I’m leaving.” I head for the door, and halfway down the hallway, she wraps her arms around me from behind.
“I love you. But I’d love you even more if you got a candid snapshot of your boss.”
“Nope. Not happening. I like my job.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Bye, Jude.”
“Ugh. Bye.”
As I navigate my way to the elevator, I’m met with the creepy guy from the apartment four doors down from mine.
“Hello, Aspen.” The way he says my name makes me want to vomit. There’s something innately sleazy about him.
“Hi, John.”
“Off to work?” He takes a step closer.
“Yep.” The doors to the elevator ping open, and my heart sinks. There’s no one in it, which means it’s just John and me.
“Your perfume is really nice.”
“Thanks.” I give nothing more than one-word answers. Most guys get the picture if you don’t indulge in conversation, but not John.
“We should get coffee sometime.”
“I’m pretty busy with work.”
“Don’t you work nights? What about during the day?”
Take the hint. “Thanks for asking, but I’m not dating right now.”
“Oh, you’re one of those girls.”
I’m willing the elevator to go faster. I’m not going to engage whatever toxic shit he’s about to spew at me. There’s nothing I can say at this point that will be a good enough reason in his eyes.
“You think you’re too good for guys like me who earn an honest living. Let me guess your type. A corporate asshole who’s willing to throw money at you for you to open your legs.”
“Did you just call me a whore?” I know I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but trying to let a guy down gently and having him insinuate that I’m only interested in monetary transactions is beyond the pale.
I’ve dealt with too many men who think their wallet will get them between my legs.
“Is that how you square it away in your mind? The possibility that I’m just not interested is too much for your fragile ego. In the future, don’t speak to me.”
The elevator doors open onto the lobby, but before I can get away, he grabs my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. “Why do you have to be such a frigid bitch?”
“If you don’t let go of me right now, I’m going to scream for security and press assault charges.”
“For a harmless hand on your arm.”
“Try me, you creepy fuck. Now. Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me.” He releases me, and I make a break for it, scurrying out onto the street and hailing the first taxi I see.
I don’t need John following me to work. My heart is pounding in my chest as a cab pulls up, and I slink inside before he makes it out onto the street.
“Where to?”
“Dulip, please.”
“You got it.”
I sit back and attempt to calm my breathing as the driver pulls out into traffic.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, and my arm is tender from John’s vice-like grip.
Closing my eyes, I fight back tears. I refuse to shed a single goddamn tear over an asshole like him.
That fucker enjoyed exerting his physical power over me.
People like him don’t understand that the problem is them, not all the women they accost. If he weren’t a loser who disrespects women, maybe he’d find someone who could stand to be around him. Abuse isn’t a turn-on.
By the time the driver pulls up outside of Dulip, I’ve managed to calm my nerves enough to fake it through my shift. All I want to do is go home and wash off the feel of his fingers digging into my skin, but I’ve got a job to do, so I quickly pay and head inside.
My friend and fellow server, Rick, appears at my locker as I hang up my jacket and purse. “The Dish himself has requested everyone come into the restaurant to go over tonight’s specials.”
“Chef Stevens is doing the specials himself tonight?” That has just made my day. On the nights he’s working, there’s an electricity in the air—the aromas of foods and a dream of cooking with the best ingredients money can buy. He spares no expense when it comes to this restaurant.
“It’s cute the way you geek out over him. I’d eat anything he offered me, that’s for sure, crawling on my hands and knees with my mouth wide open.”
“Thanks for the visual.”
I pull a notepad and pen from my purse and make my way into the dining room to taste magic on a plate.
Everyone is huddled around, hushed whispers of anticipation as Chef Stevens emerges from the kitchen in his chef’s whites, and a jolt of electricity goes straight to my core.
I’ve noticed he’s hot before, but all the stuff Jude was saying about him as I left for work has me hot under the collar.
He has olive skin, sun-kissed by the gods, and the tightly corded muscles of his forearms highlight perfectly as he sets plates down on one of the tables.
The food presentation is a work of art, and the aroma in here is incredible.
“Tonight, you’re all going to taste the specials we’ll be offering.
I want you to know exactly what you’re giving my customers.
Some of you are getting sloppy in your service, and this is your wakeup call.
If you don’t step up your game, you’re out the door.
I have put everything I have into this place, and I expect perfection. ”
I quietly slip through my co-workers to a space right in front of him as he describes the dishes he’s prepared. I can’t help licking my lips at the mouthwatering food before me and the chef who made it.
“Do you want to try the steak? Aspen… is it?” He remembers my name.
“I would love to. It’s wagyu, right?”
“You know your steak,” he says with a panty-melting grin.