Chapter 3 #2
I quickly jot down the cut and everything I see on the plate before he hands me a fork and a steak knife. “Let’s see if you can identify how it was seasoned.”
I take the cutlery and slice a small piece. As I slip it into my mouth, his eyes are trained on me, setting my pulse racing. The meat melts on my tongue, it’s so tender. Before I catch it, an audible moan escapes me.
My co-workers start giggling, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“You can all shut the fuck up. Just because you don’t know your ass from your elbow when it comes to food, it doesn’t mean you get to be derisive to one of my employees.”
I cast my gaze to the floor, hugging my notepad, as if it will shield me from the stares.
“So, Aspen, what do you taste?”
“It’s simple. Elegant. Salt and pepper. Some balsamic vinegar… aceto. There’s a hint of… rosemary?”
“Perfect. Now, try the vegetables.” I do as I’m told without hesitation, and it’s even better than the steak. The flavors explode in my mouth like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“Oh my God. They taste amazing.” Asparagus and brussels sprouts. Not exactly a go-to for me when I’m cooking, but these are divine.
“Elaborate. What are the ingredients?”
“Olive oil. Roasted walnuts, pecans… and Brazil nuts. There’s a hint of garlic, and…”
“Go on.” His eyes darken, fixed on my lips, and everyone else in the room ceases to exist.
“I’m not sure.”
“It’s not a test, Aspen. It is okay to hazard a guess.”
“I want to say Japanese curry salt.”
“Fuck me.” He scrapes his hand over his five o’clock shadow.
My brain is screaming. Yes. Fuck me. Please.
“You’re spot on. I brought it back from Tokyo last summer.”
“Teacher’s pet.” Someone sniggers behind me, but in this moment, I don’t care. Seeing Chef Stevens’ delight is elating. They can all kick rocks for all I care.
“Great observation… Claire. You’ve earned yourself a one-way ticket to the unemployment line.”
“What? It was just a joke.” Her voice is shrill. Annoying.
“I hope it was worth it. I don’t joke when it comes to my restaurant. If this is how you’re willing to treat a fellow server, you can’t be trusted to represent my brand. Get your stuff and leave. Now.”
There’s dead silence as she heads to the locker room to get her purse.
“Anyone else have any smart remarks?”
“You didn’t have to fire her. It’s not a big deal,” I offer as I scribble down the vegetable seasoning, my voice barely above a whisper.
“When it’s your restaurant, you can decide who stays and who goes. Last I checked, this is my fucking business.”
“I’m sorry, Chef.”
“Right. The rest of you, take a bite, and do the same with the dessert of the evening, my signature tiramisu. Then, make sure you note them down, and I want seamless service tonight. I have one of the most important food critics in the country coming to dine.”
As all the other servers taste the main dish, Chef Stevens doesn’t take his eyes off me. He takes a spoon and fills it with tiramisu before offering it up to me. I move to take the spoon, but he keeps hold of it, forcing me to let him feed me. It’s the most orgasmic mouthful I’ve ever tasted.
My heart is pounding in my chest as his breath catches at the sight of my lips wrapped around the spoon.
“You will come to my office after closing.”
“Yes, Sir.”
When he finally relinquishes my gaze, he addresses the room. “Get to work.”
He disappears back into the kitchen, and I quickly scratch down my thoughts on the tiramisu before I forget.
Rick is on me in seconds. “Girl… how does it feel to be eye fucked by Ryder Stevens?”
“What? Stop. He was happy that I knew the seasonings. That’s all.”
“He wants to fuck you. Hell, he fired Claire for you.”
“You heard him. He was pissed that I said he didn’t have to. It wasn’t about me. He wants the best in his restaurant. That’s all.”
“I would bet next month’s rent that he is going to fuck you. Maybe not tonight but soon.”
“You’re crazy.” I slip my notepad into my pocket and busy myself getting the dining room set up for dinner service.
Thankfully, my shift goes by quickly because Dulip is at full capacity. It’s unheard of in most restaurants, but this place is special. Chef Stevens is remarkable. I’m just hoping I don’t get fired for trying to save Claire’s job.
The compliments for the specials were plentiful, as were the tips.
I made a record high tonight. I don’t need this job to pay my bills, but it’s still great to make hundreds of dollars in tips.
When the guests are gone and the dining room is ready for another day, Rick walks by, slipping something in my pocket with a sly wink.
“No glove, no love, girl. Don’t let those piercing blue eyes convince you otherwise. ”
I reach into my pocket, tracing the telltale foil wrapper. “Rick! No. That’s not going to happen. He is my boss. Besides, he’s way out of my league.”
“I’m telling you, it was uncomfortable the way he was staring at you. Like you were going to be his next mouthwatering meal. He wanted to fuck you.”
“I’ll remind you of this when I’m in the unemployment line with Claire.”
“Bullshit. Goodnight, Aspen.” He presses a kiss to my cheek before leaving me to my fate. My stomach lurches up into my throat as I head for Chef Stevens’ office and rap my knuckles on the door.
“Come in.” The authority in his voice is sexy as hell, and the moment I think it, I chastise myself before blowing out a steadying breath and opening the door.
“Take a seat, Aspen.” He leans back in his chair across the desk, his fingers steepled under his chin as he considers me.
“I’m sorry if I misspoke earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.” The words come tumbling out of me, and it seems to amuse him.
“You’re not in here to get your marching orders, so sit down and take a breath.”
“Oh.” I take a seat and cross my legs. He doesn’t need a flash of my panties under my skirt. My entire body heats as his eyes rake the length of me.
“You know food.”
It’s a statement, not a question, so I sit wide-eyed, waiting for him to continue.
“Do I intimidate you?”
“Yes. You’re the youngest chef to earn a Michelin Star. Dulip has won every culinary award going, and the fact that you achieved all of that in Manhattan is really impressive. I’d be a fool not to be intimidated.”
“Why are you waitressing?”
“Because it’s a job.” It comes out snarkier than I intend. I’m nervous, and I’m not about to tell him that this is just a means to an end.
“You’re a little spitfire, aren’t you?”
“I… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Now, answer the question. You’re clearly skilled with flavors. Why aren’t you working in a kitchen? Are you trained?”
“Not the same level of training you had, but yes. I hope to go to Italy and study someday. Why do I work here? Because I wanted a foot in the door. Better to serve your food than work in the kitchen of an inferior chef. You’re the best there is, and I want to be at the right hand of a culinary god. ”
He stares me down, the furrow of his brow only highlighting his deviously delicious eyes as he bites his bottom lip.
“You’re waitressing in my restaurant because you want to learn?”
“Yes. I figured at some point, maybe I could wash dishes. As long as I’m in the kitchen, I’ll be the hardest worker you’ve ever had, sir.” He shifts in his chair, his stare pinning me to the spot.
“I’m considering opening a second location and will be hiring a new kitchen staff.” A wave of excitement washes over me, almost knocking me off my feet.
“I can wash dishes or chop vegetables. I’ll do anything you need.” A sultry grin tugs at the corner of his lips.
“You intrigue me, Aspen. I want to see what you can do in a kitchen. Based on your palette, I’d say you’re quite adept.”
“I would love the chance to cook for you, Chef Stevens.” Nerves rack my entire body. I came in here thinking I might lose my job, and instead, he’s asking me to cook for him. Me.
“Sir is fine.”
“Yes, sir.” I clench my fists in my lap, trying to steady my shaking hands.
“It was a joke, Aspen. You don’t need to be so formal. If I’m directing you in a kitchen, then I expect to be addressed as Chef Stevens. I’ve earned that respect, but if it’s just us, please, call me Ryder.”
“Yes, sir… I mean, yes, Stevens. Oh shit. I’m so sorry. I’m a little nervous. Thank you for this opportunity, Ryder. I won’t let you down.”
He leans back in his chair, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Let’s take it one step at a time. Are you available during the day to come in and work with me?”
I pinch myself. Surely, I’m dreaming right now.
“Of course. I will make myself available any day you want.”
He tilts his head, considering me. “So compliant. Have you always been this way?”
I suddenly feel exposed. Naked before him. “You must bring it out in me. I’m usually a ball buster.” His eyes darken, and my skin heats under his gaze, traitorous as I fight to stay professional.