Page 4 of Just a Taste
I don’t manage to get the gravy stains out of my whites entirely, but I must do a decent-enough job because Gareth doesn’t immediately send me back to the kitchen to swap me with Will or Jamie. Instead, he just gives me a mildly disapproving once-over, nods reluctantly, and then gestures for me to follow him out into the dining area along with the wait staff carrying plates of Christmas pudding.
As soon as I step out into the room, the table erupts into over-the-top, slightly drunken – I’m assuming – applause and cheers from everyone. Well, almost everyone. There’s a man sitting at the furthest end of the table, in the chair closest to the exit, with a sour look on his face. He’s glaring determinedly at his plate, as if it’s personally wronged him somehow, and doesn’t so much as flinch as the rest of the table devolves into raucous applause.
‘There she is!’ a man at the head of the table says, grinning broadly. ‘The mastermind behind tonight’s menu.’
I feel my cheeks start to warm as I approach the table. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’
‘Enjoyed is an understatement, my dear,’ says a woman with a lofty kind of accent. ‘This was truly divine. Even Alexander managed a smile eating his plate.’
Everyone laughs and several heads swivel towards the manat the furthest end of the table. He looks up just as I glance in his direction, and my heart skips a beat.
This man, this Alexander, might just be the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life.
Warm, tanned skin; short, dark hair with a subtle hint of curls; an impossibly chiselled jawline and a sprinkle of a beard that somehow manages to straddle the line between scruffy and groomed in an effortless kind of way.
Damn.
I think I go a little weak at the knees.
His dark eyes settle on me for a long moment and then he glances away, back to glaring at his plate like it’s the source of all wrongs in the universe.
‘And what was your name again?’ one of the guests asks, dragging my attention away from Alexander.
‘Noelle,’ I say. ‘Noelle Jones.’
This guest tips their champagne flute towards me and everyone around the table, bar Alexander, quickly follows suit. ‘Now, why do I feel like this isn’t going to be the last time I hear your name?’
‘She’ll have her own restaurant by this time next year,’ someone chimes in.
I laugh awkwardly and try to squash down the sudden and strange feeling of failure that starts to well up inside me. ‘Maybe not by next year, but yes, I suppose that’s the dream.’
Gareth claps his hands suddenly, apparently eager to moveon from any conversation about me leaving The Avalon anytime soon. ‘Shall we move on to dessert?’
The guests all cheer and coo as the wait staff start setting down the puddings, flambéing them one by one. I try to focus on the warm, golden flames dancing around the table and the look of pure joy on the guests’ faces, but something snatches my attention away.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see Alexander lift his head to shoot me a curious glance, but when I look back in his direction, he’s back to glaring at his plate again.
FROM:[email protected]
DATE:25 December 05.45am
SUBJECT:Business query
Dear Noelle,
I hope this email finds you well.
My name is Roland Reynolds and I’m sending this email on behalf of Alexander Hoxton, CEO and founder of HoxTech. He recently attended a meal you prepared and was thoroughly impressed with the quality of your work.
We would like to enquire as to whether you have any experience working as a personal chef, or ifthis is something you might be interested in looking into? Mr Hoxton is greatly interested in hiring your services and would like to discuss the matter further with you at a time of your convenience.
Please let me know your availability, and I hope you are enjoying your Christmas.
Kind regards,
Roland Reynolds
