It was rare that Aidan was at a loss for words. This was one of those moments. He truly hadn’t expected Francesca to announce that she was up for the prestigious sommelier’s award. At her age, no less. That was an incredibly amazing feat. She must be damn good at her job.
What he didn’t understand is why Felicity hadn’t told him. He would have agreed to the job, regardless of whether or not he had carte blanche of the menu choices. He supposed she wouldn’t have known how desperate he was to take a position and bring in some income after being fired. Because no one knew the split due to “creative differences” was really him being fired. He needed this job to go well so he’d be able to land a more permanent position back in LA.
Now, he and Francesca were at odds. Their current goals were in opposition to each other. For him to succeed, she wouldn’t. And vice versa. He couldn’t pull off an artist in residency menu and assist Francesca in achieving her goal of winning the award. The fact was that the wine world was very traditional. The judges most likely expected traditional food to accompany the wine selections. Food that was elegant, refined, and understated. Not his wild fusion of flavors, inspired from his Mexican mother’s cooking.
Either he failed or Francesca did. Neither was a palatable option. With a sigh, he crossed his arms and watched Francesca tap on the screen of her tablet. He thought he saw the glistening of tears in her eyes before she cast them downward to determinedly focus on the screen. He hated that she was upset. That he was a part of the reason. He couldn’t change who he was or the food he created. He was a celebrity chef who created a brand based on eclectic, Latin cuisine. On his larger-than-life personality that matched the flavorful food. He was the exact opposite of what Francesca needed.
He should be used to that feeling by now. Being the black sheep of any situation. Never wanted for more than his celebrity status or a temporary fling. Aidan was never what anyone needed.
Too late to back out now. He was committed and needed the money. And the ability to avoid the LA food scene while his image recovered. If it recovered. His publicist—and yes a celebrity chef needed a publicist—had warned him that his reputation may never be the same. That he may never work in LA again.
Chateau Felicity was his only hope of salvaging what was left of his career. A good run in Harmony, CA, with no drama might be enough to reassure potential employers that he was capable of running a tight kitchen without being a PR nightmare. While he felt for Francesca, he couldn’t be the person—the chef—she needed and she’d have to adapt. There was plenty of time in the future for her to win that award. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be this year.
“Here are some options,” she said, as she tilted the screen to face him. He saw several images of wine bottles in a virtual lazy Susan. He wasn’t as familiar with the offerings from this vineyard as he should be, given he was the executive chef for the next few weeks. The LA restaurant scene was fickle and tended towards larger and more well-known labels. Chateau Felicity catered to a niche market which was typically too refined for the types of establishments that employed Aidan.
Francesca scrolled through the virtual carousel of wine, giving flavor profiles as she went. “For your mole sauce, we have a Zinfandel or Malbec that would pair nicely. For your—” She pulled his paper in front of her with a frown. “—fish tacos, I would recommend a Sauvignon Blanc.” Her expression looked as if she’d eaten a lemon. Aidan empathized. She’d gone from discussing duck à l’orange and filet mignon and was now attempting to pair her wine with common street food.
Elevated common street food, but street food all the same. He knew he did his food a disservice not to emphasize that the complex flavor profiles and layered dishes went well beyond what you’d find in the average food truck, even though that was how he got his start in the business. He wasn’t even a classically-trained chef.
“That sounds good to me,” he agreed instead. No sense trying to convince Francesca his food was worthy of her wine. He needed to show her.
She slid off the stool and went to the racks of wine that lined the walls of the small space. Without even referencing the location from her database, she slid her fingers along the racks until she pulled out the bottles she wanted.
For a moment, Aidan wondered what those long, slim fingers would feel like sliding along his skin. She moved with a grace not usually associated with a woman her age— which couldn’t be more than very early twenties. Aidan shook himself out of his thoughts. She was too young for him. Plus, she seemed to actively hate him. Either way, she wasn’t for him.
The gentle thud of bottles hitting the wooden table in front of him brought him back to reality. Francesca had placed three bottles in front of him, then reached to retrieve tasting glasses.
“Wait.” Francesca’s head snapped up at his command.
Aidan expected her eyes to flair with anger, but instead he was met with desire. She quickly lowered her gaze as her cheeks flushed prettily. Francesca was attracted to him.
He shouldn’t be excited about that—he should shut it down. But the fact was, it thrilled him. She was watching him again, waiting for him to issue his next statement. Tension hung in the air between them and he used every ounce of willpower at his disposal to choke back the thing he wanted most. To reach across the table, wrap a fistful of hair around his fist, and kiss the hell out of her.
Instead, he took a deep breath, then continued. “This will be easier if we pair it with my food.” His voice sounded as if it had run over gravel on the way out of his mouth. He may as well have proposed taking her to bed for the shocked look on her face.
“Your food,” she replied, sounding dazed. “That will take time we don’t really have. We could start with—”
Aidan cut her off. “I was doing a practice run with the kitchen staff earlier. I can bring you samples right now.” He stood up and walked out the room, up the stairs, and didn’t stop until he was standing outside the front doors of the restaurant. The day was chilly, thankfully, and Aidan took large gulps of air as he willed himself to calm down. Being in such a small space with Francesca had stirred unexpected and unwelcome feelings.
He’d been fired from his last job for sleeping with the boss’s daughter. There was no way he would give into temptation and sleep with his boss’s sister. No matter how much he was tempted.