Fire In the Kitchen

by Donna Allen

  “Yes, that little scene you have there was amusing, and we had a bit of fun, but you must understand it was all taken out of context,” Dante said, smooth as marble.

  “How so?”

  “We’d had a long day and it was our way of blowing off steam. It was just a refreshing dip in the ocean, just a laugh we now know will also be enjoyed by the viewers. It could have happened to any of us. It was nothing.”

  Cassidy felt her stomach tighten. She felt like she was going to be sick.

  “Oh really?” The interviewer knew she had Dante trumped. “So, when you say it was nothing, you really mean she means nothing to you?”

  “Other than admiring her as a talented cook and a nice person to be around, there’s no relationship.” He flashed a smile at the interviewer. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “So, you won’t be seeing her again after the finals?”

  “We have nothing in common other than food, so can we get back to talking about that?”

  Dante looked over at Cassidy and, as she felt her chin start to quiver, she also finally understood. He wasn’t a man who could be happy to accept her unconditionally, and couldn’t embrace her lighthearted behavior in public. She’d been humiliated beyond belief. Any warm feelings she’d had left for him had been put into a cooler, along with several bags of ice.

  Cassidy kept a brave face until the interviews were complete. She said her farewells, thanked the producers for their time, and discreetly left via a back staff exit. The red door creaked open and sunlight welcomed her face.

  “Cassidy, wait.” Dante called out to her. She ignored him and fled along the paved path. She heard his footsteps and started to run. Evading him would be difficult, but she couldn’t bear to talk about what he’d just said about her. She aimed for the large white gum tree in a secluded corner and scrambled against the rough bark on its trunk to climb it as fast as she could. She settled on a hefty branch before looking down to address the sound of a branch snapping below. Dante was right behind her, cursing.

  “Hi.” He sat on a nearby limb, slightly out of breath.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Cassidy looked down to make sure no one else had followed.

  “I’m a grown man climbing a tree.” He rubbed a fresh graze on his arm.

  The wind was strong, so she held on tight. “I wasn’t talking about you being a poor imitation of Tarzan.”

  “I know.” Dante moved toward her branch. “I’m an ass. It came out all wrong in there.”

  Cassidy put her hand out to stop him from moving closer. “I really don’t want to do this.”

  “Although I’ve always had a public façade, I’m a very private person.” Dante bit his bottom lip. “I think we should be judged by the food we cook, not how we feel toward each other.”

  “Now you feel something?”

  “I always did. Don’t you?”

  Cassidy climbed down the tree and jumped to the ground. She looked up and shrugged. “Stop playing games with my emotions and we’ll see.”

  Chapter 17

  Tap, tap.

  Tap, tap.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  The annoying sound woke Cassidy from a deep sleep. The sixteen-hour days were taking their toll, and she always looked forward to the moment her head hit the pillow. Often she was too tired to get into her pajamas, so she stripped down to just her underwear. Tonight had been one of those times. It had been a long day that had fused into night.

  Her heart rate reacted to the noise before her mind had had time to make the leap between her dreams and being awake. The insistent rapping did not cease, and she forced her eyes to try to see in the darkness as she sat up in bed.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “It’s Pearl, love.” The older registrar’s voice croaked through the door. “Open up.”

  “Pearl?” A nervous wave swept through Cassidy’s body. She ran her hands through her hair and rubbed her eyes. “Just a minute.”

  Pulling the sheet around her, toga style, she swung herself over the bed and tripped over one of her shoes.

  “Ouch. Stupid thing.”

  “Cassidy? You all right in there?”

  “Yes. I’m coming, I’m coming.”

  She made her way to the door and fumbled for the light switch. She took a look at her messy reflection in the mirror and decided she should really start removing her mascara in the evenings.

  Swinging the door open, she said, “Another early morning challenge?” Her words faded away when she noticed Pearl wasn’t alone.

  She looked at the producers and then her gaze connected with Pearl’s. She read an expression in them she hadn’t seen before. She’d seen bemusement, she’d seen exasperation, she’d seen impatience. It took her a moment to decipher it, but it hit her like steam being forced from a pressure cooker.

  It was worry.

  Worry for her.

  “What is it?” she whispered. “What’s happened?”

  Pearl reached for her hand and squeezed it.

  “Your soon-to-be stepfather is on the phone.”

  Cassidy pulled an edge of her sheet around her tighter. The producers appeared to be interested in getting a better look at what was or wasn’t beneath it. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Get dressed. We’ll take you to speak with him.” Pearl gently pushed her away from the view of the producers and started to close the door. “We’ll wait for you out here.”

  The competition rules were very strict. They were only permitted to take calls during certain hours, and they’d been warned about not discussing the format of the program or its progress. Cell phones weren’t allowed in their rooms under any circumstances to prevent cheating. Cassidy cursed under her breath about the idiocy of her phone being confiscated as she put on the nearest clothing she could find. A T-shirt stained with beetroot, old jeans, and sneakers without socks.

  In less than a minute, they were making their way to the producers’ office. Their footsteps in the hallway sounded hollow, as if the sound they made as they bounced off the lilac walls were closing in on her.

  “Why won’t you tell me what’s happened?” Cassidy’s voice came out in quick breaths as they made their way quickly downstairs. “It’s my mum, isn’t it? The baby?”

  “I don’t know, Cassidy. He refused to tell anyone except you.” Pearl was having trouble keeping up with her.

  “No, no, no.” Cassidy was running now, the others several steps behind. She saw a flash of long auburn hair before it disappeared around the corner. As they entered the common room, a producer walked over to her with a wireless phone and placed it in her hand.

  Dante appeared from around the same corner she’d seen the woman’s hair and rushed over to Cassidy. “What’s going on?” he said.

  Cassidy pointed to the area Dante had come from. “What were you doing with Valerie?”

  Dante glanced at the producers before he replied. “I’ll fill you in later.”

  “Anything I need to know?”

  “No. Trust me.” Dante put his hand on her shoulder. It felt comforting. She had more important things to worry about than an unsubstantiated envious moment.

  Pearl tried to sit her down to take the call, but Cassidy refused. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and spoke into the phone.

  “Gary, what’s happened?” She tried not to picture her mother in trouble, like when she’d collapsed at the café a few weeks before, but the image was impossible to ignore.

  “I’ve got bad news, sweetie,” Gary said.

  “What is it? No, wait a sec. I’m too scared for you to tell me.” Cassidy’s voice croaked, sounding unnatural.

  Dante sat on a nearby seat and pulled her onto his lap. She kept the phone to her ear but sunk into the comfort of his chest without fighting it. She breathed in his strength, which gave her the courage to learn her unknown dilemma. She took a deep breath and spoke into the phone again.

  “Tell me, Gary.”

  “Your mum’s oka
y, but you’re still going to be very upset.”

  Relief seeped into her bones. Her mum was okay. She could still talk to her, laugh with her, have her mother’s love.

  “How upsetting? Is the baby okay? You’re scaring me.”

  “There’s been a fire.”

  “What?”

  “A fire, at the café.”

  “Our café?” Cassidy’s world started to spin on a wobbly axis. “It can’t be at the café. It’s Monday morning, isn’t it? It was closed last night. There must be a mistake.”

  “There’s no mistake, Cass. It’s still burning. The fire department is working hard to put it out, but there’s not going to be anything left to salvage. I’m waiting for the police.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Cassidy shook her head as Dante held her tight.

  “Amy’s on her way with your mother because she wants to make sure you’re okay. Don’t worry if they won’t let you talk to her, we’ll manage. We know how important the competition is to you.”

  Cassidy heard a siren in the background before Gary confirmed the police had arrived.

  “I’m seeing Mum, and I’m leaving with her so we can be together, whether they say I can or not, dammit. Besides, without the café my reason for being here is pointless.” She looked at one of the producers and wondered if the sudden glint in his eye was a trick of the light.

  “Don’t do anything rash. We want you to stay where you are. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ll keep you updated,” Gary said and hung up the phone.

  Adrenaline kicked in. Letting her emotions take over wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Cassidy looked at one of the producers like she meant business.

  “I have to go.”

  “No. You’d be breaking your contract.” His mousy brown hair was clumped together and she found it oddly distracting. “We’re too close to production to have any interruptions. You leave now, you’re out of the show. Not only that, you’ll also be breaking the indemnity clause.”

  Dante scowled at him with a look of such fierceness that Cassidy was glad he was on her side. “Can’t you see she’s shattered? Show some compassion, man.”

  He placed his hands on Cassidy’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “What’s happened?”

  “The café’s on fire,” she said, covering her face with her hands.

  “How bad?”

  “Bad bad.”

  “Anyone hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “Oh no, I was so worried about Mum, I didn’t think to ask. I hope not. I have to see it for myself.”

  “Okay.”

  He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and turned back to the producers. Ignoring Eric, he looked at Joe. He knew Cassidy had been friendly with him.

  “She has to go, Joe, but she’ll be back.”

  He shook his head in response, but it was obvious he was struggling with the decision.

  “Joe, please,” Cassidy said. Although the situation was stressful, she knew she had to be strong. “If it was Pamela who needed you, wouldn’t you go?”

  A car horn tooted. Cassidy ran to the window and looked out. Her friend’s battered yellow VW was in the driveway. Inside it were two people in the world whom she loved fiercely.

  “You’ve got ten minutes,” Joe said. “Then you have to come back inside.”

  The car beeped again, three long blasts. Lights flickered on from floors above. Cassidy ran out the door and into the night.

  Amy was waiting for her outside the car. She opened the back door and Cassidy got in followed by Amy.

  “Mum,” Cassidy choked.

  The three of them clung to each other for a long time, unable to speak. Only a few weeks had passed since she’d seen them, but tonight it felt like a lifetime. Cassidy felt as if all her senses had become finely tuned. The streetlights seemed brighter, the idling car engine louder, her breathing sharper. It felt as though a rock had been forced on her chest, an obstacle to her normal breathing. Amy must have been eating takeaway chicken recently because the smell of cheap cooking fat permeated the seats and made Cassidy feel nauseous.

  “How bad?” Cassidy broke the silence.

  Amy explained they’d smelled the smoke before they’d seen it. The end of the street had been barricaded, and several people had gathered to watch the bright orange and red flames lick and tease their beloved café. The spectators had been like urban vultures, out for a thrill at another’s expense, like people who slow their cars when they see a horrific car accident. Would Cassidy have done the same thing in a similar situation? Maybe.

  Things are very different when they happen to you.

  Everything was surreal.

  All those dreams she’d shared with her father, gone.

  The notebooks held her extension plans, and the pictures of her younger parents that had adorned the walls showed Cassidy in pigtails and barely reaching the countertops. Had anything been saved? This was the only thing she had left of him. His dream had become her dream, father to daughter. Keeping the café alive had kept him alive in her heart. All her plans for the extensions, all their treasured recipes.

  Gone.

  All gone.

  Cassidy held her mother, who sobbed quietly. She pulled her closer and gave her the gift of quiet strength. Strength that came from places she hadn’t known existed.

  “It’s okay, Mum, let it all out.”

  “All those years…Your father would be heartbroken.”

  Cassidy found a sad-looking tissue in her jeans pocket and handed it to her mother.

  “I’m sorry, Mum.”

  “It’s you I feel so badly for. It’s why you entered that competition, to keep the dream alive.”

  Her mother examined the not-so-clean tissue and then blew her nose into it anyway.

  Amy was looking out the window at the producers waiting at the entrance.

  Vultures of a different variety, but still unscrupulous.

  Cassidy tapped Amy on the shoulder.

  “Can you call Gary and let him know we’re on our way?”

  “It’s my fault,” Amy said without turning around. “I…I ruined everything.”

  “Of course it isn’t.” Cassidy’s mother sounded surprised. “What are you talking about? You weren’t even there.”

  “Yes I was. I came in last night and baked teacakes for my acting group. I was in a hurry. Maybe I left something on in the kitchen, like the gas, and it just exploded.”

  “Amy, no,” Cassidy sighed and leaned over the seat to hug her. “You never would’ve left anything on. You were always running around telling off scatterbrained me.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I know you.” Cassidy rubbed her friend’s tattooed shoulder. “Give me your phone, please.”

  Amy sighed and handed it over. Cassidy had only half dialed Gary’s number when Dante opened the front passenger door and got in. He swiveled around and gave them a resigned smile. “Your time’s up, Cassidy. You have to come back inside with me.”

  “I’m not going back in there.” Cassidy shook her head. “I’m going home. My family needs me.”

  “Oh, no you’re not.” Cassidy’s mother’s voice had a no-nonsense tone reminiscent of Cassidy’s childhood. “The café’s gone, Cassidy. There’s nothing left to save. You have to stay here and grab this chance with both hands. Don’t turn bad news into something even worse. Go back inside and give us something to look forward to.”

  “No,” Cassidy said, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “We’re going home, claiming the insurance, and rebuilding straight away. There’s no time to lose.”

  Cassidy’s mother rubbed her eyes before she replied. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, and I can assure you it wasn’t your fault, Amy.”

  Cassidy felt a wave of trepidation press the panic button to her emotions. Her words came out as a harsh whisper. “What’s going on?”

  “There was a sign of forced entry.”

  *
<
br />   Dante tried to create a ticking clock for the producers. He got out of Amy’s car and demanded they give her twenty-four hours to sort things out, or they could find two more semi-finalists. The words were out of his mouth before his brain had time to catch up with the possible implications. But all he had to do was talk her into coming back with him when she’d done what she had to do. Simple, right?

  The producers didn’t think so. They reminded him how much the show had already gone over budget, and how much an extra day without filming would cost them.

  They refused her the extra time, and although Cassidy’s mother and friend tried to convince her to stay, Cassidy remained stubborn in her decision to leave with them. They drove away.

  Dante clenched his fists as he told the producers he didn’t want to be in a competition that put rules and clauses above a competitor’s basic need to support their loved ones in times of distress.

  They admired his sentiments, but deadlines were looming and they couldn’t rely on Cassidy returning of her own free will. Whatever Dante chose to do, it would make a great story, and Carlos and the other remaining chef would be more than willing to go straight into the grand finale without a semi-final taking place at all.

  Dante said a slightly less than cordial goodbye and left.

  * * * *

  The next day, he fell back into his usual routine of running his restaurant by the sea. He spent the morning with his chefs, and in the late afternoon, he settled at one of his best tables to sample the dishes they’d created in his absence. Satisfied they were more than good enough to be kept on the menu, he looked beyond the walls and floor of glass to enjoy the uninterrupted view of the ocean. The jutting triangle of glass had won many architectural awards. Many didn’t realize it had only come about because he’d insisted it could be done, even though he’d been unsure of the intricacies of the technical feat. He’d wanted it, he’d gotten it, it was as simple as that. Now, he didn’t know what he wanted. The lines were constantly blurred with images of Cassidy in his mind.