Page 65 of The Chef's Kiss
“Perfect.” She stuffed her mouth with the last of her bread and a fig and took the small bin of chilled butter packets under her arm. “Back to it then,” she managed to get out over her chewing. “Have fun cooking.” She stepped out of the cooler, narrowly missing one of the line cooks running with a vat of marinated chicken.
“Watch where you’re going,” I snarled after him.
“Be nice to our employees and remember you’re not on an episode ofHell’s Kitchen.” Jorgina laughed and went to work.
“Have fun bossing everyone around,” I called after her.
“I will!” She turned back toward me with a bright smile that would hold me over for the rest of the evening. “Come out and take a bow soon. It’s starting to wind down a bit.”
“If I must.”
“You must.”
I shook my head, grinning as I returned to my butchering work while my line cooks and sous chefs kept the meals moving out the door. I loved my job.
* * *
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Jorgina stood at the front of the dining room while I was quietly beside her waiting for my two seconds of recognition.
“Thank you for joining us tonight. Our first! And what a grand opening it’s been.” She smiled, pausing at the perfect moment for the polite applause. It didn’t escape my notice she said grand opening instead of soft opening. I guess that’s what this turned out to be. “Raise a glass, if you will.” She turned to me. “To Chef Silverman, the brilliant mind behind the menu tonight.”
“Here, here!” Several voices joined in, and I took a bow, surprised by the genuine applause from all the familiar faces I’d met since teaming up with Jorgina. I waited for an opening and lifted my glass of champagne to the best manager I’d ever worked with. “And to Ms. Ashford. None of us would have made it without her.”
She sank into a perfect curtsy, clutching her glass of ice water. “And to everyone else who helped make tonight wonderful. We hope to see you all again very soon.”
The diners quickly returned to their meals as Jorgina moved around the room to check on our guests. She didn’t do anything halfway, and it showed in the success of this night.
“Congratulations, Chef.” A familiar voice pulled me down to the harsh realities of Earth.
“Jordan.” I turned to find her seated at a nearby table, with two of her friends paying court to her. “What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms over my chest as all of my excitement and the thrill of a successful opening crashed at the realization she was here.
“Come sit with us.” She gestured to the empty seat beside her.
“I’ll stand, thank you.” I intended only to give her a brief moment to say whatever she came all this way to say, and then I was going to my kitchen. I wouldn’t let her ruin my night.
“Oh, so you’re still mad.” She laughed. “How like you to hold a grudge.”
“You needed something?” I arched a brow at her. She got me blackballed out of New York, and now she wanted to joke about it?
Jordan leaned forward. “You’ve outdone yourself here.” She nodded at the room. “This is some of your best work, but you can’t be seriously considering staying in this little town, wasting your talent on people who can’t appreciate it.”
“Your point, Jordan?”
“Come back to New York.” She leaned back in her seat. “Let bygones be bygones. I’ll still front the money for your restaurant like I promised I would. And a word from me and the foodies will come out to support you.”
“You can’t be serious.” I knew Jordan, and there would be strings attached to her offer. She didn’t do anything unless it benefitted her and the things she wanted. After she ruined my career, it took me a long time to see how she’d manipulated and controlled me. I’d escaped that world, and now she was offering it to me again on a silver platter.
“Oh, I’m serious. I know a good investment when I see one. I have to say, I wasn’t certain before you left New York. I mean, I knew your name and your parents’ reputation would draw enough attention to make it a worthwhile short-term investment, but you’ve really surprised me with this menu and location. All for an apple-themed restaurant attached to some coastal orchard? It’s absurd.” She shared a laugh with her girl friends. “I heard about it, and I just had to come see what you were thinking, but this … you really pulled it off, and it’s still elegant, refined food with a wonderful dining experience. I’m truly impressed.”
“Chef Silverman?” The hostess came up behind me. “So sorry to interrupt, but I can’t find Jorgina. I have one more party arriving a little late. They say they’re friends of hers. Is it okay to still seat them?”
A young couple waited at the entrance behind the hostess, and I gave them my undivided attention.
“Of course.” I stepped away from Jordan and her outrageous offer. “The kitchen will remain open for a little while longer. Please be seated and Jorgina will come by to greet you both.” I didn’t give Jordan another glance before I returned to my kitchen, my mind reeling with her offer. The one I would have sold my soul for just a few short weeks ago.
23
JORGINA
