Page 15 of Just a Taste
‘We may have to get a little creative, yes,’ Wilbur says with a gruff cough. ‘But, and at the end of the day here, Alexander, I’m just trying to think of our bottom line. We have shareholders to keep happy. Remember that.’
Damn. I know I call Hoxton a grinch, but he’s not the one trying to conjure up reasons to fire an entire support centre of staff just before Christmas.
I clear my throat, sparing Wilbur the full force of the fury that’s clearly about to come out of Hoxton’s mouth. ‘Ladies and gentleman… for your appetiser tonight, we have a sweet cranberry honey baked brie with French bread freshly made this morning from the fabulous Maison Badeaux.’
Therese claps her hands in delight, clearly having heard of the famous French bakery that currently has the city in a chokehold. An understandable chokehold, if you ask me. Maison Badeaux can do no wrong, and they’re my supplier of choice when it comes to baked goods these days.
I take a step back from the table. ‘Please enjoy.’
‘It smells divine,’ Meryl says, reaching forward to grab aslice of French bread to dip into the brie. ‘Mmm, and tastes even better.’
That’s all the invitation anyone needs. I’m beaming as I watch them all reach forward and help themselves to a bit of bread and brie, taking in the way their eyes roll back slightly with identical hums of pleasure slipping from their lips.
My gaze flickers across the room and lands on Hoxton. That’s when it hits me suddenly. I’ve never actually seen Hoxton eat one of my meals. I’ve spent the last two years assuming that he enjoys them but, for all I know, he could be palming everything off on Roland every night.
I can’t take my eyes off him as he slowly reaches forward and plucks a piece of bread off the board. He seems to sense that I’m watching and looks up, his dark eyes meeting my curious gaze. And he holds it there. Doesn’t so much as blink as he dips the bread into the brie and then brings it up to his lips.
He savours the taste in his mouth, his eyelids flickering in that tell-tale manner that lets on more than he’s willing to admit. I’m sure the grin on my face is more smug than anything else as I turn away from Hoxton and head for the kitchen again.
I think that was my third Hoxton compliment of the day.
It must be a Christmas miracle.
CHAPTER FOURAlex
The Board won’t stop raving about Noelle.
It started with the brie, with Brian declaring it – a wisp of cheese dripping from his chin – to be phenomenal. Everyone else murmured in agreement, mouths full with cheese and bread, and the sentiment has steadily continued throughout the night. Our main for the evening, a perfectly crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside pork loin served alongside surprisingly flavoursome Brussels sprouts and a creamy gratin, just about makes them lose their minds. Every word that comes out of their mouths is praise for Noelle and the admittedly delicious feast she’s prepared for us.
Just as I knew she would.
‘This is it,’ Luca groans dramatically, shovelling gratininto his mouth. ‘I’ve reached the peak my palate will ever again experience. It’s all downhill from here.’
Therese nods enthusiastically as she spears a Brussels sprout onto her fork. ‘She’s got the magic touch. How else can you explain Brussels sprouts tasting like this?’
‘Do you think she’ll share her recipes?’ Brian asks, going for his second serving of pork loin. ‘Or is she available for hire?’
‘I bet she’s in high demand,’ Meryl says, daintily dabbing at the sides of her mouth with a napkin. ‘Where did you find her, Alex?’
‘She’s his personal chef,’ Luca says cheerfully. ‘Whenever you’re at the office, have you never noticed Alex doesn’t eat at the staff canteen and always brings his own food in? This is why.’
I scowl at Luca from across the table.
‘A personal chef?’ Wilbur murmurs beside me. It’s the first thing he’s said in quite a while, too preoccupied with devouring the meal on his plate. I suppose I should thank Noelle for that. Anything that can render Wilbur mute and save me from his constant scheming is nothing short of a miracle in my book. ‘You know, I’ve been considering hiring one for a while now. Do you know if she has any openings for new clients?’
‘No,’ I say, quicker and sharper than I’d intended. ‘She’s fully booked.’
‘A pity,’ Wilbur says. ‘She’s quite talented.’
I don’t need Wilbur of all people to tell me that. There’s a reason I’ve held onto Noelle for as long as I have, and I don’t intend on sharing her with the rest of them. Wilbur opens his mouth but whatever is on the tip of his tongue is cut off by the return of Noelle, pushing a small cart into the room.
‘Dessert, anyone?’ Her voice is almost like a song as she darts around the table and places small plates in front of us. ‘First we have—’
‘First?’ Meryl cuts in, eyes wide.
Noelle nods, an almost sly grin tugging at her lips. ‘I’ve got two and a half desserts for you tonight.’
‘I don’t usually have a sweet tooth,’ Meryl says. ‘But if your desserts are anything like the rest of the meal, you might find me slipping some into my handbag to take home.’
