The Billionaire Chef

by Kee Patterbee

  The Billionaire Chef

  Kee Patterbee

  Twice By Lightning

  Twice By Lightning LLC

  Copyright © 2014- UPDATED 2019

  http://KeePatterbee.com

  This book was formally published as: The Gourmet The Kept Diamonds in the Kitchen. It has been enhanced and edited with a new name and cover.

  The right of Kee Patterbee to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Twice by Lightning LLC, Conyers Georgia.

  Cover design by Adrianna Vines

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Author Letter

  Can you help me out?

  Foreword

  You can write me at mailto:kee@keepatterbee.com or visit me on the web at Kee Patterbee.com.

  I have a Patterbee Readers Group on Facebook should you want to join. Look at the website for FACEBOOK GROUP to get access to that.

  Can I tell you a new story? A Mystery to be exact ,

  My Story is where you want to plug in. Click the “My Story” link to go straight to the place.

  Prologue

  Six Months later

  Such an odd sensation. He never imagined it would be like this. Flying felt so different than what he expected. But then again, it was not as if that were what he experienced at the moment. No. This was not the fulfillment of one of man’s greatest dreams. This was the acting out of one of the great fears.

  Falling.

  He found it strange the things that flowed through his mind while doing so. He recalled being told one thinks of one’s past. A first memory. The odd early birthday party. Giggling as a child. Laughing as a boy. A first kiss. The moment you met her. The one her. The moment you knew.

  He recalled none of this except in reference to what he had been told. What did make its way into his head was how odd things appeared as he passed them by. The fourth-floor balcony stretched back, shrinking away as the third came into view. The odd expression on the faces of the couple that stood on each landing. Then the second as it too shrunk back into the late afternoon’s light. Thereafter, things slowed some to him.

  Having passed the second floor, the only thing left was the great below. The cold, hard concrete. Perhaps a parked vehicle. Or heaven help them, an unfortunate wandering soul.

  Out of my hands, he thought.

  Crunch.

  It sounded like celery being twisted. Under a different circumstance, he might have found it amusing. At present, he found the sound of ribs giving way painful. His arm and leg let go of similar sounding snaps. This followed by swish of liquid filled organs pushed to their limits. Then came a rattled sense of something. Of nothing. Of everything. His mind rambled and shambled along as the metal rooftop caved in beneath him, bending and screeching in protest at the arrival of the sudden invader. Fate made her choice. Car, he noted.

  Things came and went thereafter. Voices came and went. Rumblings of uncertainty. The wail of a siren, then faces. Two, both looking down. “Angels?” he questioned. Another pain in the arm. Doing what? Something slid around his neck. His mind flooded with questions.

  Then above the fray, a voice called. Familiar. Sweet. He managed to roll his eyes to one side. There he found the voice’s owner. And a new thought came to him. He needed to say something. To tell her. What was it again? Oh yes. The answer to the question she would surely ask.

  “Dahlia.”

  Then came the darkness.

  Chapter One

  1:30 PM. Four hours prior

  “Gresham,” Hannah Starvling said, her sea green eyes sparkling in the sun’s glow. She pointed to the outline of a small town on the island.

  While waiting for landing instructions, Hannah wavered between anxious and eager. She always wanted to give her paternal grandparents a magnificent vacation. Her attendance at The International Culinary Festival provided her an opportunity to do that. The trip also afforded her the chance to fly them up in her Piper Saratoga.

  Resting in the waters between the Canadian and US border, the town of Gresham belonged to the Thousand Islands chain. This was one of Hannah’s favorite places to visit for many reasons, among those being the annual event.

  “The hotel will send a car for us.”

  “Send a car?” Jayland ‘Papa Jay’ Starvling commented from the rear seat. “Fancy stuff, Sweetness.”

  “One of the perks of being a judge at one of the events this week,” Hannah said to her older passengers.

  The smile Papa Jay held lit up his face. He pointed out the window at the St. Lawrence River. “I can’t wait to get out on the water. Been forever since I’ve gone fishing. I may never go back.”

  “Hah! That’s a joke. You never even got to the car before worrying about someone breaking in. How many times have you already called Fred about Casper and Gigantor?” Sindee ‘Gran’ Starvling chided. She nudged Hannah. “Your grandpa, he’s a worry wart.”

  Papa Jay crossed his arms and gave a “humph” sound that made Hannah laugh. Her grandparents delighted her, even when tormenting each other. The two had been together for over 57 years to date. Each was dedicated to the other, remaining in love to this day. However, one might argue otherwise from the near constant verbal jabs tossed in one another’s direction.

  “All right, you two, do I need to land this plane?” joked Hannah.

  “Better than the alternative, I suppose,” Papa Jay cracked.

  Everyone laughed.

  Gran patted Hannah’s arm. “Well, regardless, I’m looking forward to spending time with my girl and catching up.”

  Hannah glanced over at her ‘Gran’ and back to ‘Papa Jay’ as she called them. The feisty seventy plus year old Starvling grandparents counted toward two of the most important people in her life. Both contributed a great deal to the individual she became, something she vowed never to forget.

  “I’m looking forward to it too, but remember, you don’t need to spend all your time with me. There’s plenty to do. The old town district is amazing, Gran. Lots of shops for you to hit.”

  “Well, so much for seeing my Sweetness,” Papa Jay said in a grumpy tone.

  Gran motioned toward Papa Jay. “Ignore him, dear. We are going to blow a bundle and have a good time.” She turned to Papa Jay. “We all are.”

  Not wanting him to feel left out, Hannah assured her grandfather. “I promise, Papa Jay, we’ll do some fishing. Gran, you’ll love the town. The locals are so nice. If you turn on that charm, I’ll bet you can make friends with one of them. In fact, Papa Jay, they might give you the heads up on the best spots to toss a
line out.”

  “So what kind of festival is this, Sweetness?” Papa Jay inquired.

  “It’s an international food festival. Do you remember my old friend Elias Babel?”

  Papa Jay scowled. “That fellow you went with at school, right? Broke your heart? That jackass?”

  “I do,” Gran exclaimed, “the French cutie with a nice butt. You should have married him.”

  Hannah shook her head. Gran had always tried to hook her up with someone, or she reminded Hannah about the ones she lost along the way.

  “Well, anyway, he’s coming and bringing some of his black truffles.”

  “Parisian chocolates? Ooh. Handsome and candy. You should hook up with him again.”

  “He’s married now. His black truffles are mushrooms, not chocolates. They’re considered a gourmet delicacy. He calls them his, Diamonds of the Kitchen.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame. Is he happy?”

  “Gran!”

  “Mushrooms? Diamonds? Why would anyone call fungi, the diamonds of the kitchen?” Papa Jay asked.

  “Because these are hands down one of the most expensive foods on earth. Many European countries swear by them, so as you can guess, every chef and his brother want them. Chefs use them for specialty cuisine.”

  “Lord, expensive fungus. I got fungus growing on my toes. Never heard of such, much less tasted one, other than the kind that goes on a burger.”

  “Well, you might get the chance. Elias always brings some of his personal stash to the show. My guess is they will be available at the private dinner for the participating guests of the event. Since I fit in that category, I’m pretty sure I can wrangle four tickets, so you might get a bite.”

  “No offense, Sweetness, but eating an overpriced fungi isn’t on my agenda.”

  Sweetness. Hannah loved hearing Papa Jay call her by that nickname. He christened her with that moniker early in life. “Your kisses are the sweetness of life,” he would tell her.

  Gran frowned. “Oh, stop your whining. Your granddaughter wants to show us a good time. You’ll eat them if you get the chance, and you’ll smile and say thank you.” An odd expression ran across Gran’s face. “Four tickets?”

  Hannah bit her tongue. She still needed to tell them about Hymn joining them. She made a quick attempt to redirect the conversation. “Anyway, a lot of people are attending, so there’s a lot to do, Papa Jay. Gran and you could go dancing. The festival is putting on a ballroom exhibition. Didn’t the two of you use to do that?”

  Both Papa Jay and Gran brightened up. “We did. We used to do that all the time,” Gran said with excitement. Papa Jay smiled and proceeded to explain about Gran and his days of dating.

  Hannah half listened as she drifted off into her own thoughts. She reckoned back to a conversation between Elias and her a few days before. They were friends for several years, remaining so after they stopped dating. Email, social media, the occasional phone call, and this event kept them connected. When he called, he sounded excited at first. He announced that he would soon become a father. Hannah listened to the joy in his words. The sound of his voice made her glad for her friend, but his tone became intense and nervous. The last bit of their dialogue bothered her. She asked him if he considered bringing anything new to the festival.

  “A lot is going on here,” he said in his heavy French accent. “I have been working on things since the fall,” Elias responded. “Hannah,” a long pause mounted between the two before he continued, “I am going to need your help. Every bit of it.”

  The serious sound of his voice shook Hannah. When she asked what was wrong, he said, “I can’t talk over the phone, but remember where I keep my things.” With that, he made his goodbyes and hung up.

  Where I keep my things, she considered to herself. Things. Truffles. In their short, few years out of culinary school, Elias made himself the go to expert on truffles. The fungus became his personal obsession. He cranked out a book on the subject. As an expert, he frequented festivals as a guest and judge. He lectured at some of the finest culinary schools and restaurant training programs around the globe. In doing so, he invested in the foodstuffs, proving he was not just an adept gourmet, but also a natural at reading markets. In simpler terms, he made himself rich to the tune of ten million plus. This made him the stuff of legend in the culinary world. Still, his focus remained on his beloved truffles. Wherever he went, he brought portions from some of the operations he invested in. To attend an event with Elias Babel became paramount to getting a taste of truffles: his diamonds in the kitchen. The kitchen, Hannah noted.

  “Dear, your tongue. What are you contemplating?” Gran asked.

  Gran’s question brought Hannah back to the conversation at hand. My tongue. Hannah had a habit of rolling her tongue when contemplating and it was one of her many ‘tics’ as Papa Jay called them. Quirks that acted as clues to her personality. She also occasionally wiggled her nose and upper lip, which she displayed related directly to how deeply the concentration that was taking place. Gran, being both nosy and observant, caught onto her distraction. She needed to answer, but did not want to drag her grandparents into another conversation about Elias. This applied in particular to Gran. It did not matter that it existed between the truffle gourmet and the culinary consultant. The elder snoop would insert herself into their business.

  “Oh, just the festival, Elias, and having you two along,” Hannah responded.

  “Well, I hope old Grumpus don’t spoil it for us,” Gran said, thumbing toward Papa Jay. He responded with, “Harrumph.”

  “Not possible,” Hannah added as she glanced back to give Papa Jay a wink. He returned the same.

  It was for that reason that Gran became excited when Hannah asked them to come along on the trip. Said she wanted to spend time with Hannah. As a younger woman, she did some investigative work for the locals back in Twilight. When she recalled those days, the elder woman’s voice and enthusiasm told Hannah how much she missed them. No longer ‘being nosy’ as Papa Jay put it, all she had left were memories of her adventures. Gran was aware that her granddaughter dabbled in amateur investigations from time to time. Hannah understood her grandmother wanted to relive the adventure via hearing her granddaughter’s tales. It was her way of recapturing the old days.

  Like Gran, Papa Jay, too, said he wanted to spend time with his Sweetness, as well as his Scooby, his pet name for Sindee. Hannah knew it was not in his nature to get involved in other people’s business. Instead, he focused on his own life, or so he claimed. More often than not, Hannah found that things involving Gran found Papa Jay right beside her. In his eyes, his job was to protect her. ‘Less Watson to her Holmes, and more Warbucks to her Annie,” he would say.

  In things involving Hannah, Papa Jay played his role as a grandfather. Hard-nosed, protective, cautious, and loving. He wanted the best for her. Sometimes, this meant head butting. Friends went through an approval process. He scrutinized every relationship. To date, no man measured up, not that this ever stopped her from dating. Papa Jay never put his foot down and refused to let her go out with someone. But when a relationship ended, he would hug her and say the inevitable, “Not good enough for you, anyway.”

  Now came Hymn. Papa Jay and Gran would be the first of her blood family to meet the man. The Inquisition, she mused to herself. She held no doubts that he would make a grand impression, but he would have to endure a grilling before he got their approval. Grilling, chuckled Hannah to herself. Appropriate, but poor choice of words. She floated back into Papa Jay’s memories.

  “Your grandma, she had it going on back in the day.”

  “Back in the day? Honey, I still got it going on, more than your tired old self.” She leaned back and poked at her husband. He grabbed her arm and pulled her forward for a quick kiss.

  “Of course you do, beautiful.”

  As Gran launched into her take on their courtship, Hannah reflected about the truth of her Papa Jay’s statement. Even in her seventies, Gran remained a beau
tiful woman. Hannah always marveled at Gran’s loveliness. Even with her bottle white hair and petite height, she still sported a curvaceous figure. Her sea green eyes, which Hannah inherited, still flirted and got into mischief.

  Papa Jay fits Gran. He still maintained good looks for his age. At six feet tall, slender, with gray-hair, even women half his age turned to get another view when he passed them by. He remained in exceptional health. Both her grandparents did. To keep their vibrant, personalities entertained for an entire week would be a challenge. Lucky for her, the intervention of Hymn would help. That is, if he showed up. Work presented a problem for him now. The leg wound he sustained four months prior landed him desk duty until he recuperated. That would not occur in its entirety for another six to eight months. In the meantime, the Chief gave him the unthankful duty of catching up on Zebulon’s multiyear backlog of paperwork. That mountain of old records work now stood between Hannah and the man she considered as a potential mate. Half of her reason for bringing her grandparents along was to meet him. If all went well, she would find a way to have a solid week of fun and go home rested. Stop complaining, she moaned to herself. A couple of hours of tasting desserts. After that, a free week’s vacation with Hymn. Relax and enjoy.

  Chapter Two

  After landing, everyone exited the plane and made their way to the small airport’s lobby. Hannah made her call to the hotel and within a short time, a white van pulled up outside. The driver got out and introduced himself as Serizawa Kamo. “You can call me Ducky, if you like. Everyone does,” he said, as he gathered their baggage and loaded them. Hannah made a quick mental list of him. Mid to late twenties. Average height. Broad, square face. Not athletic. Brown hair. Deep brown eyes. Asian descent. North American dialect. No underlying accent.