Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance

by Michelle M. Pillow

  ‘She’s taking the roasted hens out of the oven and placing them aside. She seems to have recovered from the blazing fire, but I’m still not sure what she’s going to do with the sautéed black mushrooms,’ the man whispered, cupping his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘I’m telling you, Contiello, it looks like she knows what she’s doing.’

  Jackson frowned, tapping the man on his thin shoulder. He jolted in surprise, dropping his phone. Jackson leant over and caught it.

  ‘Ah, thanks,’ the man stammered, reaching to take the phone.

  Jackson lifted his finger, gesturing for the man to hold on a moment before lifting the phone to his ear. Contiello’s distinct voice hissed through the earpiece. ‘Get me someone who knows what they’re talking about. So help me, this sniveling bitch isn’t going to out-cook me!’

  Contiello was cheating. Jackson glared at the thin man, flipping the phone shut. At the click, Contiello looked up.

  ‘I, ah …’ The man backed away slowly.

  Jackson ignored the man and stared instead at Contiello, forcing a smile he didn’t feel as he lifted the phone. He wiggled it back and forth to taunt the chef. Even from a distance, Jackson could see the man’s enraged expression.

  Jackson turned, throwing the phone at the man. ‘Get out of here.’

  *

  ‘Ten minutes,’ Jeremy said, his voice booming overhead.

  Zoe trembled. She’d been going at a fast pace since the timer had started, wishing for it all to be over. Now, as the end loomed, she wished for just twenty more minutes of time to make sure everything came out perfectly. She quickly shook the skillet and dropped it back down on the burner, then hurried to the rack with all the utensils and pots. Along one edge square plates, rounded plates, serving trays, trenchers, trio plates and bowls were laid out in pairs.

  She chose the set of square plates for their larger size because of the hens, then grabbed the sliced green tomato she’d cut earlier. She dipped the slices in an egg-and-butter-milk bath before coating them with flour and spices. A loud sizzle sounded as she threw them in the oil. As they cooked, she took the hens from the oven, then paused to flip the tomatoes before moving the glazed hens stuffed with apricots to one corner of the square plates. They took up nearly half the space. Taking the fried green-tomato slices, she stacked three on one side and then piled on orzo mixed with the green beans, Romano cheese and vine-ripened tomatoes. She made the second plate exactly the same, as per the competition rules.

  Breathing hard, she looked up and backed away. The audience clapped. Her eyes scanned them for Jackson, but he wasn’t in his place.

  ‘One minute,’ Jeremy announced.

  Zoe’s eyes darted back to the plates. She’d forgotten the green-herb sauce drizzle. Her heartbeat had never really calmed, but now it practically leapt from her chest. Frantic, she looked for where she’d placed the bottle.

  ‘Thirty seconds.’ The clock counted down the time.

  Seeing it shoved in a corner behind a stack of her dirty pans, she rushed toward it. The white cloth separating her from Contiello caught her eye briefly. She wondered how he fared. Was he done? Was his meal brilliant? Shaking, she grabbed the bottle and hurried across to her plates. The crowd began to shout the countdown. ‘Six, five, four, three …’

  Zoe squeezed the bottle, dripping several dots and lines on the white porcelain plates around the orzo.

  ‘… two, one!’

  A buzzer sounded. Zoe put down the bottle and stepped away. A strange mixture of relief and fear washed through her. She again looked up, needing to see Jackson. Her eyes scanned the crowd, finally finding him along the edge. He smiled at her and her heart nearly melted. A calmness came over her. When she looked at her sexy boyfriend, the stress faded. Though nerves still fluttered in her stomach, she had a sense of reality. No matter what happened, Jackson would still be there for her.

  Getting the plates in front of the judges took what seemed like an eternity. When it was aired, the show would be scaled down to an hour, but now they had to wait while the judges’ table was set up and the cameras moved into place. The first judge, Margot Littman, was a culinary reporter for a major California newspaper and the second, Jonah Mirran, worked as an instructor at a culinary school in New York. Since the school had a sister institute in Paris, Zoe felt her stomach drop. Before they’d started, they hadn’t been told who the judges would be. She’d known that Jackson had pushed for a couple that would be fair, but he hadn’t cheated and told her who he’d asked for. Jackson had said that if he’d told her, she’d always wonder if she could’ve won without the advantage. He’d refused to rob her moment from her in such a way. Though curiosity had nearly killed her, she’d had to admit he was right. He’d also assured her that they would be fair and not give her special treatment because of who she was dating.

  Contiello went first. The round white plate displayed the hens fried up like a mini-chicken and placed on a bed of orzo and a sauce. Since she couldn’t see the green tomatoes or the beans, she could only guess he’d puréed them and mixed they with the orzo.

  The judges took a small bite, studying the taste as they dined. Contiello said, ‘I am naming it Peppercorn Hen with Pepper Orzo. I wanted to showcase the delicate nature of the bird.’

  ‘Interesting use of the green tomatoes,’ Margot said. ‘I noticed you made a big batch of the sauce when you were cooking. It watered down the flavor of the tomato itself and is overpowered by the peppers.’

  ‘I think the sauce is good,’ Jonah said. ‘An interesting idea. I’ll definitely give you points for creating it, but I agree the green tomatoes were too washed out of the flavor.’

  ‘The hen is adorable when cut in such a way, but frying the bird takes much of the flavor of the meat from it,’ Margot added.

  Zoe swallowed, waiting on every word as they picked apart Contiello’s meal. When they’d finished, there were just enough compliments and critiques to make her worry. Contiello nodded and smiled, thanking them.

  When it was her turn, Zoe stepped up to the tables as her plates were served.

  ‘This is a hearty meal,’ Margot said, giving a small laugh. It was hard to tell if the words were a joke or a criticism.

  ‘I was inspired by my recent time in the South. I wanted to draw from that experience, as I believe cooking to be an extension of who we are and what we do. I call it Apricot Hen Dabery with Romano Orzo and Fried Green Tomatoes.’ She glanced at Jackson, letting a small smile curl the side of her lips briefly. Zoe tensed as the judges took several small bites, tasting it much as they had Contiello’s.

  ‘I love how the sweetness of the apricots flavors the meat. They were cooked just enough before insertion not be overpowering, leaving the Cornish hen tasting like hen,’ Jonah said.

  Margot didn’t smile, her eyes steady as she looked at her plate. She chose her words carefully. ‘The tomatoes are a fun, Southern accent to the meal. Their texture complements the orzo.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Zoe nodded once, encouraged.

  ‘The glaze is a little sweet,’ she continued. ‘But when I push it aside and get to the meat, I have to agree with Jonah. The flavor of the hen is quite good.’

  Jeremy ushered the two chefs to the kitchen area so the judges could confer and make their ruling. Zoe waited, her feet tapping in apprehension. Finding Jackson, she stared at him.

  ‘I love you,’ he mouthed slowly so she could read his lips.

  ‘The judges have made their decision,’ Jeremy said, joining them in front. ‘Chef Contiello.’

  Zoe felt her heart drop. Contiello bowed his head.

  ‘I’m sorry, but you are not our winner.’ Jeremy turned his beaming face toward her. ‘Chef Matthews, you have reigned supreme today on Battle Chefs!’

  The crowd cheered, but she didn’t hear it. Her mouth open wide, she turned to Jackson, lifting her hand. He hurried to her, hugging her tight as he spun her around in circles.

  ‘I knew you could do it,’ he whispered. ‘I’m s
o proud of you.’

  ‘This is rigged!’ Contiello fumed. Not even trying to be a graceful loser, he marched off stage.

  Zoe barely paid him any attention. She felt vindicated. She’d won, proven herself the best chef. Gazing up at Jackson, she ignored the camera zooming close to her face. ‘Thank you, Jackson. Thank you for everything.’

  Jackson held her in his arms, studying her in the strong studio light. ‘I like the idea of a winter wedding.’

  Zoe, unsure she’d heard right, pulled back. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I’ve wanted to say this for a long time, but I wanted to wait until after today. I’ve never felt like this, Zoe. I want to be with you.’ He kissed her mouth before pulling back. ‘Always. I know it hasn’t been very long, but when you know, you know. I want to be with you.’

  A loud cheer went up over the stage. That’s when she noticed Jeremy’s microphone next to them and the announcer standing to the side.

  ‘Jackson?’ Zoe asked, trying to take it all in. This was the perfect moment. Her emotions soared and she was afraid of them coming down. ‘I don’t think I understand. Did you just say …? Did you ask me to …?’ She gasped, unable to breathe.

  ‘Say you’ll marry me in the winter,’ Jackson whispered into her ear. ‘I want the world to know I love you.’

  Her heart beat fast in her chest and a tear slipped over her cheek. A single word piped from her throat. ‘OK.’

  ‘Really?’ A wide, happy grin spread over his features.

  Zoe nodded enthusiastically, still unable to say everything she wanted to tell him. Her emotions overflowed, too many and too powerful to be expressed in words, so instead she kissed him, pouring her heart into the embrace.

  ‘And there you have it!’ Jeremy pulled the microphone in front of him to address the crowd and cameras at the same time. ‘Anything really can happen when you’re in the kitchen! Be sure to join us next time on …’ He held the microphone toward the crowd as they yelled, ‘Battle Chefs!’

  ‘I love you, Zoe. I don’t care what happens, so long as I have you. Things like houses and where we live don’t matter, so long as you’re mine. Everything else will work out.’ Jackson lifted her off the ground, laughing as he twirled her in the air.

  Zoe finally managed to speak, saying, ‘I am yours, Jackson. I love you. Forever.’

  Epilogue

  After his poor display of sportsmanship on national television, Chef Contiello had a hard time finding a new position after Sedurre closed its doors for good. He is now the head chef at a sports bar and grill. His agent won’t return his calls.

  Jefferson and Madelyn adopted a young girl from China. They plan on going overseas several more times until every corner of their house is filled with children. Jefferson is applying to his brother for a loan. He wants to open his own winery.

  Callie is happy to have Bob back at work. Over half the things he fixed around the house while on vacation from work broke. Bob has revamped Renée’s menu. Gaz-pay-cho Salsa is a big hit with the customers.

  Jackson and Zoe were married in winter following Zoe’s win on Battle Chefs. The ceremony took place at their South Carolina home, just as Beatrice knew it would all along. They lived in New York for eighteen months while Zoe made a name for herself in the culinary world. It wasn’t always easy with Jackson’s work taking him all over the country, but she went with him whenever she could. After her contract was up she moved to South Carolina, where she is currently working on her first cookbook. The Silverback investors were sorry to see her go. Zoe had guest spots on Battle Chefs a few times and these days there is talk of her own culinary show. No contacts have been signed.

  Kat takes the Richmond family jet to visit them often, using the new private airstrip on the edge of Jackson’s land. Beatrice is now content to bother her two youngest daughters for sons-in-law. As for Megan, Zoe and Kat, she’s begging them for more grandchildren. Zoe and Jackson haven’t told her yet, but they’re expecting in fall.

  Available this month from Rouge Romance:

  THE LOVER by Nicole Jordan

  Niall McLaren was as dangerous and beguiling as the Highlands itself, a man unparalleled in the arts of war and love. Even in the stately ballrooms of Edinburgh where Sabrina Duncan first laid eyes on the powerful laird, he exuded an intoxicating sensuality. It was rumoured that the touch of his lips could draw the very soul from a woman’s body – and when he pulled Sabrina into his arms, she couldn’t help but long for more.

  When Niall recognises Sabrina as the enticing lass whose kisses enflamed his passion, the married life he once dreaded suddenly becomes a world of unexplored pleasures. Yet for all their beauty, the wild hills of Scotland are a place where ancient feuds and hidden secrets create unimagined peril for the lovers.

  Red-hot romance…

  www.rougeromance.co.uk

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  First published in 2008 by Cheek, London

  Published in the UK in 2012 by Rouge, an imprint of Ebury Publishing

  A Random House Group Company

  Copyright © 2008 by Michelle M Pillow

  Michelle M Pillow has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

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