Page 14 of Don't Remind Me
“Is that a carrot?” I asked, staring at the swirls of color arranged on my plate into what was truly a work of art, a long orange shape sitting in the center.
“Yes,” he said gruffly.
I met his stare, brows drawn. “You want to put carrots on the menu?”
His jaw tightened. “What’s wrong with carrots?”
“Nothing. Just when you were going off about only cooking mind-blowing food I didn’t envision carrots.”
He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “Try it.”
I glared at his smug confidence but rolled out the silverware and cut a piece of carrot, pausing to breathe in the aromas floating up from the dish. It really did smell incredible.
Then the glazed bite landed on my tongue, and a moan practically exploded from my chest. “Holy shit,” I breathed, too caught off guard by what was happening in my mouth to process my own words. “This is really good.”
I may have heard a huff of laughter, but I couldn’t be sure because my eyes had fallen shut, the savory goodness coating my tongue and the subtlest hint of sweetness that lay beneath it the only things I cared about anymore. When the flavor started to fade, I went back for another bite, making sure to get some of every component on my fork. I managed to hold in my next moan, but barely.
“What the hell did you do to this carrot to make it taste so good?” I asked. I wasn’t trying to flatter him, but he seemed to soften at the words all the same, his shoulders lowering an inch.
“They’re roasted carrots with almond and pine nut praline, arugula chimichurri, and golden raisins,” he said. “I thought it could be the first course for the gala.”
“Done.” This was a thousand times better than the coconut shrimp from the hotel’s menu.
He nodded once, then turned for the kitchen and left me to my love affair with my new favorite vegetable.
The rest of the tasting went pretty much the same way. He came out with a dish that looked like it belonged in a museum rather than on a dining table, and I lost upper brain function from how good it tasted. Then he revealed it was made with something mundane like a potato or broccoli stalk, and I lost my mind all over again.
We didn’t speak much outside of discussing the dishes. I wasn’t sure what to say. He’d made it clear he had no interest in being buddies, and given my mind’s unconscious after-dark activities, it was probably best I limited my interactions with the Beauford boys.
I was scraping the last traces of grilled nectarine and burnt sugar ice cream from my plate, only barely restraining myself from throwing aside my fork and straight up licking off what was left, when Jase cleared his throat again. He’d stayed behind the bar while I ate this course instead of heading back to the kitchen like he had all the others, which I took to mean this was the last dish of the afternoon. I tried not to let my disappointment show.
He had one hand resting on his hip while the other rubbed his jaw, strong fingers scraping over his brown scruff. “Look,” he started. I braced myself for a blunt remark.
“Oh good, Dani, you’re still here,” Jillian said from behind me.
She scurried across the dining room in a chic red dress that emphasized the auburn tone of her dark hair and the rose color on her cheeks. With her heels, her eyes were level with mine when she reached my stool.
“Hi, Jillian,” I said as I placed my spoon on the officially empty plate. I sighed as I pushed it away.Goodbye, sweet, sweet heaven.
“How was the menu tasting? I trust Jase has been on his best behavior.” Her tone held a subtle scolding as she flashed him a look. He grunted in response, and I could make out the monumental effort he used to hold back an eye roll. It was impressive, actually.
“It was amazing,” I answered, focusing on Jillian. “You were right about Jase. He’s incredibly talented.”
I kept my gaze locked on her as I said it, avoiding Jase so I wouldn’t have to acknowledge the statement as the compliment it was, even though a part of me was glad he was there to hear it. In a way, it wasn’t even a compliment; it was a fact. He’d cooked the best food I’d ever eaten, and he deserved to hear me say it once. I didn’t plan on doing it again. His ego didn’t need the assist.
Jillian gave a pleased smile, pride rising in her cheeks. “Excellent. We’ll make sure this is the best damn fundraiser this city has ever seen.”
A small knot formed beneath my ribs that hoped she was right. There was no reason she shouldn’t be, as long as no one messed up too completely.
As long asIdidn’t.
The food in my stomach no longer sat quite so well.
“Speaking of which,” she continued. “I just got off the phone with Talia, and we thought it would be good to reach out to a few of the local media outlets I have connections with to generate some buzz for the event. It would be a boost for both HBC and Ardena, and maybe it could even bring in a few more donations. We wrote a quick press release, but Talia wanted you to review it before I send it out. What do you think?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, that sounds great. You’re right; the more people we get talking about the event and the clinic, the better.”
Jillian clapped her hands in a flurry. “Perfect. You stay right there, and I’ll go forward you the draft.” She scuttled toward the stairs, and I couldn’t help but grin.
