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Working with this woman is like drinking a little bit of poison every day.
And just so you don’t build a bit of resistance to it, she adds fresh ingredients to it every night. Every fucking night since day one. Since she hired me, and my life has never been the same for more than one reason. But today, I could see more darkness in those moss-green eyes. The witch eyes.
Something happened, and as usual, we are serving as her therapy.
If I didn’t love cooking as much as I do and didn’t think Conte de fée was the best place to work at, I’d be long gone. I get job offers daily, but no one in this city pays like Kira Clark does. No one has better benefits for her employees and their families while working you to death. No one teaches you better than her while making sure you are aware of what a helpless idiot you are.
And that is so boggling about Kira-Ursula-Clark.
Because also, no one else pisses me off as much as she does. It’s a talent, really! I am the most level-headed person in the world. Hell, I’ve been through some hellish life tests recently and never snapped. Yet, I am this close—this close—to giving that woman a piece of my mind. And I’m not sure she’s ready for that wake-up call.
Or that I am, for that matter, because five years later, and I am not even sure what exactly pisses me off so bad. How gorgeous she is and that I could never fucking touch her or look at her that way, or how someone so beautiful and talented could be so ruthless, cold, heartless, and unfeeling?
No, scratch that, she’s feeling, alright…animosity towards me.
What in the world have I ever done to deserve her undivided attention is beyond me, but here we are, my fifth year working for Kira and not a day goes by without her making a snark remark about my work. If I’m so horrible, why doesn’t she just fire me?
No, that woman gets off on torture first with her taunting body and flaming red hair I’d like to wrap around my fist on a daily basis and then with her attitude and crude words. She gets off on eating little puppies for breakfast, drinking their blood as her midday smoothie, and chomping on their bones for dinner. And no, I am not being ridiculous!
“Vas,” one of the hosts calls out my name. “Where is my order?” I shake off the thoughts of my boss as much as I can andget back to work, sliding three of the plates his way and moving on to the next ones.
This is what I love to do, and I just need to remind myself that dealing with Kira Clark is a byproduct of it. And really, it’s an honor to work with her even if she is the real Ursula of the Seas.
Kira won her first culinary award at seventeen and then every award possible afterward as the years went by. Her name is known in every corner and crack. She is a judge on one of the best culinary shows and a goddess of molecular kitchen. Plus, to this day, no one can beat her taste sensors. That woman can name anything you put in her mouth.
No, no.No! I will not think about that. I will not. Even if I could, I’d stay away from her mouth and other body parts as far as I could. Because the chances my dick would fall off from her ice are very high. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Vassar.Denial has been your best friend for the past five years.
But my life is already full with one woman, and it’s more than enough for me. Too much even.
And it’s not like Kira would ever see me as a man. No, to her, I am her Sous-chef who basically runs her kitchen while also serving as her abuse toy.
But I won’t quit.
I love it here because, besides the great pay and a world-renowned chef, this restaurant is alive.
It’s never empty, never sad.
Conte de fée has three official floors where guests can dine, and each one is set up in a different design and atmosphere and has its own menu list. First is our fairytale land, with live trees planted right inside the restaurant, with fairy-type lights covering them and many more floating in the air. Some seats are suspended from the air like swings, while others are meant to be a part of a Disney movie set. This is the floor where we servetraditional European cuisine but with a modern, molecular twist to them.
That’s what Kira Clark is known best for, after all. To pair the impossible. To create something new from old and broken.
The middle floor is the dark den, as I call it. It’s the moodiest of floors with its exposed brick, personal fireplaces at each table, and dark ambiance. We serve American food here, but once again, nothing is so simple, and we incorporated so many molecular tricks that you wouldn’t believe you were eating a regular New York steak.
The last floor is Angel Heaven, and it is exactly that with whites, creams, glass, marble, and top-notch crystal polishes. The main purpose of this area is for dessert delicacies. We offer over twenty positions to choose from, and yes, you guessed it, it is not your simple good old cakes. Nope.
Airy mousse creations with multilayered goodness inside, as well as tarts, macaroon cakes, and pies that don’t look like pies, are all here. Thankfully, I don’t oversee that particular floor as my hands are full with first and second as it is. But each day brings new challenges, and I thrive in that environment.
The more guests, the better. The more dishes to prepare, the higher my adrenaline levels spike up.
A place for the release of all that is wrong in my life.
This is the place where I am in control.
It is the only place in my life where I can be confident and sure of myself. I am in the known even if the variables change from dinner to dinner because each night, I am confident in the dishes I put out. I am confident in the level of preparation and execution.
Here, in this kitchen, I am it. And we all know it. Even my crabby, talented, hot-as-sin boss does since she obviously hasn’t fired me yet.
So yes, I’ll take a few broken plates over the mess outside these doors…
