Page 1 of Slow Simmer

Chapter One

Suzannah Monteil could speak four languages fluently, and swear like a sailor in half a dozen more. It was the latter skill she utilised as she stared at the disaster on her serving counter. Her long, capable fingers slashed at the air as she expressed her extreme displeasure with the sagging mess masquerading as a wedding cake her cringing pastry chef was trying to pretend had nothing to do with her.

“Suzannah!”

A shout finally broke into her tirade and she whirled on the heels of her sensible shoes, green eyes afire with fury. She didn’t calm down in the slightest even as she came face to face with her boss, resort manager Luke Collyer.

“Look at it!” she shouted, pointing a trembling finger at the lopsided cake. “Lookat it, Luke! I cannot send that out of my kitchen, not tomorrow, not ever!”

Summoned by the maître d’hotel who’d merely informed him that his temperamental chef was in a taking again, Luke surveyed the cake and bit his lip, wincing. Suzannah might have lost her temper, but she certainly had cause this time.

“That’s… not a good-looking cake,” he said finally. “Is that supposed to be the wedding cake for the big wedding tomorrow?”

Being chosen as the venue for the wedding of a movie star and a supermodel was a major coup for Sunfish Island, and Luke was well aware it was in large part because ofLa Sirène, the restaurant Suzannah ran with an iron fist. One of the first restaurants in Australia to be awarded a Michelin star,La Sirènewas one of the resort’s major attractions. And there was no way in hell that travesty of a cake could be served up to the two hundred guests attending tomorrow’s ceremony, many of them celebrities with huge social media followings.

“What’s your plan?” he asked calmly as Suzannah trembled with rage. He knew his executive chef; she’d already solved the problem in her head, but she needed to vent.

“I can fix it,” the hapless pastry chef said.

“Iwill fix it,” Suzannah said testily. “By starting again, from scratch. The cake has collapsed because it is not well made, which means just stripping the icing off and re-decorating is unacceptable. Undoubtedly I will be up all night.” She glowered, and Luke winced again. It was nearing midnight already, and the wedding was at eleven in the morning.

“Thank you,” he said inadequately.

“It is my reputation on the line, is it not?” She shrugged in a very Gallic way. “Unless we want this idiot’s creation to end up on CakeWrecks dot com, Ihaveto fix it.”

Luke choked at the mere idea. Suzannah shot him a wry smile before turning to point at the pastry chef.

“Vicky.” She swivelled her finger towards the door. “Get out. You’re fired.”

“But…” Vicky looked at Luke for support.

“Nope. You’re fired. You’ve got twenty-four hours to gather your stuff and get off the island.” Suzannah was well within her rights to fire the woman for a disaster of this magnitude, and Luke had no intention of undermining her authority in the restaurant. Even though Vicky was several years older than Suzannah, she didn’t have a tenth of Suzannah’s talents.

“Bitch!” Vicky hissed at Suzannah. “Good luck finding someone to replace me - nobody wants to work for a control freak like you!”

“That’s enough,” Luke said sharply. “Get your things. You’re on the first boat to Airlie in the morning, and if you don’t want to spend the night in the Hamilton Island lockup you’ll be spending the rest of the night packing and preparing to leave quietly.”

“Thank you,” Suzannah said with a sigh as Vicky stormed out, shooting vindictive glares at everyone who even glanced in her direction. Unbuttoning her white chef’s coat, stained after a long evening cooking, she shrugged out of it and stretched briefly before tossing it in a waiting laundry hamper and reaching for a fresh one. “Well, I’d better get started on this cake.”

“Can I get you any extra help?” Luke asked. “I know your staff have all knocked off for the night, but I can get some of them called back if you need…”

Suzannah shook her head. “I will be quicker working alone, without any of them to distract me. Don’t worry, Luke. Nobody will ever knowthateven existed.” She shook her head over the awful cake.

“You’re a superstar, Suzannah.”

“I know.” She smiled at him before turning away, picking up the offending cake and tossing it straight into the food waste disposal bin. “Now leave me alone to cook. And for God’s sake, find me a decent pastry chef. IfLa Sirèneis going to be the first restaurant in the country with two Michelin stars, I need the best.”

“Well, we can advertise the position, shortlist some people for interview…”

“Non!” Suzannah reverted to her native French briefly, waving her arms for emphasis. “I do not have time for all that nonsense. You and Jace promised me I should have whatever I wanted; well, I want the best. Find me the best.”

Luke watched as Suzannah turned away, headed over to the huge industrial refrigerators to pull out eggs, milk and butter. He had every confidence that she would pull off a spectacular cake by tomorrow, and it would be the crowning highlight to an incredible meal for the two hundred guests which would be raved about and end up extending the already-long waiting list for a table atLa Sirèneeven further.

Suzannah Monteil had put Sunfish Island on the foodies’ map by winning that Michelin star, and Luke, with the approval of Jace Hunter, the resort’s billionaire owner, had indeed promised her anything she wanted. Despite her temperamental attitude, this was the first thing she’d asked for, so he figured he’d better come up with the goods.

He hoped Jace had some ideas, because he honestly had no idea where to start looking. Being a billionaire, Jace must have eaten in a lot of fancy restaurants. Maybe he’d have contacts who could suggest someone.

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