AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The chatter of the room buzzed in the background while she concentrated on her task. She measured out the ingredients as the recipe called for and cursed when the salt spilled all over the counter. Shouldn’t there be a smaller spout for measuring tiny amounts like the necessary one-third of a teaspoon? She looked up at the children. Damn! They had poured the salt into their palms and sprinkled it into the mixture. But how did they know the right amount?
When the ingredients were mixed she poured the milk into the pan. The recipe said to consistently stir the sauce. How was she supposed to do that and watch over a pot of boiling water?
Big hands slid around her waist and a chin rested on her shoulder. She gasped, and immediately recognized Jack’s sexy scent.
“You’re trying to distract me.”
“How are we doing here?” he asked, scrutinizing her progress.
She sighed. The mixture didn’t look like the picture. “It’s a mess.”
“Looks perfect to me.”
She glanced at the workstations and caught the glare of the young girl whose eyes narrowed and one side of her lips curved up in a sneer. She was getting the stink-eye from a teenage girl. She didn’t even get evil looks from girls when she was in high school. “Does everyone have their béchamel sauce ready?” he asked as he walked away.
Five heads nodded in unison. They were beating her.
“Good. By now your water should be boiling.” He walked around the stations and peeked into each pot. “Let’s get the macaroni started.”
They all poured the bag of macaroni into the pots.
“Don’t forget to salt your water.”
Some of the kids scrambled to add the salt, and others were already on the ball. Sterling was lagging behind. Wrestling with the spout on the box, it came loose and once again, salt spilled all over her workstation. Son of a…
“We’re looking for al dente pasta,” Jack instructed. “Remember this has to go in the oven, so if you cook the pasta too much it will come out mushy and that makes for some gross mac and cheese.”
Al dente. She knew that term, yet she never managed to achieve it. Her pasta was always too hard or too soft.
“We’re using dried pasta so it should take about ten minutes. While the water is boiling, grab your ramekin. We don’t want the food to stick, so we’re going to coat the glass with some butter.”
Sterling did as instructed. She had to admit it was much easier to cook when you had your own personal chef telling you what to do, but she was still sucking. When the pasta was drained she slowly poured it into a bowl and added the béchamel.
“At this point, you
want to make sure all of the pasta is coated with the sauce. Now, if you wanted to get creative, you could start adding things to the mixture. Maybe, bacon?”
He walked around the room as he spoke watching over the children. “Pour your mixture into the ramekin. Top it with the bread crumbs. You’re going to cut off a pat of butter and break it up, leaving dollops on top of the bread crumbs around the top.”
She was impressed with herself. It looked a little…homemade, but after following Jack’s instructions, she placed her dish into the oven.
“Excellent work, everyone. That will take about twenty minutes. Let’s clean up.”
Groans filled the room. Guess these teenagers liked cooking but not the cleanup that accompanied it. This was her favorite part. She watched Jack float around the room laughing and joking with the kids, but never once offering to help. He was a hard-ass.
“I don’t see you cleaning, Sterling Andrews.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You really are full of surprises, Jack Vaughn.”
“Impressed?” He leaned his hip against the counter.
She expected a fancy night out on the town, not an intimate glimpse into his private life. A fling didn’t usually entail revelations this big. Maybe she wasn’t the only one liking the idea of this becoming more than just casual. But she knew the score. In just over a week he’d be gone.
“Of course I’m impressed. These kids love you. They listen to you and respect you.”
“They’re great kids. Just misunderstood.” He looked around the room with a soft smile. “Emmett,” Jack pointed to the kid with the skullcap, “lives in an independent living home. He can come and go as he pleases. In another year he’ll be ready to work in a restaurant. I think Cole would be more than willing to take him on. The rest of them live with foster parents.”
“You give them jobs?”
