Page 104 of Ours to Lose
My nerves disintegrated into Pop Rocks bursting throughout my body. It didn’t matter what she said about the dishes; she was hired. Everything I needed to know was in how she approached the food. Like she respected it. Like she was trying to learn from it. Like she wanted to give it her best.
I could help her reach her best. The same way Jase helped me.
He could help her too. Between her and the guys, we could foster a whole new set of chefs, bring new voices to Ardena. And I could already tell she’d make me better too.
When she’d finished her bite of the dessert, she lowered the fork and turned to me. I gave a nod of encouragement.
“It’s…” She appraised the dishes again, a faint smile tugging her lips. “Really good. The progression is awesome. Everything makes sense, and the presentation is gorgeous…”
I tried not to smile at the note of something else in her voice. “But?”
Her gaze lingered on the entrée as she fought her hesitation, no doubt a holdover from whatever kitchen she’d apprenticed in during culinary school that probably drilled the expectation of never questioning the head chef. We’d work through that real quick.
She finally let the words free. “The rhubarb-glazed squab…I’d use duck instead.”
I nodded in concession and gestured at the counter. “Let’s try it.”
She beamed and reached for her apron as I went to grab the duck still in the walk-in from recipe testing earlier in the week.
Her knife skills proved to be as clean as I expected from someone who went to culinary school, and she asked the kinds of questions only someone with a strong understanding of flavor profiles and cooking techniques would. She even plated the dish to be nearly identical to the original, committing to her placement of components rather than giving her hands the chance to shake.
When it was time to taste the updated version, I let her go first, then followed her steps of smelling the dish before taking a careful bite.
She sought out my reaction, but I made her go first.
Her opinion came out quicker this time. “The texture’s not as good.”
“No. That’s why we ended up going with squab. But this has a richer flavor. It might be worth trying to combine the two.”
“You mean like rendering the duck fat and using it to cook the squab?”
“That could work. There’s a risk it will be too busy, but we won’t know until we taste it. You want to come back tomorrow and give it a try?”
She grinned. “Really?”
I grinned back. “This week is all about fine-tuning this tasting menu to submit by Friday’s competition deadline. Then we’re back to events. If you’re still interested, I’d love you to join me for both.”
“I’m so in.”
A wedge of frustration that had been jammed between my ribs for weeks dissolved as another piece of the catering puzzle settled, and an eagerness for tomorrow shimmered throughout the kitchen.
“Here,” I said, digging my phone out of my apron pocket. “I’ll email you the paperwork Jillian will need so you can bring it back tomorrow.”
A text message popped on my screen before I had the chance. I read it and froze.
“Is…everything okay?” Mack asked when I didn’t move.
It took me longer than it should have to process her question. Then longer still to answer it. As soon as I could, my body snapped into action.
“No.” I ripped off my apron and spun to find my bag. “I’m going to have Jillian email you the forms instead. I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Don’t worry about locking up.” I’d ask Jillian to handle that too. She’d have one of the guys run over if she couldn’t do it.
“Sure, no worries,” Mack said as I rushed by.
I attempted another smile, hoping to whatever goddess ruled the kitchen that I hadn’t just lost the perfect sous chef for my team, but I couldn’t worry about it now. I pushed through the door and took off for the subway, dialing Evan’s number on the way.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Gabe
