Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
He could tell the woman was on the verge of laughter, but stopped herself.
“Legend, don’t start your shit.” She cackled. “Sorry we put you in this quandary, but I’m so grateful you’re willing to do this for us. We’re all in a bind, so let’s make the best of it.”
“Don’t try to change the subject. Axel told me you had a bunch of single, good-looking friends and cousins. Their asses sure aren’t at your house today. What happened? Did they enter the witness protection program?” He waved angrily towards the patio doors, then slammed a tub of butter on the counter.
“A lot of people I invited couldn’t make it, and Chloe isn’t bad looking. She just has an unusual style.”
“Is that what they call lookin’ like a sack of cat balls now?”
“Anyway, we both know all you want to do is smash and dash. I’ve heard about your reputation, and I have overheard your comments about women when you’ve talked to Axel on the phone.” She looked him up and down, judgment dripping off her gaze. “My friends aren’t prostitutes.”
“And I don’t want a prostitute, because I’m not payin’ for shit. I ain’t no trick, and I ain’t no simp. But your husband is going to pay me for this. That’s for damn sure. All right.” He clapped his hands, ready to get serious. “Cut up some onion real fine, baby. Celery, too. I’ll do the potatoes, then we gotta boil ’em.”
“Cool. I got it.” She grabbed a couple big knives from a drawer, then a few cutting boards and bowls, and set them on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, and I need better work conditions than this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Turn that aggravating elevator music off, and put on Jamie Ray’s, ‘COWBOY GANGSTA!’ Let’s GOOO!
Chapter Three
“Damn that was good! I told you!” Axel bragged, as if he had been the one soaked in sweat, slaving over hot coals. People lounged around, clearly happy and satiated. Smiles on their faces, drowning in food comas. Legend had barbecue stains on his new white shirt, but now that he was on his third beer, he secretly enjoyed all the compliments he received about his cooking.
Melanie sauntered over, wearing little of nothing. He supposed she was trying to catch a new man, but he was certain she too was sadly disappointed to see nothing more than some guys who looked like their names may have been Otis Sr., or teenage boys that tried to shoot their shot at her.
“Legend has always been able to cook.” His sister bounced over, licking her fingers.
English sat under the umbrella, finishing her burger.
“Legend, have you ever thought about going to cooking school?” English said around a mouthful.
“What I need to go to cookin’ school for? I already know how to cook.” He gulped his beer.
“I know, but you get the necessary credentials and learn things you may not know. Kind of like a beautician. Most of the ones I know already knew how to do hair, but that way, they can legally do it and even open their own shop if they wish.”
He shrugged. “Nah, I never thought about it. I don’t think one can make a good career from that.”
“I know you’ve heard of Alain Ducasse, and Emeril Lagasse.”
“Yeah. Who hasn’t? But most cooks don’t make it to their level.”
“It can actually be quite lucrative. It’s a competitive field, so I understand what you’re getting at, but you really do have something, Legend. You say you never considered culinary school? Well, maybe you should, because it was incredible how you pulled this off. The food tastes like it took several hours, instead of just one, and you presented the food so nicely on the plates. You have a real knack for this. I’m not exaggerating when I say these burgers taste like the expensive twenty-dollar ones from fancy restaurants. This is incredible.”
“English, I told my brother when we was kids that he could become one of those famous chefs at a fancy hotel or somethin’. Just like you said. He is so good at it. He learned because our mama can’t cook nothing but boxed macaroni and cheese, and Legend is greedy and wanted some good food. Mama told him to make it himself, so he did.” Melanie plopped down beside English, a wine cooler in hand.
A few people thanked him for the food on their way out. Thankfully, English’s Care-Bear-colored cousin left him the hell alone—of course, after shooting him the stink eye for the better part of the night.
As he finished off his beer and made to hunt Axel down to get his money, English saddled up beside him. She looked real serious as she stared into his eyes.
“Legend, I know I’ve already thanked you, but I’m thanking you again. Please consider what I said. You outdid yourself! You really do have a precious gift. I watched you dump paprika, dill, dried mustard, parsley, mix things together to create flavors that just explode in one’s mouth. You combined some things I would have never even considered. You just know naturally what to do. This was astonishingly good.” She kissed his cheek, then walked back into the house.