Chapter 5
Dinner service at my restaurant Simmer some I knew by names due to their frequent visits. I was talking to one of my favorite couples—the Colfax’s. Mid 50’s. They had been married for thirty years and one of the first customers of Simmer & Soul when it opened.
The wife—Ms. Tami rested her hand softly on my forearm, looking up at me with those warm eyes. “How’s that baby boy of yours?” she smiled.
I returned the smile. “He’s doing good, Ms. Tami. Thank you for asking.”
“Bring him down to the bakery when you can, sweetheart. I got some cupcakes with his name on them.”
I was already about to decline at the sugary dessert when Ms. Tami gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “Relax. I know how you are. Its relatively healthy. I figured out a way to make it sweet without all that sugar. You inspired me.”
I smiled gently and placed his hand over hers. “We’ll stop by sometime this week.”
“Wonderful.”
“Let me send over a bottle of wine for you two. On the house,” I continued.
The husband—Mr. Gary—nodded with a smile. “Thank you, Remy. You’re a good man. A real good man.”
“Try to be.” I nodded. “I’ll have that sent right over.”
I stepped away from the table, waving over one of the servers and requesting a bottle of white wine for the couple. I was making my way back to the kitchen when I stopped in my tracks—
It was her.
My stomach instantly got butterflies. After that night at the club, I never dreamed I would see her again. And now…here she was. In my restaurant like a gift.
Or a sign.
I didn’t believe in coincidences. Our paths had crossed again, only this time, I was in my element, so I was prepared. I made my way back to the kitchen with a plan.
Everyone loved food. It was a shared language amongst all people.
No matter the culture or creed, everyone could be unified with a great meal.
And if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was prepare a great dish.
She was already eating dinner, but a phenomenal dessert paired with a great glass of wine would round out her meal perfectly.
On the surface, she was relaxed but classy. A woman like that wanted to indulge in something rich and luscious. A dessert that tickled all her senses. I beckoned over one of my pastry chefs for support and smiled to myself as we got to work.
I started with a raspberry coulis base. Warm lemon olive oil cake, topped with a whipped mascarpone cream, lightly kissed with Madagascar vanilla. I built it slow, patient, layering each element with care.
“Chef, you want it plated modern or rustic?” the pastry chef asked.
I looked up. “Elegant. Like her.” I grabbed the wine pairing.
A late-harvest Riesling from my personal collection.
Light, floral, seductive without overpowering the senses.
As I arranged the final sprig of fresh mint, I gave a short nod to one of the veteran servers.
“Corner booth, yellow dress. Don’t say who it’s from. Just set it down and present it.”
The server smirked, catching the glint in my eye. “Yes, Chef.”
I stepped out, still out of sight but wanting to see her reaction.
The server walked over and set it down. I could see them talking—she was probably asking who sent it.
The server smiled gently and explained. Her brows were raised in curiosity—maybe a little amusement.
But she was smiling, so that was a good sign.
I leaned against the wall, arms folded and continued to watch her.
Curious, she picked up the fork and cut into the layered cake. She stared at the forkful for a second before slowly bringing it to her mouth. As soon as the dessert hit her tongue, her eyes closed and her shoulders dropped. I smiled as I watched her savor it.
She shook her head in wonder, and I could see her mouth “Dammit.” Rubbing my beard, I chuckled to myself.
She took a bigger forkful. “Dammit,” she mouthed again.
She followed it with a slow sip of wine which heightened the flavor.
Her head tilted back. That body language spoke more than words ever could.
She loved it.
My heart was beating a little too fast, but I pushed past my nerves to approach her. “So…we meet again,” I greeted playfully.
She looked up at me, blinking slowly before a slow smile spread across her face.
"Guy from the club," I filled in.
She smirked. "I remember."
Silence.
Shit. This was harder than I remembered. “Do you like it—the dessert?” I asked, hands tucked in my pocket. I was nervous but trying to hide it. But it looked like she saw everything, and those big brown eyes just took me in as she studied me without saying a word.
Finally, she tilted her head. "Mmhm."
Okay. She wasn't easily swayed. I cleared my throat. “I’m Remy.” I stretched out my hand.
She slowly placed hers in mine, the smirk still on her lips. "Gianna."
“Pleasure to meet you, Gianna." I held her soft hand longer than necessary before letting go. "I’m the owner and I—”
“Did you make this?” she cut in.
I cleared my throat again and nodded. “I did.”
She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. Still smirking, still eyeing me. "Why?” she asked.
“Excuse me?” I replied, taken aback and feeling slightly intimidated now. She was so beautiful. And although she looked gentle and approachable, there was an underlying boldness to her that I was picking up on. I was intrigued though. A ball of anticipation settled in my stomach.
“I said why?” she repeated slowly, tone teasing.
She was fucking with me. Enjoying seeing me squirm. I licked my lips and smiled. “Well—I think you’re beautiful,” I answered honestly, tone soft. “And I just wanted to do something to get your attention.”
Gianna tilted her head at my earnest tone gauging if I was being genuine or not.
“That was sweet.” She nodded swirling the wine around in her glass “Well you got it. But… let me ask you something, Remy.” She leaned forward slightly, eyes twinkling in amusement.
“What if I was allergic to one of the ingredients? "
My mouth opened to speak and then closed promptly as I realized that she was right. “Damn,” I rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on my face. “You’re right. I didn’t even consider that.”
She finally smiled. "You gotta be careful, handsome. Your kind gesture could've killed me."
“I'm sorry,” I apologized feeling careless and pissed at myself for my lack of forethought. “Can we start over? Please."
Her eyes held mine again. Those damn eyes were going to undue me.
“This is new to me,” I explained. “I’m really rusty,” I admitted with a hesitant smile. “I haven’t pursued a woman in so long…” My head dropped before coming back up. "I would love the opportunity to get to know you, Gianna. That's all."
She set down her glass. "This is your restaurant but have a seat." She gestured towards the chair across from her. "I don’t like you looking down at me."
I sat down quickly. "Thank you. And sorry for interrupting."
She nodded. "It's all good. You saw something you liked. And this was a cute gesture," she smiled with approval.
I returned it, shoulders dropping slightly. "Glad I could make you smile then."
She picked up the extra fork next to her and handed it to me. "Have some with me, Chef."
My stomach flipped. The act of sharing food with me—a damn stranger— caught me by surprise. It was an intimacy that most people took for granted. But not me. There was something about the ease in which she offered that made my heart kick up.
My smile deepened and I accepted the fork. "Thank you."
"Sure thing," she smiled again.
We both took a forkful and shared a look when it hit our tongues.
"This is so good," she admitted her pink tongue snaking out to lick the fork.
I could see the small sliver ball in it. My stomach tightened and I felt a tension in my groin as I watched her. Her eyes came back to me.
"T-Thank you," I stuttered for a second.