I glance around. “Sure, I guess. What would you like me to make?”
He smiles. “Surprise me.”
A flutter of nervousness runs through my tummy as Gabriel walks out of the kitchen, leaving me alone. Shit. What am I supposed to do now?
I look through all the food in the giant refrigerators and multiple pantries. There’s so much. I think back on the meal I ate here.
The Ocean Mark specializes in seafood. They source local ingredients. He’d want something fresh, vibrant.
I get to work.
I poach a salmon fillet in white wine and butter. The wine will infuse the salmon with a subtle flavor without overpowering the good, fresh taste of the fish; the butter will give the sauce some heft, and a luxurious mouth-feel. Plus, let’s be honest: everything tastes better with butter. I add a few sprigs of fresh dill while it simmers, knowing it will be just the perfect little kick to pull the whole dish together.
For a side, I decide on sautéed green beans with garlic—super simple, but big on wow factor if you blister the beans and garlic just right without burning them. My heart beats uncomfortably hard while I cook, but I keep my hands steady and don’t break anything. I squeeze half a lemon over the beans; it would be more conventional to add lemon to the salmon sauce, but that dish is already just the right side of busy—and anyway, since when am I conventional? The lemon will be a bright, fresh contrast to the almost-charred elements.
When the food is done, I plate it as nicely as I can, garnishing with a purple kale leaf and a slice of lemon for color. The salmon looks perfect, flaky and moist, and the green beans are exactly right. I can smell the garlic and lemon, their flavors mixing nicely with the dill and white wine.
I find Gabriel at a table right outside the kitchen door. I put the plate in front of him, and have to make myself stay. I’m so nervous I want to run and hide.
He takes a bite of the salmon, and I can see his mind working. He tastes it carefully, his brow furrowed like he’s concentrating on the flavor. He doesn’t say a word, but takes a bite of the green beans, then puts down his fork.
Oh no. He hates it.
“I’m sorry, have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the chair across the table. “I didn’t mean to make you keep standing there.”
I sink down into the seat and fold my hands in my lap.
“This is delicious,” he says.
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Really?”
“Yes,” he says. “This is everything I love in a salmon dish. Cooked perfectly, and the flavors are sublime. You didn’t overdo it, which is the biggest problem most inexperienced chefs have. This is subtle.”
“Thank you.”
“I realize you have a lot to learn, since you’ve never worked in a real kitchen before,” Gabriel says. “But it’s the slow season, so the timing is perfect. I can bring you in a few days a week for the lunch service and start teaching you. By the time summer comes around again, I think you’ll be ready. What do you think?”
“You really want to hire me?”
“Absolutely,” he says. “You’re a natural. I’m not stupid enough to pass up on that kind of talent.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He smiles. “You could say you accept.”
I put a hand to my mouth to stop from laughing. I shouldn’t be giggling, but I can’t help it. “Yes, I definitely accept.”
Gabriel reaches out a hand, and I take it. “Great. Lori, my business manager, will give you a call to work out the details. I’m sure you’ll have to work out your schedule with Natalie at the café, but you’re welcome to start anytime.”
“I’ll talk to Natalie and let you know,” I say. “Thank you so much. Really. I’m kind of beside myself right now.”
“I have a good feeling about this,” he says. “I’ve been looking for the right person for a while now. It kind of seems like this was meant to be.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe it was.
22
Cody
I’m probably as excited for Clover’s new job as she is. It does mean she’s busier, since she has to juggle shifts at the café with time at the Mark. She hopes Gabriel will hire her full-time by next summer, but for now she has to work both places. She handles it like a champ, with her usual sparkle. I’m proud of her, and I love seeing her happy.
I still have that medical conference in Portland, and she arranges to take a few days off so she can come with me. She definitely needs the break. I book us a nice hotel, so she’ll be comfortable while I’m attending sessions and meetings all day, and tell her to go nuts with the room service.
It’s a three-day conference, and the first two days are informative, if a bit dull. I spend the day at the convention center, attending lectures, taking notes, and networking with other doctors. The first night, I take Clover to a great little French restaurant downtown. She looks stunning in a short black dress and bright red heels. We sip wine, and the food is fantastic. Afterward, we go back to our hotel and try out the jetted tub.
The second night is a Saturday, and Clover wants to go out but keep it casual. I change into jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. Clover wears a black shirt with a lacy back, and a fluttery skirt that shows a lot of leg. We grab burgers and beer at a microbrewery, then walk to a bar nearby. There’s great music playing and the bartender’s pours are generous.
Our table is off to the side. I sip a glass of Jack Daniels, listening to Clover talk about her childhood. Her life is so foreign to me—growing up moving from place to place, without a lot of rules or boundaries. I can tell she misses her parents, and it blows my mind that she hasn’t seen them in years.
“How did your parents meet?” I ask.
“A concert,” she says. “They were both tripping on something and woke up in the back of someone’s truck together. I think that was it; they were always together after that.”
“That’s … wow,” I say.
“I know,” she says. “I didn’t know how different they were until I was around twelve. We stayed in one place for long enough that I made a few friends. I went over to another girl’s house and I couldn’t get over how different her family was. I’ll always remember the huge wedding picture in their dining room. Her mom was in this frilly white dress. She looked young.”
“Your parents didn’t have wedding pictures in the RV?” I ask.
“No, they weren’t married,” she says, and takes another sip of her drink.
“Really?” I ask.
“Nope. They didn’t believe in marriage.”
I sit back, my hand on my glass. “Believe in it? That’s a little odd, don’t you think?”
“I suppose,” she says. “I mean, it seems like most people expect to get married someday.”
“Don’t you?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “I don’t think I really believe in marriage either. It’s so permanent, you know?”
“Sure, but don’t you think, maybe, if you met the right guy…” I trail off, realizing what I’m about to say. Neither of us are ready to have this conversation, not even close. But it does bother me that she’s so flippant about marriage. “Never mind.”
She pushes my drink toward me. “Okay, serious doctor man. We’re supposed to be having fun tonight.”
I smile and swallow the rest of my whiskey. She’s right. We’ve both been working hard lately, and I’ve been looking forward to unwinding with her all day.
“You know what we need?” she asks. “We need shots.”
“Baby, I think you’re absolutely right.” I resolve to stop at two, because I have a breakfast meeting in the morning with several colleagues.
I don’t stop at two.
Clover and I stumble out of the bar an hour or so later, laughing so hard we almost can’t breathe. I keep my arm around her shoulders, as much to steady myself as her. Her arm is around my waist, her hand beneath my shirt, warm against my skin. We’re downtown, and we sh
ould be within walking distance of our hotel—but looking around, I’m not quite sure which direction to go.
We turn left and head up the sidewalk. It’s well after dark, but it’s a mild night and there are still lots of people out. After a few blocks I still don’t see our hotel. My head is swimming from the whiskey and I’m not too sure why I was looking for the hotel in the first place.
“Oh my god, Cody,” Clover says, stopping. She points up a side street. “Let’s go there.”
I look in the direction she’s pointing. “Club 90? What is that?”
She laughs. “I think it’s a strip club.”
I’m drunk, but I’m not sure I’m that drunk. “Why do you want to go to a strip club?”
“Come on,” she says, pulling me down the street. “Let’s live a little.”
People mill around outside—not just guys, but couples and groups of twenty-somethings. At first I think it must just be another bar. As soon as we’re inside, there’s no question where we are. It’s definitely a strip club.
In the center is a t-shaped stage with poles at all three ends. Women dressed in nothing but thongs swing around the poles, flipping their hair as they dance. The place is packed, the seats surrounding the stage all taken. Music blares from huge speakers, and the lights are dim. Tables are set around the rest of the floor, most of them full. Women walk around in black lingerie with tiny bowties at their throats, serving drinks; several bouncers stand with big arms crossed over their thick chests.
I want to tell Clover I’m not sure about this, but she grabs my hand and leads me in. I love women as much as the next guy, but I’ve never been a fan of strip clubs. The dancers can be aggressive, and to be honest, a lap dance has never done it for me. I can’t get over the fact that I’m paying for it, and I know the woman doesn’t give two shits about me. There’s nothing particularly sexy about that, no matter what she looks like.
The vibe in this place is different from other strip clubs I’ve been to—more of a party atmosphere. I see as many women as men in the crowd, and most of the people at the tables aren’t even paying attention to the girls on the poles. They’re hanging out like they’re at any other club.
Clover finds us a small table and we get a couple drinks. I know I need to stop—it’s getting late and I have to get up early. But I can’t very well come into a place like this and not order anything.
Clover sits near me, her knees touching mine, and looks around with a mischievous glint in her eye. “What do you think?”
I take a sip of my whiskey. “I think you’re the sexiest woman in here.”
“Yeah?” she says. “Maybe you’d like to see me dance like that?” Clover nods toward the woman at center stage, who hooks her leg around the pole and twirls.
“Wait,” I say. “You’ve never worked in a place like this, have you?”
She laughs so hard she almost spills her drink. “Oh my god, no. I’d fall on my face.”
I put my hand on her bare knee and slide it up her thigh. “That’s okay, you don’t need to put on a show for me.”
She tips her legs apart and smiles.
I’m just about to get up and lead her out the door, determined to find our hotel, when I realize there’s someone standing behind me.
“How about a dance, you two?” The woman has a sparkling red bra barely containing a set of huge fake boobs, and a piercing through her belly button.
Clover and I say “Yes!” and “No, thanks” at exactly the same time.
I swing my head around to Clover. “What?”
She stands and licks her lips. “Come on, baby, don’t you want to watch?”
“Private room, then?” the woman asks.
Clover grabs my hand and, before I realize what’s happening, I find myself ducking behind a curtain at the side of the club. Bewildered, I let Clover push me into an upholstered seat.
The stripper’s dark hair is in a ponytail, and she’s wearing thick makeup. “I’m Kitty.” She turns a seductive grin on Clover and twines her finger through one of Clover’s curls. “I love your hair. So wild.”
Clover looks at me and giggles.
“So how about it, big boy,” Kitty says, looking at me. “You like to watch?”
She nudges Clover down onto the seat next to me and turns around, then flips her ponytail over her shoulder and arches her back, sticking her mostly bare ass in Clover’s lap.
Clover laughs again, putting her hands on Kitty’s hips. I’m so fascinated, I can’t look away. Kitty runs a thumb beneath her bra, tugging on it. Clover reaches up and unfastens the hooks, then slides her hands down Kitty’s back.
Oh shit.
Kitty turns and slips off the bra, revealing huge tits that barely move. She glides her hands up and down her body, rocking her hips to the music.
Turning her attention to me, Kitty moves so she’s standing with one leg between Clover’s, her other leg between mine, semi-straddling us both. She writhes around in front of us, tossing her hair, moving her hips.
I hardly pay attention to her. Clover’s skirt is hiked high up her thighs, and I can see her pulse beating in the thin skin of her throat. I put my hand on her leg and lean in to kiss her neck.
“Ooh, you like her don’t you,” Kitty says. “Come here, cupcake.” She grabs Clover’s hands so she’s standing, and moves her in front of me.
Clover laughs again while Kitty stands behind her and puts her hands on Clover’s hips.
“Move with me, gorgeous,” Kitty says. “Show your bad boy what you’ve got.”
Kitty stands close behind Clover, her hips up against Clover’s ass. They start to move together, swaying to the beat of the music. Clover’s eyes are half-shut, her lips parted. Kitty’s hands move up Clover’s ribs, lifting her shirt. Clover raises her arms, letting Kitty pull her shirt off, leaving her in nothing but a pink bra and that short black skirt.
I breathe hard, grabbing Clover’s waist. Kitty presses her closer and Clover widens her stance to straddle over me.
“That’s it, cupcake,” Kitty says, leaning over Clover’s shoulder. “You’re sexy as hell, baby girl.”
Clover smiles and grinds into my very hard cock. I groan, holding her hips while she moves over the top of me, rubbing her pussy across my groin, her breasts in my face. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine.
My head is fuzzy; Clover’s body writhing all over has me going crazy. Her tongue tastes like whiskey, and her vanilla scent fills me. I run my hands up her thighs and grab her ass beneath her skirt.
“Ooh, you two are hot,” Kitty says.
I’d forgotten she was even here.
Kitty leans over Clover’s shoulder. “Go for it, cupcake.” Her voice is low. “Do it. I’ll cover for you guys.”
Clover’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open. She reaches down and starts unfastening my pants.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I say, but I don’t try to stop her.
Kitty is still behind Clover, but she backs up a little. She meets my eyes and winks while she continues dancing, then turns, arching her back toward us.
Oh fuck, I don’t know if I can do this.
Clover gets my pants open and pulls out my cock, squeezing the shaft. She swipes her other fingers between her legs and rubs her wetness onto me. Her eyes don’t leave mine.
“We can’t do this here,” I whisper.
“Yes, we can,” she says.
One hand pushes her panties to the side, while she guides my cock in with the other. My eyes roll back in my head. She feels so fucking good, I can barely stand it. She rides me hard, moving her hips, grinding her hot pussy all over me. I dig my fingers into her ass, moving her faster.
“Do it, baby,” she says into my ear. “Come in me right here.”
I forget where we are and the fact that a stripper named Kitty is a foot away, faking a lap dance. Her pussy contracts, and I unleash. My cock pulses—harder, harder, pouring into her. I can’t see; I can’t thi
nk. There’s only Clover, her huge blue eyes right in front of mine, her tongue licking my lips as she comes.
She finishes and we both pause, breathing hard. Her eyes widen in surprise and she covers her mouth, her body shaking with laughter.
“Holy shit,” she says, still laughing. She quickly pulls off of me and adjusts her skirt. I fumble with my pants, trying to get my dick back inside before Kitty turns around.
Kitty stops dancing and picks up Clover’s shirt. “Oh my god, you guys. I do this five nights a week, and I’m never turned on, but you two… Let’s just say I’m off in thirty, and you are going to make my boyfriend a happy man tonight.”
I’m so stunned that I have no idea what to say. I pull a bunch of cash out of my wallet and hand it to her without counting it. She thanks me, Clover puts on her shirt, and we walk out of the curtained booth. Kitty’s gone before we get halfway across the floor. I don’t bother finding another table. I’m dazed, high as shit on the craziest sex I’ve ever had.
“I think I need some air,” I say.
We get out to the street and walk through the people lingering outside. I grab Clover and push her up against the side of the building, leaning my face close to her ear.
“You’re fucking insane; do you know that?” I kiss her neck and nip her ear with my teeth.
“You love it,” she says. Her hands glide beneath my shirt, caressing my back.
“You bet I do.”
23
Cody
I wake up, sprawled sideways across the bed. I’m naked, although I don’t remember getting undressed. Even the memory of getting back to our room is hazy. After Club 90, we somehow managed to find our hotel and stumble upstairs to our room. I’m pretty sure we tried three doors before we found ours. I remember Clover covering her mouth to stifle her laughter every time the room key didn’t work.
My head hurts and I need water. I get up and pull on my underwear, then grab a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. Clover is face down, her wild hair spilling out across the sheets.
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