Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Excitement flooded through me, and its surge was so strong, I couldn’t stand still. I paced aimlessly in the kitchen as my thoughts raced, already coming up with ideas for the starter course.
“Do you want the job?” Colin asked.
Of course I wanted it, but my pacing came to an abrupt halt. “Are you sure you want me? I haven’t done anything like this before.”
They were taking a big risk with their company by hiring me, a total unknown.
He made a sound like my question amused him. “Come on, Syd. You’re good at everything you do. I’m sure you’ll crush it.” He paused, and uncertainty stole into his voice. “Unless you don’t think you can?”
“No, I can,” I blurted, not wanting him to have any doubt.
We had a private room at the restaurant where I worked and there’d been plenty of times I’d helped get fifty plates to the window at once. This event wouldn’t be quite the same, but I felt confident I could pull it off—especially if I convinced Diego to help me.
“Okay, great.” Colin sounded relieved. “I’ll put you in touch with the restaurant so you can get product ordered.”
We spent the next few minutes going over the rest of the details such as budget and location, but when I asked who the VIPs were, he told me he wasn’t allowed to say. He promised he’d email me the contract and dietary restrictions as soon as we were done talking, and it wasn’t until we’d hung up that I realized what had happened.
Was this what Preston had meant when he said he had something for me?
I stared at the phone I was still clutching in my hand and considered texting him. But I was embarrassed I’d ignored him, especially after he’d been the one to recommend me for this amazing opportunity. When their chef had cancelled on them, was that the first time he’d thought about me?
Or were his thoughts always on me, like mine were on him? Even when I was trying to move on, trying to be good, he dominated my mind.
God, I should have asked Colin if Preston was going to be at the dinner. I figured he would be, but maybe I could stay hidden in the kitchen and avoid him altogether. I could handle executing a flawless three-course meal for forty VIPs far better than seeing the man I loved again.
It was too painful a reminder of what I’d lost.
I’d never eaten at The Treehouse restaurant before. The whole place had a farm-to-table vibe, but upscale, with elegant booths and modern fixtures. It didn’t match my Italian-themed menu much, but if I did my job right, my food would be the focus and not the décor.
I’d gone over my prep list a million times in my head before meeting Diego at the front of The Treehouse. He took the two trays of tiramisu I’d prepared at home from my arms and gave me an excited smile before we turned our attention to the front door. The restaurant manager was waiting inside, and he gave us a quick tour of the kitchen and introduced us to the staff as they arrived.
I ignored the way he defaulted to Diego being the head chef. The guy spoke more to him than me, but because we only had two hours to service and a ton to do, I let it slide. I set my personalized knife bag on the prep table and tried not think about the man who’d given it to me.
For the main course, I’d gone with the dish I was the most confident in—my ravioli recipe. The bulk of the pasta would be filled with lobster, but we’d also fill some with mushrooms for the vegetarian guests. I went straight into making the dough since it would need time to rest, while Diego began cooking the lobsters because the meat needed to be cooked and cooled before we could create the filling.
Time went so fast, I joked to Diego I didn’t even have time to sweat, although the kitchen was hotter than I was used to. I’d worn my nicest chef jacket—meaning my only one that didn’t have any stains, but it was a thicker fabric and didn’t breathe as well as my others.
We worked seamlessly as a team, prepping what seemed like endless trays of raviolis, but I wanted to make sure we had plenty of overage. And as soon as they were done and stored in the walk-in cooler, we shifted to the prosciutto, fig, and goat cheese truffles for the first course.
Fifteen minutes before we needed to start plating, I ticked the last item off my checklist. We were slightly behind, but it wasn’t terrible, and honestly—with everything we’d had to do, it felt like a win. Diego and I came to a consensus on how to present the little truffles alongside the salad, and then we sampled the dish to make sure the balance was right.