Page 62 of Chef's Kiss at the Chalet
Mia:All set up here. We got everything on your list and your station is ready.
Me:Thank you! Text you when I’m leaving.
So, while I got to work scrubbing pans, Ali returned to the kitchen to enjoy her breakfast. As the family and guests finished off various plates, the waitstaff dropped them back beside the sink. Luckily, I had the rhythm down pat now. It took hardly any time at all to get the place spotless and set up for me to jump right into dinner service this evening when I got back. Hopefully with first prize. I wasn’t sure if there was a trophy involved, but it sure would look nice on the mantel above the fireplace in my cottage.
While Ali briefly went back to the dining room to check on the family, I finished up and took a minute to write myself a quick list for tonight’s prep, to make sure I didn’t forget anything when I was too tired to think straight later.
“Bad news,” Ali said, walking back into the kitchen.
My stomach sank. “No. Don’t say it.”
“Mrs. Hawthorne suggested a spa day for Amelia and her guests.”
I was confused. “Great. That should get them out of the house. What’s the problem?”
“She wants to bring a yoga instructor and some massage therapists up to the chalet. Said it might be nice to have some spa snacks prepared for them. Little sandwiches and the like.”
I sagged against the kitchen island. I knew this would happen. It was my own fault for thinking I might be able to sneak away.
“Yeah,” I said, shoving down my disappointment. “Of course. No problem. I’ll get started.”
“I’m sorry, Elle.”
I nodded in thanks as Ali left. Astounded as I was that they could even consider folding themselves into pretzels after the meal I’d just fed them—of which they all ate nearly every bite—my first responsibility was to the chalet. If that meant cucumber sandwiches and grapefruit spritzers, the contest would have to go on without me. Whatever the entrance fee, I’d pay back Bea and Delilah if they couldn’t get a refund.
I grabbed a clean cutting board and went to the fridge to see what I had to work with. I was pulling out mint and parsley when Charles burst into the kitchen.
“Ready for the big day?” he said. He looked at his watch. “Better get going if you don’t want to be late.”
I went to my cutting board to start chopping the herbs. “Didn’t you hear? Your mom and Amelia are having a spa day. They requested snacks.”
“What? When did that happen?”
I shrugged.
“They can order food from somewhere in town. I’ll go talk to them.”
“No,” I said urgently, lifting my head from my chopping. “Please don’t. That’s exactly the kind of thing I’ve wanted to avoid. I’m here to do a job. I can’t have you jumping in to save me from work whenever I feel like it. Plus, it’ll definitely tip them off that there’s something going on between us.”
Charles’s face fell with disappointment. “Elle.”
“I mean it. Just let me do this.”
He sighed, visibly deflating. “Alright. It’s your decision.”
“Thank you,” I told him earnestly. Because I’d much rather he respect my wishes than diminish my position by trying to leap to my rescue. “Go on then,” I told him, plastering on a fake smile. “Get out of here and let me do my thing.”
“I’ll check on you in a while,” he promised as he left.
But not a minute later, the door swung open again.
Amelia appeared in the doorway. “I couldn’t help but overhear.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Something about a contest?”
I was instantly mortified. “No, it was nothing. Any special requests for spa snacks this afternoon?”
