Page 11 of Slow Simmer

Chapter Six

Suzannah wanted, so badly, to find something wrong with Carlo’s cooking. He’d never lacked for skill, though, and his artistic presentation was even better than hers. Every plate he set before her contained a tiny masterpiece of culinary art which looked, as Nessa had said, almost too good to eat.

But when one did taste it, ah, that was when the true magic was revealed. Delicate yet intense flavours exploded on the taste buds, everything precisely calculated to deliver the maximum gastronomic pleasure.

She could find no flaw. The macarons, downfall of many an experienced chef, were perfectly risen, crisp on the outside, chewy inside. The souffle a perfect little puff of sweet delight.

When he rounded out the dégustation with a trio of deep-fried chocolate wontons, filled with dark, milk and white chocolate, she couldn’t take it any more. Luke was looking at her with an expression which said there was no bloody way she was firing Carlo, and the truth was she really couldn’t without looking ridiculously petty. He’d always been good, and the years he’d spent in Italy running Palazzo Gianetti had given him the time to perfect his skills.

Quite simply, he was the best dessert chef they were ever going to be able to attract. Better than she was in this area of the craft, she admitted very privately to herself. She had the technical skill but not the artistic flair for sweets which Carlo did.

Saying so stuck in her throat, though, and she finally flung her napkin down on the table, rose to her feet and walked out, ignoring Edouard’s sharp inquiry as to whether she was all right.

“I take it I’m staying, then, since she didn’t dismiss me?” she heard Carlo drawl behind her, and gritted her teeth. Bloody,bloodyman.

“Of course you are, Carlo!” Jace said enthusiastically, but anything else which was said was mercifully cut off as the automatic glass sliding doors closed behind her.

“Suzannah!”

Who the hell had been stupid enough to follow her when she was in this mood?She turned with a scowl, and Edouard almost ran right into her.

“Pardon me,” he apologised at once. “Are you all right, Suzannah? Did something make you feel sick? That’s a perfectly good reason to refuse Gianetti’s appointment…”

Suzannah’s scowl deepened. Why wouldEdouardnot want Carlo to stay? She had a personal reason not to want him on the island, but Edouard must surely recognise his skill.

“Not at all,” she disclaimed. “I’m just annoyed. His recipes are so good, surely you must see that the entire dessert menu must be redone? And we only just did it! That means another round of training for the pastry kitchen staff, and it will be at least two, three weeks before we can put the new menu online. A great deal of interruption to the routine, just as we are coming into the busy season!”

Edouard looked at her uncertainly. “Surely we could wait to implement the changes,” he suggested, but she shook her head.

“No. No, it would be a waste, limiting Carlo to what a chef of lesser skill has created.” Steeling herself, she lifted her chin.

Never let it be said Suzannah Monteil backed down from a challenge.She started walking back to the restaurant at a steady pace. There was a great deal of work to be done.Work, that was how she was going to get through this. Keep everything on a professional level.

She did her best to ignore the little voice in the back of her head which usually whispered words of reason when she was being foolish. Because at the moment, all she could hear was cynical laughter.

* * *

Back in the restaurant, all was quiet, the others obviously having finished up and left while she was storming around the garden in a rage. The table they’d used had been cleared, no sign that they’d been there ate all.

She could still taste the faint, sweet aftertaste of the dark chocolate wonton on her tongue, though. Damn Carlo, he’d served those deliberately. They’d been a staple on the menu atBenoitback when they worked there together, and had always been her favourite.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen, she closed her eyes and took several slow, deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Repeat, until she felt calmer.

When she opened her eyes, Carlo was leaning in the doorway between the two kitchens.

For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, and then Suzannah shrugged. “You knew all along I couldn’t refuse to have you here after they’d tasted your food. There’s no need to gloat.”

“I’m not gloating, Suzannah.” He unfolded his arms and straightened up, taking a couple of steps towards her. “We need to work together, here. Friction between us isn’t going to be helpful.”

“Why are you here?” burst out of her, the demand fuelled by frustration. “You have the world at your feet, you could work anywhere if you don’t want to run Palazzo Gianetti any more. Whyhere?”

“Why areyouhere?” Carlo turned the question back on her.

Suzannah blinked. “Creative freedom,” she said finally. “When Luke offered me the job, he gave me total free rein, said I could take the restaurant in whatever direction I wanted because it was completely new. There was no established theme I had to follow. They even built the kitchens to my specification and, until you, have given me total authority to pick my own staff.”

“The way I heard it, you told Luke to just find you someone good,” Carlo raised a brow, and Suzannah looked down, a little shame-faced.

“I didn’t have the time. And I do trust his judgement. He knows my standards.”

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