by LK Collins
“No, I can’t, this is the valet line.”
Excitedly my eyes scan the area in search of our destination, and when I spot it, my heart flurries. “Are we going to Chef Lorenzo Dellagio’s new restaurant?”
“Yup!”
“How did you get us in?”
“He’s a friend; I designed one of his houses.”
“Shut up!”
“Is that a question?” he asks me, and I sit, dumbfounded. Completely astonished by what we are about to do.
“Who else have you worked with?”
“A lot of people, too many to name.”
“Does he know we’re coming and what I do?”
“Uh huh,” he says like it’s no big thing, and I feel like I could crawl out of my skin. Chef Dellagio is my idol. I’ve looked up to him for as long as I can remember. Pulling down the mirror, I check my hair and makeup. King closes it before I finish and says, “You look perfect.”
Then my door opens and the valet says, “Welcome to Dellagio’s.”
“Thank you,” I say and reach for King’s hand as he comes around the car to help me stand, buttoning his suit coat as he looks around before we walk inside.
My palms are sweaty walking in with King. The hostess greets us and he says, “Two, under Lennox.”
“Right this way, Mr. Lennox.”
We follow the hostess and she takes us to our table, which is close to the kitchen and I love that. “I’ll let the Chef know that you’ve arrived.”
“Thank you,” he says, his eyes on me while he speaks, reading my reaction. “Is this okay?”
“King, this is incredible.”
“Good.” He opens his menu, a satisfied grin smeared across his face, and I can’t help but gawk at the inside of this glorious restaurant. The noise and clatter from the kitchen ring through my ears, and I close my eyes, praying that one day I’ll have a place of my very own…as popular as this restaurant.
“King,” Chef Dellagio bellows exiting the kitchen.
King stands and shakes his hand, and then the two guys look down at me. “Lorenzo, this is my girlfriend, Ever. Ever, this is Lorenzo.”
I reach for his hand, mine trembling as he takes it and kisses the top. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chef,” I barely choke out, and he smiles looking at King.
“I like her.”
“So do I.”
“Let’s sit, sit.” the Chef says and I’m not sure how to address him.
“So what are you guys eating tonight?” he asks us and I look down at my untouched menu.
“What would you recommend?” King asks him.
“I can make you anything. Ever, what would you like me to make you?”
I blink a few times, flabbergasted. My biggest idol is sitting across from me, offering to cook me anything. “Unless you’d rather help me? King says you are the best chef he’s ever tasted.”
I look at King who is licking his lips and lifts his chin at me. I blush so unbelievably red, knowing the kind of tasting King is referring to. “I’m sorry,” I blurt out, “This is a dream come true.”
“Don’t be sorry. Come on back, Ever,” the Chef says and stands, reaching for my hand. I look at King and he insinuates that I go. Standing up, Lorenzo wraps his hand around mine and leads me into the heaven of all kitchens, a true masterpiece in the culinary world.
“Attention everyone!” All eyes are on the Chef and he says, “We have a guest tonight. Please welcome, Chef Ever.”
“Welcome Chef!” his staff chants and then keeps working, acting as though we don’t exist.
“What’s your favorite meal?”
“Oh, I’m not picky. I’ll eat anything you make.”
“All right,” he claps his hands together and walks off to the sink. “Come on, you are helping me.”
I follow, thankful that my dress doesn’t touch the ground, but nervous that I might slip in the heels I’m wearing. “First, you must try our steamed cockles. We got them in fresh this morning and are pairing them with a beautiful red chili brodetto. It’s my new favorite menu item. My team will send those out. But we’re going to make a mixed grill of sorts, maybe lamb chop, sweetbreads, and beef tongue? We’ll add a simple cipolline jam with aceto reduction, and I recommend the baby beet salad with sweet summer corn and castelagno. How does that sound?”
“Amazing,” I affirm, my heart pounding with every beautiful syllable coming out of his mouth.
I glance up and catch King standing to the side of the kitchen watching us. He’s got that look in his eyes, making my heart thud even louder, and the Chef asks him, “Are you okay eating that?”
“Of course, it sounds incredible,” he responds and then we get to work. I listen to his instructions, taking in every detail of what he’s telling me as if my life depends on it. The chef throws down a rack of lamb, I jump from the sound and he laughs. “Sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m not startled.”
“Good,” he sets a knife down and I don’t hesitate as he gestures me to prepare the chops. I cut into the lamb as he heats the oil and he asks me, “How long would you sear those chops for?”
“No more than a minute on each side, Chef.”
“Good, then do it.” I add them to a pan of hot oil, watching the clock closely as King’s stare eats me up. The Chef sets a baking sheet in front of me so we can finish them off in the oven.
He looks over at King as I work, not needing his direction and says, “She’s good.”
“The best.” King responds and I smile, knowing his dirty mind is not referring to my cooking.
Taking the chops, I add them to the oven and listen to the instructions from the Chef as I make the reduction. He’s so enthusiastic and positive and patient. Which is way different than what I’m used to. I’m used to getting yelled at, faster, quicker, it’s never good enough.
Looking at King briefly, he kisses at me and I smile, staying focused. My heart is pounding, as an intense adrenaline rush races through me.
“Plating our food,” the Chef says, “Well done, Chef.” As I wipe the sides of the plates clean.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“Now, should we try this one, before you guys go eat?”
I nod, excited to watch him cut into the meat. As a chef, the inside of your meat says so much about your skill level. If it’s overcooked or undercooked, you’re lacking a very important skill that really can’t be taught; it’s almost a sixth sense. As the Chef slices open the lamb and nudges his shoulder against mine, King walks over and looks inside. “See? I told you…perfect.”
We all take a bite and the minute that I hear Chef Lorenzo moan chewing the food I made, my culinary life hits a pinnacle. There is not another moment in my life that could top this.
“I want you to come and work for me, Ever.”
I blink…not sure that I heard him correctly. King puts his arm around my back and I look up into his eyes, waiting to wake up, because this all has to be a dream.
Chapter 18
“I can’t believe you didn’t answer him on the spot,” King says, sitting next to me on the couch.
“What was I supposed to say in front of his whole staff?”
“Fuck them, Ever. You say yes.”
“I thought about it…but I’m scared. That place has the best of the best people in the kitchen. I’m not sure if I’m ready to go up against that, or go back to the bottom and start all over.”
“That’s basically where you’re at with your job, right?”
“It’s gotten better.”
“Baby,” the endearment rolls off his tongue so naturally and I like it, “One day, you want to own your own restaurant, right?”
“Of course, it’s my dream.”
“Do you think to prepare for that you’re better off at your current work or diving in with Lorenzo?”
“It’s so weird to me that you call him Lorenzo.”
“Why?” he asks me, “It’s his name.”
“But he’s a world-famous chef, he’s cooked for the President and so many other famous people.”
“Are you a little stars truck?”
“Extremely,” I openly admit.
“Damn, had I known all along all it took was introducing you to Lorenzo, I would’ve done it the day I met you.”
I nuzzle closer to King. The possibility of this could change my world, but it could also be a great risk. What if the Chef is only doing it to help King out and doesn’t truly believe in my talents. How’s that gonna end, for any of us…especially me?
“Why are you stressing?” he asks me, knowing me so well already.
“I’m not stressing,” I lie.
“Yes, you are, your heart rate just picked up, I feel it beating against my body.”
“King?”
“Yes, baby.”
I kiss the middle of his chest as he brushes the hair out of my face. “Can we not talk about this any more today?”
“If that’s really what you want.”
Right now, I don’t know what I want. But I need some time to process things before I make a decision that could jeopardize my future. I’ve worked so hard to get where I’m at on my own. What if I work for Chef Lorenzo and one day things go awry? It could ruin my reputation in the culinary world and the future I’ve dreamed of. Switching over to him is kind of a make or break deal. And at this point in my life, with everything I’ve been through, I’m not sure that I’m willing to take any risks.
_____
“Good morning, baby,” King says as I roll over in bed. He’s on his laptop, naked, as I reach over and massage his dick.
“Why are you up so early?” I ask him and he closes the computer, setting it aside.
“Couldn’t sleep, so I was doing a little work and research.”
“What kind of research?”
“Looking at what we could do today.”
“I have work, so you’re on your own.”
“No, you don’t,” he says, pulling me on top of him.
“What did you do?” I ask agitated, and he doesn’t respond. Instead he tries to distract me by biting and sucking my bottom lip.“King?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me,” I tell him as he slowly slides himself inside me.
“I’m not,” he grips my ass cheeks and I sit up, acting like the feeling of him has no effect on my control. “What did you do?” I ask again and he moves below me, awakening everything inside of me.
“I love your pussy,” he says through his teeth.
“Would you stop?” I yell and grab his face with one hand.
“Oh, you want to get rough?” he asks, taking both of my wrists and placing them behind my back as he now pummels in and out of me.
The sensation is too good to fight, with my hands in his control and his hips wavering in and out of me, I let him fuck me, getting lost in the feeling. Every nerve ending is firing on all cylinders.
He holds my hands more tightly together, his thumb teases my clit, and the combined friction is too much to handle. I let go, flying out of this world, on a rocket of bliss. King gives me a good slam, exploding inside of me, followed by loud grunts and a few pumps to milk out the rest.
Looking down at him through hooded lids, I ask him again, “What did you do?”
“Promise you won’t be mad?”
“That depends,” I tell him, worried right away about what he’s about to tell me.
“You have to promise.”
“Fine,” my eyes get wide as I sneer at him, “I promise.”
“Your boss texted you and asked if you could work a double today. I responded and—”
“You did not.” I cut him off and grab my phone from the nightstand. His cock slipping from me and as much as I don’t like the feeling, I’m irritated with him.
Hey Ever, there was a mix up in the schedule. Do you think you could work a double today?
Actually, I was about to text you. I went out of town with a friend and his car broke down. Not sure how long it will take for the shop to get the part to fix it and then us to drive back. I might miss tonight and tomorrow.
Oh…okay. I’ll see what else I can do. Let me know when you’re back.
Throwing my phone at King, he blocks his face and has the biggest grin on it. “I am so pissed at you right now.”
“Are you really?” he asks.
“Yes, what if I was to get fired?”
“I think you’ve got the job in the bag at Lorenzo’s restaurant.” Glaring at him, I storm into the restroom and slam the door. He opens it before I can lock it and butts his way inside.
“You can’t control my life like this.”
“You’re really mad?” he asks with his bottom lip stuck out, as he clearly doesn’t see something wrong with this.
“Yes, I’m pissed.”
“Stop it, baby.”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me, or try to fuck your way out of this.”
I leave the bathroom in search of my clothes. Finding my pants, I pull them on and throw his t-shirt that I am wearing at him.
“Don’t, Ever, please.”
“You made me a promise and you broke it, so don’t ‘Ever’ me.”
Grabbing my shoes, I fly downstairs and search for my purse. “What, are you just gonna walk home?”
“Yeah, I am. I need some space from your crazy ass.” He’s in my face and I push around him. “Come on, I was only kidding, your boss didn’t even care.”
“But I care, King. Don’t you fucking get that?” I reach for the doorknob and he flies through the house like a naked monkey stopping me and kneeling in front of me with his hands wrapped together like he’s praying. “Please don’t go,” he begs me and I tell him. “Get off the fuckin’ floor.”
“Not unless you’re staying.”
“I need space,” I scream at him, so frustrated that this man can go from being so loving and caring to insanely controlling in a split second.
“I’ll give you space, but please stay here.”
“Why?” I look down at him still on his knees and he says, “Because when I’m away from you, it’s like half of me is dead. But when we’re together, I feel so alive. I’m who I was meant to be. It’s hard to explain.”
“You know that is totally fucked up, right? We just met! It’s too much pressure.”
“And so am I. I’m fucked up. I’m crazy and I’m falling for you. Don’t leave me now. This is just the beginning.”
“Jesus, King, I’m not leaving you, I only wanted some space.”
“Then take it here…please.”
“Fine, I’m gonna shower and call my work.”
He nods and I walk away. Never have I been in such a dysfunctional relationship in all of my life.
Chapter 19
Sitting on the rocky sand bed at low tide, I look out at the waves. King has left me alone since our blow up this morning and I have to admit, I don’t like the silence or being apart from him.
Our relationship has progressed at lighting speed and the feelings I have for him are so strong it scares me, but what scares me even more is to think of not being with him.
But he’s so frustrating at times, that I never know when I’m going to snap and need a break and I don’t like that feeling. It’s not healthy, or the way to begin any relationship. I wish he could see sometimes how his actions affect others.
Closing my eyes as I breathe in the fresh sea air, I sense him behind me. I wonder if he can sense me, when I’m close to him.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I tell him and I hear the crunch of his shoes against the ground.
“It is. I don’t appreciate it enough. Just like I didn’t appreciate you this morning and I’m sorry for that, Ever.” He sits next to me, the most genuine and clear expression on his face. The ways he changes sometimes, it gives me whiplash. “I don’t want to control you, I mean, I do…but…”
“Be serious, King.”
“Ever, you�
��” he breathes deeply and stops talking. “You mean more to me than I think you realize and I want to spend every goddamn second with you that I can. Is that such a bad thing?”
“No, King, it’s not. It’s sweet of you and how I feel too. But what we have…I’ve never experienced. A few weeks ago, I was okay living my life alone. Then you crashed into it like a tornado and I’m adjusting…but I need you to let me. And part of that means, I’ve gotta make my own decisions.”
“Absolutely,” he says.
“Like cooking at Lorenzo’s restaurant, and as much as that was a dream come true, working under him is not the future I see for myself. I want to own my own restaurant and make a name for myself. I don’t want to be known because I am the product of someone who’s already famous.”
“I understand completely. I truly had no idea he was going to offer you a job.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. But I think I’m on the right path where I am to get the experience I need. Then everything will be all on my shoulders and what I’ve dreamed about since I was a little girl, I can make happen.”
“From this moment forward, I will support you fully, beautiful. I won’t make a decision without you, and I most certainly will not control your life.”
“Thank you,” I say, resting my head on his arm. He kisses the top of my head and holds onto my face with his soft hand.
“Does this mean you’re going to work tonight?” I look at him and he raises both his hands in front of him. “Hey, I was only asking.”
“If I don’t work,” I mutter, hating how easily he makes me cave, “What do you want to do?”
That sexy ass devilish grin comes across his face and he says, “A lot of fucking.” He stands and reaches for my hand. I take his and we walk down the beach. The tide is already coming in, pushing us close to the rocks of the cliff.
“What do you have in mind?” he asks me and I like that he’s asking me– I can see he’s really trying.
“I don’t know. I normally hike or relax when I’m off.”
“Let’s not try and kill me again.”
