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“Times up!” I say as soon as I cross the threshold of the kitchen.
“Yes, Chef,” I am pleased to see that everyone managed to finish their meals, and now they can leave the kitchen.
“You all have done a fabulous job. You can head out to the dining room to see your family before dinner is served, then go down to the staff kitchen.”
Once they leave, I get to work transferring the plates onto the color-coded chargers, all of the food looks amazing, and I am sure tonight will be a success. The doors open just in time for the servers to begin taking the food out.
The night was a complete success, just like I thought it would be. All the food was amazing, and it was almost a three-way tie, but Quin edged out just enough to take the head chef title, Adrian took second place, and Praise came in at a close third. They all won with less than a one-point margin. Quin will be moving his family so that he can work with a world-famous chef, Adrian will be working with another Michelin-level chef, and Praise requested to cook under me at the restaurant.
I wasn’t planning on taking a protégé, and technically I am not a chef; I am a glorified cook. I have never gone to culinary school. I started cooking as a child with my father, and then my mom for fun, and I made one statement, and the next thing I knew, I was cooking all the time with my mother. The older I got, the more serious I became about cooking and honing my skills, and being in the military made it easy for me to learn about different foods, ingredients, seasonings, and cooking styles.
My unit became my guinea pigs, and eventually my superiors and I were requested to cook for official events. That was when I realized I did not want to cook professionally, but you don’t say no to a three-star general; you suck it up and cook. Once I came home, my family took on the guinea pig role, as did the crew of Gideon Properties, and somehow, my name got around, and now I am teaching others to cook and getting ready to take on a protégé.
I am exhausted from two nights in a row and cleaning and breaking down the kitchen afterward. I was able to drag myself into the house at the ass crack of dawn, only to collapse face-first in bed. But I have dinner tonight with Parker, and I hate breaking my word, so regardless of how tired I am, I will cook for her tonight. The hot water feels amazing on my tired back, but I know I am going to make an appointment for a deep tissue massage immediately. All black is the look for tonight, black slacks and dress shirt with my specially made, non-slip black chef shoes. My hair is loose, but I know I’ll end up bunning it once I begin cooking. I grab my black leather apron, knife kit, and backpack and head into the kitchen.
“And where are you going looking like that?” Joyce says when I catch her rummaging around in my refrigerator.
“The better question is, why are you practically inside my refrigerator, and where is your husband?”
“He’s someplace minding his business.”
“You are my business, Joy. I told you I was coming, but you couldn’t wait to get up here to see if Jaasiel had food you could steal,” he says, pulling her out of myArtic Air.
“I can admit I was hoping for a morsel or two of whatever he concocted, but he’s on his way out, I guess,” she says, looking at me.
“Where are you going?” Joseph asks.
“Last I checked, I was grown.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I am your older brother,” he scoffs, completely not caring that I am indeed a grown man.
“I have another dinner to cook for if you must know,” answering his question without giving away any real information. For some reason, I do not want to share Parker with my family yet. There are a few unanswered questions, and I am not sure if anything will become of us.Yeah, right,my mind immediately rebuffs that thought.
“Hmmp, we’ll get into that at another time,” he says, cutting his eyes at his wife. And I don’t know why it matters, he’s going to tell her anyways; he doesn't keep things from his wife. “Besides, we wanted to talk to you about something else,” he says, cutting off whatever was about to come out of Joyce’s mouth.
“What?” I ask him to hurry up, so I can leave. The sooner I get there and cook, the sooner I can come home and actually get some rest.
“Praise,” Joyce says before her husband can cut her off again.
“What about her?” my attention fully captured.
“What’s her story?” Joseph asks.
“I don’t really know outside of what is on the application. It wasn’t until the other day that I found out she did not have family here. Why, what happened?”
“I couldn’t get her off my mind. I can’t get past the feeling that she needs help, that she needs us. I spent a lot of time in shelters, and she screams shelter, and she seems really young, too,” Joyce says.
“Um, yeah, she’s only nineteen. Do you really think she is in a shelter?”
“I’d bet Solo’s money on it,” she says.
“That’s your money too, love,” he says, not worried at all.
“Either way,” she says, rolling her eyes at Joseph, “I am sure there is more going on with her, and since she is going to be your protégé, we thought that perhaps you can bring her around the family so we can get to know her better. If I am wrong, then it shouldn’t be a big deal, and if I am not, she’ll know we’re here to help.”
“That makes sense and should be pretty easy to do. I’ll work on it.” I tell them as I grab my keys to leave.
“You’re in a hurry,” Joyce says, looking at me from head to toe, her eyes narrowing in on me.
