Aha! Perfect timing. Although, seriously, does no one sleep around here?
‘Sky wants to hang out so it looks like I’ll have to take a rain check on the kitchen,’ I said chirpily.
‘No way.’ Cal laughed. ‘That’s what got you in trouble in the first place. You can’t just drop everything for Skylar Chase. Say you’re busy. She’ll understand and I’m sure she won’t be heartbroken at missing your company.’
‘But –’
‘No buts,’ Cal said sternly. ‘It was generous of Chef to allow us to shadow him for the day. We’re not cancelling. And if you try to escape then our deal is off and you can kiss goodbye to Ethan Duke and the Christmas Ball. Didn’t you hear what your mum said? She’s genuinely impressed with you. Your plan is working.’
I sighed. There was nothing worse than Cal Weston being right.
Hey, would have loved to but I’m helping out in the kitchen today. I’m so sorry!
Sounds fun! Can I join?
‘I guess we can ask Chef,’ Cal said, when I showed him the message, looking as surprised as I felt at her question. Of all the things in London that a famous pop star could do on a day off, hanging out with two younger teenagers in a hotel kitchen was a peculiar option. But, then again, Skylar Chase wasn’t your average pop star.
When we got to the kitchen, I couldn’t believe how busy it was. Everywhere you looked, someone was cooking, preparing any kind of breakfast food you can think of, from bacon and eggs, to pastries and fresh fruit salads. I waved at Sasha who was whisking scrambled eggs by one of the stoves. She grinned broadly at me.
‘Right, my pretties,’ Chef said, bustling over to us and moving us out of the way of the immaculately dressed waiters who were coming in to take trays of food up into the dining room. ‘You stand over here and watch the magic happen.’
‘How long have you been here?’ I asked, taking in all the activity.
‘A while,’ Chef said, patting one of his cooks on the back as we passed him arranging almonds on a croissant with great precision.
‘And it’s like this every day?’
‘Yes, of course.’ He put his hands on his hips. ‘How do you think breakfast gets on the table? By elves?’
‘I just didn’t really think about it.’
‘And why doesn’t that surprise me?’ he said, sharing a knowing look with Cal. ‘The menus take a lot of hard work. I have to create new dishes, search for the right suppliers, hunt down the perfect produce.’ Chef smiled. ‘I love it, of course.’
‘You don’t just have a set menu?’ I asked, watching one of his cooks slide some poached eggs so cautiously on to a plate, you’d think he was handling priceless diamonds.
‘It changes day to day –’
‘Day to day?’ I repeated, astonished.
‘Of course.’ Chef shrugged, as though that was normal. ‘The menu is seasonal so it depends on what we have each day. We have a few staple dishes but sometimes the catch isn’t what we were expecting –’
‘Catch?’
‘Fish,’ Cal explained, sneaking a pastry.
‘So,’ I said slowly, working this all out in my brain, ‘the fisherman might not have caught the right fish?’
‘In which case, the menu changes and I can add a dish or come up with a new recipe depending on what he has caught.’ Chef nodded.
‘Isn’t that difficult?’
Chef?’s eyes lit up. ‘Absolutely! But I love coming up with new recipes; that is my passion. I like a challenge.’
‘Chef gets his inspiration from everywhere,’ Cal added. ‘He’s been inspired by people, music and sometimes even architecture.’
‘He’s right,’ Chef insisted, when I shook my head in disbelief.
‘Architecture can inspire . . . a new recipe? How is that even possible?’
