Page 4 of Unexpected Pickle
She grimaces. “I’m not touching that sweaty man-flesh. I have food to prep.”
Back to old Jeannie.
I don’t mind. Walking beside her is good enough for me.
2
JEANNIE, WATCHER OF WILT
Iam not looking at Hex, glistening in the bright lights of the set.
I’m watching the lettuce for wilt, the grapes for sheen, and the…oh, what am I saying?
Hex is the shiny thing no one can take their eyes off of.
“Geez, Louise, look at that man.” My assistant Vera practically dissolves in a puddle next to me. She’s holding a chilled vat of romaine. We have to replace it every fifteen minutes or it goes limp.
I shouldn’t have thought of that word.
Becauselimpmakes me think ofhard, and that makes my disobedient gaze drop to Hex’s athletic shorts.
Nope. Not going there. I’m a career woman, and I’m here for work.
“Be ready to switch out the lettuce,” I whisper.
“Now give us the line,” Adriel says to Hex, hands on his hips. He thinks he’s really something in a black turtleneck and jeans, a beanie on his head. He has to be absolutely melting in that getup. It’s really warm in here.
Hex presses his fists against the tabletop, which makes his arm and shoulder muscles expand like a soufflé. With his riveting eyes and sandy auburn beard, he’s something to behold.
“I’m going to faint,” Vera says.
Hex trains his gaze on the camera. “Anyone can look like me when they learn nutrition atEat Play Win.”
My breath catches. He’s so sincere that even I almost believe him.
The moment holds, Hex’s attention fiercely focused, then Adriel calls, “Cut! Take five for a food refresh.”
Hex steps back from the table, and everyone in the room starts to move, like we were all frozen and enthralled until the director broke the spell.
Vera hurries forward. “Oh, Hex, you are so good. So impressive. I’m just blown away.”
I grit my teeth as I pull lettuce leaves from below the carefully arranged carrots, radishes, and ears of corn. “Vera, if you’re done ogling the actor, could you fetch me the apples?” I’m not sure if Adriel wants me to replace the one Hex crushed, but I want to be ready.
“Oh, all right.” Vera sets the container of lettuce on the table. “See you later, Hex.”
I don’t look up to see if he’s following her walk. Vera is adorable, like a tiny Disney princess. She is approximately one-fourth of his size.
I’m often called an “Amazon woman” due to my height and width, and I have more freckles than a week-old banana. I wear my hair too slick, and my chef uniform too loose. I’m not in this for the attention. Not for me.
Just what I do.
I quickly tuck lettuce leaves into the circle as before, shifting all the other items back into their precise positions so that wedon’t create continuity problems in the commercial should they splice random cuts together.
I’m good at this. I enjoy doing it. There is nothing more satisfying than an expertly arranged display of beautiful food. And I have it here.
Sweat beads on my brow. It’s hot under the lights, and I’m in full chef whites.
I’ve gone soft, I think. I should be in a busy kitchen, standing in front of pots, stirring and scalding and searing. A few stage lights are nothing compared to that.
