by Andrea Thome
Their eyes met, and Logan rewarded her with that mischievous grin of his once again. Laina just smiled and shook her head, standing to gather her own things.
“I didn’t peg you for a yogi. Have you been practicing long?” She clenched her jaw as she watched him run his fingers through his hair, which was wet with exertion.
He was not an ugly man.
“Are you kidding? I come here all the time. I love yoga. It makes you feel so . . . stretched out. Calm too.” Logan waited for her to grab her mat so they could leave together. The sun was just peeking up over the east end of Hyman Avenue, lighting up the redbrick street as Logan and Laina stepped outside. Gallery owners were busy sweeping their storefronts, preparing for the influx of visitors for the Classic.
They walked together toward the direction of her house and Logan’s truck, which was parked on the next street over. They slowed in front of the Bronco, and Logan turned toward Laina. “Are you excited about tonight? I think it’s going to be great.”
Laina smiled. “I’m really excited. I had a hard time concentrating on yoga today. So many thoughts racing through my head. But I think we’re ready. I’m meeting Van and the staff at ten to get to work.”
Logan turned to look at her. “I had a hard time concentrating too. It was hot in there today.”
Laina couldn’t tell if that was innuendo or not, but she chided herself for blushing. “The hotter the better, in my opinion. That’s the point: sweat out those old toxins and leave as a new person.”
Logan nodded in agreement, checking the time on his phone. “Can I run you home? It’s already nine fifteen.”
Laina glanced back at the clock on the street corner by the jewelry store to confirm. “You know what? That would be great, if you don’t mind. It will save me some time for sure.”
Laina thought the old Bronco suited him. As handsome as he was, Logan didn’t strike her as a high-maintenance guy. The truck was simple but cool, just like its driver. The wind felt amazing in her damp hair as they made their way down CO-82 and steered east of town toward her place. Laina closed her eyes and enjoyed the brief ride home, listening to John Mayer’s “Edge of Desire” playing on Logan’s radio. He seemed to know just where to go, pulling into her drive a few minutes later and parking next to Laina’s car.
“Thanks so much for the ride.” Laina reached into the back seat where she’d stowed her mat. “I’ll see you tonight?”
Logan nodded, watching her intently. “Good luck. Is that the right thing to say to a chef? I guess you probably don’t leave much to luck. But it can’t hurt to have a little anyway, right?”
Laina’s face relaxed into a smile. “I’m prepared, Logan, but I’ll take all the luck I can get. See you at dinner.”
She could feel his gaze on her as she climbed up her porch steps and unlocked the front door to step inside. The back of her neck was hot with awareness. Turning, she watched him shift into reverse, raising his hand out the open roof in a silent goodbye. She waved back, shutting the front door and leaning back against it for a moment.
She’d had the strangest sensation before she got out of the car that he’d considered leaning in to kiss her, despite the fact that he hadn’t moved an inch in her direction. It was his energy. He seemed hungry. For her. Shuddering, she pushed away from the door and headed upstairs to get ready. Time to switch gears. For the next twelve hours, it was going to be all about the food.
After a quick shower, she dressed in a skinny black pencil skirt and a sleeveless black silk blouse. She hesitated before impulsively grabbing an extra pair of shoes for later. She knew she’d have to step out into the dining room at some point to address the dinner patrons, and she decided that the sexy black stilettos would allow her to leave her ugly but practical black clogs behind the scenes. Throwing on a pair of sunglasses, she locked up the house and pulled out of her driveway to head back toward town.
Laina had spent the week fine-tuning the menu and had dropped the final revisions off at the printer a couple of days ago to be picked up on her way to the restaurant that morning. Sitting in her car outside the shop, she opened the box to take a peek. She was pleased with the simple effect of the emerald-green script on the handmade light-brown square slip of paper. She was glad she’d decided to add the aspen leaf at the bottom of each page. She’d have the servers leave them at the place settings prior to each course.
Laina had decided to keep diners wondering, not revealing the descriptions of the courses until just before each dish was served. At the end of the meal, she’d have her waiters deliver small brown envelopes she’d personally signed for guests to store their menus, in order to take them home with them to remember the special evening.
She’d written the descriptions for each of the courses as haikus. The traditional Japanese style of poetry would allow her just enough syllables to express herself without coming across too flowery. Five syllables on the first line, seven on the second, and five on the third. She loved the order of it all. Haikus were also a nod to her own Asian heritage. She’d grown up surrounded by poetry, and her mother had even self-published a book of poems when Laina was in high school. Laina didn’t do anything without a great deal of intention. In fact, the last printed card of the evening would reveal the name of the restaurant within the prose. She hoped it would help tell the story of a place that was meant to be a work space for innumerable creative culinary minds to come. It gave her chills when she thought about the big moment.
Laina was about to pull out of her parking spot and leave for the restaurant when she saw her yoga instructor walking toward her. She’d become friendly with Sienna over the past year, and was glad to know that she’d be attending the dinner that evening with her partner, Vivian, who was one of the most sought-after architects in town. It was Vivian who’d collaborated with Laina on the design for her restaurant, and who’d initially suggested her new client try out Sienna’s yoga class. They’d all become fast friends, and often had dinner or hiked together when their busy schedules allowed.
“So I was wondering what had prompted Aspen’s most eligible bachelor to check out my class this morning, but when you sat down next to him, it became pretty clear it wasn’t the Zen he was after. You should have felt the energy he was giving off in your direction! Although, I have to give him props for participation. He’s pretty flexible for such a big guy.” Sienna lifted her sunglasses off her face, propping them on top of her head. “What’s the story, girlfriend?”
Laina knew that Sienna was also very friendly with Willow and Garrett, and since Logan was Willow’s brother, she decided to play it safe with the girl talk. “Oh no. We’re just friends. We’ve been working together on this Walland House dinner, so we’ve definitely gotten to know each other a little bit better. But that’s all. Besides, he told me he’s a regular at the studio. He certainly wasn’t there to meet up with me.”
Sienna raised her eyebrows and made a face. “I haven’t ever had him in any of my classes, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been coming in the afternoons or evenings. Viv and I have had so much going on, I’ve had to let other teachers sub in for me a lot lately.”
Laina worried when she saw the shadow drift across Sienna’s features. “I hope it’s nothing serious?”
Sienna gave her a tired smile. “Nothing we can’t handle. We’re getting a game plan together. I’ll tell you more about it when we can hike together sometime. Now get out of here. I’ve kept you long enough. We can’t wait for that beautiful meal tonight! I’m on my way for a green juice now. I want to be good and hungry for whatever you’re preparing!”
They said goodbye, and Laina pulled away, finally heading for the restaurant. Glancing at her watch as she pulled up, she cursed, annoyed that she’d allowed herself to run thirty minutes late. It was a bad habit, one she’d acquired growing up in ultra-laid-back Southern California. Once she walked through the front door of her restaurant, though, she relaxed.
Van was there, stunningly handsome in he
ad-to-toe black, and he was already in complete command of the kitchen and the staff. The whir of knives chopping and dicing in tandem was soothing, and the intoxicating smell of onions, garlic, and fresh herbs hung in the air. Naturally, Van knew she’d be late, so he had compensated by arriving early to get things under way, allowing Laina to step in seamlessly and begin creating. She walked up to her friend and grabbed his face with both hands, planting a kiss on his cheek, grateful for the millionth time for his friendship.
“How was your yoga, lass? Do you feel like you’re blissed out enough to handle all of the stress tonight?” Van got to work clearing a small area of the countertop in order to start flouring eggplant for one of the courses. How he managed to keep his clothes so clean while he worked never ceased to amaze Laina. She’d have been covered in flour if she’d had Van’s job, too busy focusing on the food to worry about how clean she kept her chef’s jacket.
“How do you know that I went to yoga? Word sure travels fast in this town.” Laina finished buttoning up her coat and rolled up her sleeves to wash her hands.
Van looked surprised. “Well, I’m just guessing you went, because you usually do when you’ve got something important on your plate. Did you decide to skip it today?”
“No, you obviously know me well. I went to class. And guess who was there?”
She waited for Van’s response, which he pondered for a moment before providing.
“Gayatri Lima? I don’t know . . . that’s my best stab.”
It wasn’t a bad guess. The slinky supermodel was the host of one of the hottest cooking shows on cable, and Laina had read in the local paper that Gayatri had partnered with a large corporate sponsor to host Food and Wine Classic–themed yoga sessions throughout the weekend. Laina remembered that tomorrow’s kickoff class was entitled Sunny-Side Up: Sunrise Yoga.
“Nope, but good try. It was Logan. And, like a big dummy, I sat right next to him, which I’m sure he took as encouragement.” Laina sighed.
Van choked down the sip of water he’d just taken. “I’ll bet he did. I hope so anyway. I’m warming up to the fellow, but if you ever tell him that, I’ll deny it.”
Laina laughed. “Honestly, Van. The same goes for me. There’s something about him; he puts me at ease.” She paused, narrowing her eyes. “Just remember: loose lips sink ships. Logan doesn’t lack in confidence, so he doesn’t need to know that I’m softening. And by softening, I just mean I’m comfortable around him. It’s not that I’ve decided to go on a date with him. I’ll figure that out after this crazy weekend. So keep your lips zipped. I’m serious; don’t get on my bad side.”
Van knew better. “Your secret is safe with me, lass. Now enough of this nonsense. Let’s kick ass in this kitchen tonight.”
Eight hours later, they were both exhausted, exhilarated, and ready to serve the most exceptional food Aspen had ever tasted.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Walland House Dinner
first course
oblong melon bite
sweet, wet, juicy, succulent
mouth’s satisfaction
The small oval dish was set down before the diners, many of whom had just barely finished oohing and aahing over an amuse-bouche that included a small poached egg with a shaved black truffle on top. The beautiful red melon square had a dash of Celtic sea salt and a drizzle of blueberry oil and was perched on a bed of microgreens. The fresh and cool dish was perfection after the richness of the egg and truffle teaser.
Logan had invited Buck to be his date for the evening. They were seated at a table with India, Wyatt, Willow, Garrett, Susan, Finn, Violet, and Rex. Logan had made sure to stake his claim early, choosing a chair that gave him a prime seat from which to watch Laina work. She had an elegance about her as she moved fluidly amid her staff, and although she and Van had hardly spoken, they appeared to employ a wordless language between them. Logan had hoped she’d come out at the beginning to say a few words, but Laina appeared to be busy in the kitchen and had left that detail to Susan Eden and Finn Janssen, the married figureheads of the Walland House family and brand. Susan took the lead.
“Thank you all for joining us this evening. We are so honored to be part of this intimate group that gets to experience this one-of-a-kind meal served to us in such a remarkable space, and benefiting such an important cause. My family has been fortunate enough to know Chef Laina Ming for the past few years, having had the pleasure of her company as a guest chef for us back in Tennessee. Believe me when I say, you are in for a real treat tonight.”
Finn leaned in, still holding Susan’s hand while he spoke. “And after we fill your bellies and give you enough wine to loosen those wallets up, we’ll be auctioning off an item you’re gonna want to get in on. We’re calling it Luxury Survivor, and we intend for you to part with a bunch of money if you want a shot at this once-in-a-lifetime experience. Let’s see if we can get our friend Logan Matthews up here to tell us a little more about it. He is the man leading the trip, after all. Husbands, when your wives get a look at this guy, they’re gonna want you to dig deep, so be ready to spend.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd as Logan stood and set his napkin on the back of his chair, ducking his head in embarrassment. Finn had given him notice a few days before that he’d like him to speak, so Logan had taken a few moments earlier in the day to jot down some notes, pulling them out of his jacket pocket as he approached the front of the room.
On his way by the kitchen, he locked eyes with Laina, who flushed as she smiled back at him. She quickly returned to her work, the glimpse of that more private side of her showing only briefly.
Laina had to work hard to refocus on the food, because the way Logan looked in his fitted tan suit was exceptionally distracting.
The next course, a salad that incorporated a brined eggplant with macerated cherries and field greens, was being served as Logan made his way toward the front of the room.
second course
land giveth her gifts
welcome her goodness inside
earth’s bounty is love
Logan stood for a moment, enjoying the satisfied expressions worn by those who’d taken their first bite of the sumptuous vegetable dish. He could almost taste it himself as he soaked in their quiet appreciation for Laina’s culinary prowess. He glanced down at his notes before tucking them back into his jacket pocket and beginning to speak.
“I was honored when they asked me to plan this special experience for you all, and it looks like the weather is going to be just perfect. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll set off on a horseback adventure with my good friend and coworker, Buck Randolph over there, and eight of you.” Logan assessed the crowd, wondering who would be bidding. “We’ll ride through some of the most spectacular landscape the West has to offer, and arrive at a campsite that has been a week in the making. The ladies of Walland House have taken over our humble tents and outfitted them to look like something out of Architectural Digest. And you won’t be disappointed when it comes to mealtime either.”
Logan glanced over at Buck, who gave him a wink and a nod. He’d handled hearing the news that Laina would be taking over the cooking duties with no attitude whatsoever. He admitted that he was better suited to preparing breakfast, and had embraced his duties by combing the Web for unique breakfast recipes intended for camping. Logan was grateful for Buck’s easygoing temperament.
“Chef Laina Ming has agreed to come along for the adventure and prepare an incredible meal over an open flame. If tonight’s food is any indication, we’re a lucky few individuals who’ll get to enjoy another meal created by Chef Ming. Let’s give her a hand for her extreme generosity in hosting tonight and agreeing to accompany us on this mountain adventure tomorrow.”
The restaurant filled with applause while Logan made his way back to his seat, watching as Laina stopped working for a brief moment to raise her hand in acknowledgment of their appreciation.
third course
from the sea we
’ve coaxed
glistening white fish to eat
nourishment divine
The evening sped by, with each dish more remarkable than the next. Logan’s favorite so far was the exquisite ono fish nestled into a chayote soft shell and set sail on the most delicious river of broth he’d ever eaten. It was like tasting everything magical the ocean had to offer, composed within one incredibly complex bowl. Logan was sure of one thing: the Aspen food scene, as good as it already was, had just gotten a whole lot better. This was fine dining at its pinnacle, in a restaurant that had been transformed by copious amounts of candlelight into a moody, romantic space. It was dark outside by that time, but the bistro lights that had been strung in the nearby trees lit up the forest outside the large picture windows, making diners feel as if they were eating outdoors in some magical wooded glen.
The final dish was presented, along with the coffee that made Logan think of Laina for the umpteenth time that night. He took a sip of the fragrant brew and reached for his dessert.
conclusion
caramel temptress
salty, luxurious taste
sweet milk for balance
Logan leaned back in his chair to get another look into the kitchen. Laina was shaking hands with her staff as they congratulated each other for successfully completing the evening’s service. He tossed the last bite of the salted-caramel doughnut with mescal condensed milk into his mouth, convinced he’d never tasted anything so delicious. As he watched, Laina turned toward the dining room, her eyes seeking and then finding him almost immediately. She looked so genuinely happy, and as she licked her lips nervously and rewarded him with a huge smile, he knew that there was, in fact, something more desirable that he hadn’t yet tasted. The thought made him uncomfortable, and so he shifted in his chair, finally deciding to stand.
He was about to push back his chair when the waiters made one final pass, handing each diner a last slip of parchment paper. Logan felt a chill as he read the printed words.
