"You'll love this one. Trust me. I promise that Tyler Monroe won't be able to take his eyes off of you when he sees you next Tuesday night."
CHAPTER 16
I walk into what will soon be the bustling dining room of Nova. The walls have been painted a pale shade of grey. The light hardwood floors are partially installed and the sublime lighting fixtures are all in place.
It's definitely different than old Nova in both design and size. I haven't heard the exact number of seats for dinner service, but I can tell that it's at least thirty percent more than our old location.
Tyler was quoted, in a Times article last summer, as saying that he wished that Nova could seat more people. Ironically, it soon will. Hunter announced just yesterday that reservations are filled for the first four months after opening. Success definitely follows Chef Monroe wherever he goes.
"Can you help me unload a crate of plates?" Drea taps me on the shoulder.
"You're in today?" I glance at the large, stainless steel clock that is hanging on the wall. It's a temporary adornment for the contractor's crew. They're only permitted to work ten hours a day, and not a minute more. They never stray from that. Once the clock nears quitting time, they start packing up. Union rules are iron clad, apparently, even if a job is half-done when the clock strikes six.
"Darrell wanted me here to help with organizing the kitchen." She looks confused. "You know I'm back full-time, right?"
I didn't know that. I haven't kept track of what's been going on at Nova other than my own schedule. Darrell asked me to help out three days a week, mostly mornings. I've done everything from washing pots and pans to helping him prep some of the tasting menus.
The kitchen is complete, for the most part, and Darrell and a few of the other chefs, chosen by Tyler, have put the space to good use. They've been cooking sample plates as they ready for the opening.
We're still a few weeks away from that but under Tyler's watchful eye, the staff has been closing in on what will be a new, seasonal menu to relaunch Nova.
"I'm not working." I glance over Drea's shoulder toward the kitchen. "Is Chef Monroe around?"
"Not anymore." She shakes her head. "He took off with Maribel about an hour ago. They went out to celebrate."
"Celebrate?"
Tyler's birthday party isn't for another few days but maybe Maribel took it upon herself to treat him to an early celebratory lunch. I don’t feel an ounce of anxiety over the fact that she seems to have a crush on my boyfriend. I know he finds it flattering. I think it's sweet.
"Her promotion," she says effortlessly. "Maribel was so stoked when she heard that she's a senior chef so the two of them went out to toast to her success."
***
"I guess that from now on, I'm technically your boss, Cadence." Mirabel tosses that gem right into my face when she arrives back at Nova.
"Congratulations," I manage through clenched teeth.
I have no right to be as pissed as I am that she was offered the position. She's been with the restaurant longer than I have. She's skilled and deserves to be recognized for her talent.
She's not as good a chef as I am though. Tyler told me that himself.
"You're happy for me, aren't you, Cadence?"
"I am." My traitorous mouth just pops that out.
She claps her hands together loudly as she surveys the space. "I knew you would be. I'm going to make sure every junior chef in the kitchen works as hard as they can for Tyler. He deserves it. I'll the best senior chef that he's ever had."
I'm so irritated that all I can do is nod.
"Can I tell you a secret?" She curves her index finger in the air. "Someone else who works here is going to be a senior chef too but you can't tell anyone I told you that."
My heart strums in my chest. It's a happy beat. She has to be talking about me. I'm more experienced than any other junior chef at Nova. I'm actually going to be promoted too. I can barely contain my excitement as I wait for her to confirm it. "You can tell me."
"You promise you'll act super surprised when Chef announces it?"
I nod my head feverishly. "I'll put on a great show. He'll never know that you told me, Marbiel. I promise."
She pulls on the sleeve of my blouse. I quickly realize that she wants me to stand in the corner with her even though we are the only two people in the dining room. Everyone else followed Tyler into the kitchen when he got back with Maribel from their celebratory drink, or drinks, judging by the slight slur in her voice.
"I'm not supposed to tell anyone." She looks back over her shoulder toward the kitchen. "Chef won't like it if he knows I told you, but we're friends, right?"
"We are." My mouth curves into a genuine smile. It has taken time but I feel like we're fringing on the border of what could be a real friendship. The age difference doesn't matter to me. I like Maribel and since we'll both be taking on more responsibility when Nova reopens, we'll be able to lean on each other, not only as co-workers, but also as friends.
"Someone is coming." She turns toward the approaching footsteps. "I better tell you now."
I arch both brows, craning my neck so I can hear her.
"It's Rolly. Rolly is getting bumped up to senior chef right alongside me."
CHAPTER 17
I stare at her lips.
I couldn't have heard her correctly. Rolly sounds nothing like Cadence. Why in the fuck would she say Rolly's name? He started at Nova a day after I did. He's a few years older than me but I've logged ten times more hours in the industry than he has. He worked in real estate until he went to culinary school two years ago.
"Rolly? I repeat back quietly. "As in Rolly who started at the same time as me?"
"That's him," she says as she looks to the left to where Tyler and a few other people have entered the room. "Remember that you can't tell anyone, Cadence. Tyler will have my neck if you do."
Tyler.
I stare at him as he nears. He told me that I was the most talented junior chef working at Nova yet Maribel and Rolly are the ones he handed the promotions to. That means better hours and more money for both of them.
"Do you want to take off, Cadence?" His eyes cut to mine. "I'm cooking dinner for us tonight."
"For us?" Mirabel jokes as she loops her arm through Tyler's. "What's on the menu, Chef?"
I exhale on an unsteady breath. "That's a great idea. You should join us, Maribel. We can keep the celebration going."
"I'll grab a bottle of champagne on my way over." She glances over at me. "Are you going home to change first, Cadence? If you are we can ride to Tyler's together in a taxi."
Tyler's gaze is locked on my face. I sense it before I turn to confirm it. He arches his brows in a silent question. He wants to know why the fuck I'm inviting Mirabel to our dinner date.
We're even since I want to know why the hell I was passed over twice for a senior chef position. I can accept the fact that he saw Mirabel as more qualified than me. I'd argue the point, and even challenge her to a cook-off if I thought it would do any good.
I know that Tyler views her as mature and experienced. I get that.
Rolly is a completely different story.
I'm better than him.
He fucks up on an almost daily basis.
His concept of flavors is skewed. Darrell is constantly on his ass about that.
"We'll all get together another evening, Maribel." Tyler points a finger at me. "Cadence and I have plans after dinner. You understand, don't you?"
Her eyes volley from his face to mine before disappointment settles over her expression. "I'll celebrate with my family. They're all pumped that I'm a senior chef."
"They must be very proud of you," I say tightly. "You deserve it, Maribel. You've worked hard for it."
Without warning, her arms are around me, pulling me into her chest. "That means a lot coming from you, Den. Thank you for being so supportive."
***
"You're pissed that Maribel was bumped up to senior chef, aren't you?"
&n
bsp; It doesn't take a mind reader to figure that one out. He's basing it on the fact that I haven't said more than two words to him the entire time I've been at his place. I haven't had to. He's talked my ear off about his plans for the new location.
Tyler's energized in a way I haven't seen before. I'd join in on the fun if I didn't have Rolly's name etching a path of fury in the base of my brain.
Rolly? I still don't fucking understand how Rolly leapfrogged over me to land a senior chef job.
"You wouldn't have given her the job if she didn't deserve it."
His face snaps up. He stares at me. "Is that sarcasm or do you really feel that way?"
It's both. It's a little of both or it's a lot of sarcasm and a sliver of honesty.
"Maribel works hard," I say evenly. "She's been at Nova longer than I have."
"That's the main reason why I gave the position to her." He reaches across the table to cover my hand with his. "I may have joked about it, but when I found out there was a possibility that she was going to leave Nova, I panicked. I want her to finish out her career in my kitchen. She's too valuable an employee to lose."
I stare at our hands. His is much larger than mine. It's stronger, more experienced in every way. "She'll stay loyal until the day she retires. The promotion guarantees that."
"That's exactly how I viewed the situation." He scoops my hand into his. "I've missed us like this. I want to fuck you, Cadence."
Slow your roll, Chef. Slow. Your. Roll.
"We just ate." Technically, he just ate. I picked at the pork loin he prepared for us. I lost my appetite earlier when I realized that I'll have to answer to Rolly even though he doesn't know the difference between parsley and cilantro.
My phone chimes. It's a reprieve from this. An escape from the mounting anger that's threatened to consume me since I got here. I bought myself some time to change my clothes and quell my frustration when I told him back at Nova that I needed to shower before dinner.
I stripped off the jeans and blouse I was wearing earlier and threw on a blue wrap dress before I spent the next thirty minutes pacing a line in my apartment.
I yank my hand free of his and pull my phone toward me just as it chimes again. I drop my eyes to the screen, faintly aware that Tyler is staring at me in silence.
I read the only new message. It's from Brendon.
Hey. 1 of our senior chefs quit yesterday. Let's talk about the job. No strings. I need a good chef and UR it.
Irony, with all its bittersweet tones, has never been this tempting.
CHAPTER 18
Tyler pushes his hands against the edge of the table as the feet of the wooden chair he's sitting in graze along the floor. It's an irritating noise that grates at me.
He stands, his hand outstretched toward me. "Come to my bed with me, Chef."
Chef.
It's become a term of endearment between us. It's not a sign of his respect or admiration for the work I do. It's a prelude to a solid round of fucking followed by another.
"Why is Rolly getting a promotion?"
The drops him back into his chair. "What?"
"Maribel told me that Rolly is getting a promotion to senior chef too," I say softly tempering my frustration. "I'd like to know why I was passed up for that."
He exhales slowly. "I'm sorry you found that out from her. I wanted to tell you myself."
I narrow my eyes. "It wouldn't have hurt any less if you told me, Tyler. Rolly isn't as good as me. I'm a better chef than he is."
His eyes roam my face before they drop to my hands. They're resting on the table, laced together. My knuckles are white, my thumbs sore from the pressure of trying to restrain myself.
"Your confidence is one of the things I love about you, Cadence." He leans back in his chair. "You're one of the most talented young chefs working in this city today."
It's hard to absorb a compliment when you know it's followed by a 'but'.
"In my kitchen, there's much more to being a senior chef than being able to cook. I'm looking for people who can lead a team. Rolly has experience that you lack."
I thought that I could skirt around the holes in my resume by proving, through hard work and determination, that I'm qualified to lead an entire kitchen staff.
Youth isn't an ally in the restaurant industry in Manhattan. It doesn't matter that I've worked in professional kitchens longer than Rolly or that I've shown Tyler that I can lead by taking over when other chefs have bailed on their shifts. The promotion isn't mine.
"Did you even consider me for it?" I ask with my chin high. I'm proud of the work I do. I know I'm good. I don't need a title or an increase in pay to prove that. I just want to know whether Tyler ever saw me as a candidate.
His shoulders slump as he puffs out a heavy breath. "You need more time to work on establishing yourself as a force in the kitchen. I didn't have my first senior chef position until I was twenty-five."
If his words are meant to placate me, they're not doing their job. Reading between the lines tells me that my name never made it to the short-list. "You gave the job to Rolly because he's older than me. Is that what happened?"
"Rolly managed an entire kitchen before he came to Nova."
"He worked at a small diner, Tyler." I grab my phone when it pings again. "He managed a line cook and a dish washer."
"That's not the point, Cadence."
"It is the point." I drop my gaze back to my phone's screen expecting to see another message from Brendon, but it's not him.
It's Barbara, the producer from the morning show.
I read the message carefully, twice.
I've got exciting news to share, Chef Sutton. I'm about to make you an offer you can't refuse. Call me when you get this.
I glance at the time before I respond via text.
I can talk in 30? Does that work?
"Is everything all right?" Tyler cranes his neck forward to try and grab a view of my phone's screen. I cradle it in my hand, tilting it away from him.
I nod. "I think I'm going to take off soon. I want to crash early tonight."
I don’t look up but I can see him rise from his chair in my peripheral vision.
I'm on my way home. Can you stop by the studio tomorrow morning? I'll be there from 6 a.m. on.
I type a response as fast as my fingers will move.
I'll be there by 8. Have a good night, Barbara. I'm looking forward to talking.
"Cadence." He crouches next to me. "I don’t want what happens at Nova to come between us. I need you to understand why I promoted Maribel and Rolly."
I place my phone in my lap, screen side down. "If we weren't sleeping together would I have gotten a promotion?"
He pulls back to study my face. "Is that what you think this is? You think I held you back because we're fucking each other?"
My jaw sets. "I think that promoting your girlfriend would raise a lot of questions."
"I wouldn't give a fuck about any of those questions." He cups my chin in his palm. "I make decisions in my restaurant that I feel are best for the business. You're hesitant when you're in the kitchen. You question yourself too often still. You're not ready to be a senior chef. When you are, I'll move you up."
"When will that be?"
"When?" He looks away. "You're asking me when I'm going to promote you?"
"No." I pull back so his hand drops. "I'm asking when you think I'll be ready for more responsibility. I want to know when you believe I'll have enough experience to be considered for a promotion."
"Give it at least a year, Cadence. We can talk about whether you're ready then."
"A year," I say under my breath.
An entire fucking year?
"Let me hold you now, baby," he growls as his warm lips glide over my cheek. "I want you."
I turn to him, breathing in the scent of his skin. I stare into his eyes. If he's punishing me for being his lover, I can't fall back into bed with him tonight. I need to think. I need to breathe.
"
I'm going to sleep early tonight, Chef. I have some stuff to do tomorrow morning."
A long silence hangs in the air before he leans forward. "I care about you, Cadence. I'm grateful that you came into my life."
I silence his words with a soft kiss before I stand to leave. He may care about me but when it comes to my career, the only person who seems to care about that is me.
CHAPTER 19
"Can you tell me about the offer?" I smooth my hands over the legs of my dark wash jeans. I hadn't given my outfit choice a whole lot of thought when I was getting dressed this morning. I was too eager to get here to see Barbara. Curiosity about the message she sent me kept me tossing and turning until I finally just got out of bed at four a.m. to shower.
"We keep saying to one another that you're like a bright ray of sunshine." Barbara laughs. "I know that sounds cliché, Cadence, but you're beautiful. You have the looks of a model and talent in the kitchen. Beyond that you have a way of touching the audience. The video of you being interviewed at Nova's new location has logged more than a million views already and the comments are, for the most part, extremely positive. Our viewers want more of you."
"More of me? In what way?"
Barbara taps her perfectly manicured fingernails against the top of her desk. "I've watched your segments over and over, Cadence. You have a natural charm and presence that is rare."
"Thank you," I say with a slight grin.
"We've been auditioning for months and the fit was never right," she goes on, "we're looking for a young, talented New York City chef who will appear once a week during the eight o'clock hour to cook something quick and simple that any twenty- something, young professional can replicate."
"I see." I gaze at her and the woman sitting next to her. I was introduced to her when I arrived but her name escapes me now.
"Our goal is to have these segments go viral." She motions toward her smartphone. "We'll develop an app. People can sign up for free and your recipes will be made available exclusively to them. We'll produce online videos where you'll visit local markets and demonstrate how to pick the most economical ingredients."
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