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Coming home and stepping into my kitchen never fails to fill me with pure joy. The moment I put my chef’s apron on, the rest of the world falls away.
Tonight, I put a dish on the special’s menu I learned to make while in France, but I can’t concentrate. The way Emma ran from the plane keeps playing over and over in my head. I should’ve gone after her. Don’t get me wrong, I tried, but I waited ten seconds too long, and by the time I got off the plane, she was gone.
How am I going to track her down now? I don’t even know where she lives. Trout Creek is a small town, but not small enough to ring every doorbell until I find her.
“Boss, watch out.” Emile, one of my sous-chefs, grabs my pot from the stove. “This was about to burn.” He eyes me with concern. “Are you okay?”
I blink myself back to reality. “Thanks for saving this. I’m fine. Just jetlagged, I guess.”
He nods in understanding. “Let me know if you need my help.”
I try to keep my head in the game and manage to do so until the evening is in full swing. Steaming hot dishes are going out of the kitchen, with empty ones being brought back at a nice pace.
I peek through the swinging doors and sigh. A full restaurant with nothing but happy customers is what makes me thrive and feel alive.
For the next couple of hours, I lose myself in my work until one of the waiters says someone wants to compliment me.
I wipe my hands on my apron and head out the kitchen doors to the table of an older couple. “Good evening,” I tell them.
The woman’s face lights up with a smile. “We hope we’re not inconveniencing you by calling you away from your stove. The food was so exquisite that we wanted to thank you in person.”
Her husband nods. “It was superb.”
I smile at the couple and start to thank them for their compliments when a familiar laugh catches my attention. My head leads a life of its own as it swivels toward the sound. For a second or two, my heart stops beating.
It’s her. Right there at the table against the far-left wall where we always put couples on first or second dates because it’s close enough to the entrance for a quick getaway but still far enough to get plenty of privacy.
What is she doing here? And who is that guy she’s with? He looks nothing like her type. Not that she told me what her type is, but I can only imagine it’s not stiff and antique.
“Sir?”
I focus my attention back on the couple in front of me. “Sorry about that. I was just thinking about which dessert I’d offer you guys. On the house.”
The woman smiles. “Seriously?” She nudges her husband. “Did you hear that, George? Free dessert! I told you coming here for our anniversary was a great decision.”
“How about a big slice of strawberry cheesecake topped with our homemade raspberry coulis?” I offer.
They nod. “Sounds fantastic.”
I give them a parting smile and march back to the kitchen. The doors swing closed behind me, and I punch a fist on the kitchen counter.
“Is everything okay, boss?” Rick, another one of my sous-chefs, asks. “Did someone not like their food?”
I shake my head. “Everyone loves the food. It’s nothing like that. It’s...personal.”
It takes every last shred of self-containment I have not to march over there and shove her date out of his chair. I can’t exactly blame him for going out with an amazing girl like Emma. I just wish it were me doing the honors.
The next hour is a blur. When one of my waiters calls me with a request to greet another customer, I’m relieved to get a distraction.
“Table seven,” he says.
I stop in my tracks. That’s Emma’s table.
I take a deep breath in and put my game face on.
While I’m walking toward them, the whole world seems to stop spinning. I can only see the back of her head, but images of me cupping that neck and tugging on her long hair while I kiss her senseless swirl in front of me.
“Good evening,” I say in the most professional way I can muster.
Emma’s head whips up, her eyes growing big and round. Fuck, how I want to kiss her everywhere.
“Are you the chef?” her date asks.
I nod while still looking at Emma. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her.
“Good. I’m Kip, attorney-at-law. You might’ve heard of me.”
I frown. “Where would I have heard of you?”
He shrugs, looking all smug. “You know, through the grapevine. Anyway, I wanted to tell you the food was great, except for the bass. I thought it was too garlicky. Don’t you agree, Emma?”
She looks taken aback. “Actually, I didn’t mind. The menu stated the fish would be served with a lemon and garlic sauce, so I thought it was perfect.”
He scoffs. “Come on. You must realize that too much is too much. There’s garlic, and then there’s an overload of it.”
I ball my hands into fists. What’s this guy’s problem? I mean, fine if he thinks the fish was too garlicky, but don’t go putting words into Emma’s mouth.
“I’m sorry, Kip, I don’t agree.”
“Dumb girl.” He curses under his breath.
I lose it. “I suggest you leave, Sir. We’ll cover the bill. Just go.”
“What? You can’t throw me out because I don’t like your sauce.”
I shake my head. “Of course not. I’m throwing you out because you called your date dumb. That’s not how you treat a woman.”
His jaw drops and he stares at me with an incredulous look on his stupid face. “That’s not legal.”
Wow. This guy’s testing my patience. I cross my arms over my chest. “Punching someone in the face because he’s disrespectful to a woman isn’t legal either, yet here I am, ready to do exactly that.”
His eyes flick to my muscled arms, and his jaw tightens. He throws his napkin down, then shoves his chair back. “Don’t think I won’t write a negative Yelp review. People need to know what kind of place this is.”
“A place that respects women? Gosh, I’m scared already.”
His shoulder bumps into mine when he passes me. I let him walk away, then turn to Emma. “I’ll be right back. Please don’t go anywhere.”
“You’re not going to punch him, are you?”
Without replying, I go after Kip, who’s angrily putting on his coat on the sidewalk. I grab him by the collar, and he shrieks like a child. “If you ever come near Emma again, I’ll make you regret it, okay? Don’t think I won’t.”
“Are you threatening me? I’ll sue you.”
I laugh. “Whatever, man. You’ll have to sue me from the hospital because I’m about to break your bones if you don’t leave.”
I tighten my grip on him, and he puts his hands in the air. “Fine, I’m gone, and I’ll never talk to Emma again. You can have her.”
“By the way, man, the reason you’re still single? Blatantly obvious. Try not to be a dick to people, and things will change for the better, although I won’t get my hopes up for someone like you to understand that.”
He flips me off before angrily marching away. I watch him until he’s rounded the corner. Good riddance.
I turn around and get back inside the restaurant, where I hope Emma is still waiting for me.