Now gracing the walls are pictures of Chef Sterling and her family as well as her as a young chef in the kitchens of Seduction Portland. Wandering over to a few of them, I note, “You have good hands.”
“I see the same in Marcel. He just needs to further his training some more.” With great fondness, she admits, “God, the number of days I wanted to yell back at Chef Palazzo for lecturing me over the need to cut the asparagus exactly the same way.”
“And now you’re doing the same thing to him?”
“We create experiences here. Some of the best compliments we can receive are quality and consistency.” She hesitates. “Another is innovation. I can help with the first two, but the third is why people will come back.”
“I disagree,” I counter immediately.
“Really?” Her arms fold over her chest. “Why?”
“I went to a restaurant not too long ago where generations of people fight to retain their seats—so much so they will their reservations to their relatives. The menu is essentially the same now as it was the day the doors were opened. It’s not ridiculous in cost, but what struck me about the restaurant was the experience. The quality of the food was everything it was hyped up to be, the service was impeccable, the atmosphere was unparalleled. That isn’t built on one personal alone. That’s built on a team. That’s why Seduction is becoming a force—because we’re a team. I don’t succeed out there because I’m good at what I do. I’m great at what I do because I have a top-notch team supporting me. That’s the only way to succeed.”
Chef Sterling blinks at me. Then she says, “Not too long ago, I worried we were going to lose you.”
“Lose me? Why?”
“Because Billy Spencer was an ass,” she says bluntly. My mouth forms a perfect O even as she continues. “Now, I hope we can use your passion for this team to influence the others.” Walking past me, she opens the door to her office. “Jonas Rice called not too long ago. He should be outside shortly for the next big portion of your interview. I agreed. I’ll work with Jean while you’re speaking with him.”
“But, we’re nowhere near prepped for dinner rush,” I sputter.
“Trust me, Chef. I won’t let you down.” And the quietness with which the words are spoken tell me they’re not just about prep, but about Sterling doing her job here at Seduction. A warmth spreads through me.
“And I won’t let the team down.” I jerk my chin up as I pass by.
“I never thought you would” floats out behind me as I make my way toward the kitchen doors. Shedding my hat and net, I push through the cool stainless steel and find my surprise guest waiting.
And not unlike before, my heart reacts before my brain does.
“Jonas,” I greet him when I approach.
“Trina.” I flush when his eyes rake over me from head to toe. “Would you be comfortable at our normal table?”
“That’s fine. Thank you.” My thighs quake when I feel the warmth of his hand through my chef’s jacket. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I haven’t. Not for over a week. It’s becoming a problem. I keep having these dreams.” I have to stifle my giggle at the frustration in his voice.
“For shame, Mr. Rice. This is a professional interview,” I scold him.
“Are you willing to share with me the ingredients for your cheesecake?” he demands.
“Nope.” I pop the p like I just popped a bubble.
“Then this isn’t a professional anything yet.” After scanning the restaurant to make sure we don’t have any eyes and ears on us, he lifts my hand to his mouth, murmuring, “I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
“You just saw me last night. If I remember correctly, after Annie and Chris went to bed, I went to sleep remembering the kissing that occurred on my bed.”
Jonas lets out an agonized groan. “I’ve never bean this way about a woman, Trina.”
“Me neither.” And it takes a Herculean effort to admit that to him. “But all of this will be over soon.” Jonas rears back as if I’ve slapped him. I hastily add, “The interviews, the critique of the restaurant. Christ, Jonas. You have me tied up in so many knots, I don’t even know what to make.”
“I don’t carrot all. I’m sure whatever it is will be fabulous,” he says loyally.
“See, that? That’s part of the issue.” Sadly, I disengage my hand. “You should care. You’re a professional; so am I. We both worked too hard to get to the top of our game, and despite these feelings I have for you…”
“Let’s explore that.” He pounces on my last statement.
“Not here!” I explode. There’s a deathly quiet between us. “Here I just spent the last twenty minutes explaining to my executive chef she could rely on me because I’m a team player. I’m one person, but I’m supported by a team back there, Jonas. I can’t—no, I won’t let them down.”
Sitting back, chastised, he replies, “I understand.”
“Do you? Because you’re distracting me from kicking your ass.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Jonas proposes.
I groan. He laughs. “Just hear me out. This will be the last time I interview you in Seduction prior to the review. I’ll ask everything I need today so you can focus here. But when we’re together, Trina, it won’t be recipes we’ll be discussing.” Beneath the edge of the table, his thumb strokes my inner wrist. “Is that a deal?”
“Deal. So, what’s your first question?”
Pressing Record on his phone, Jonas asks, “You’ve said over and over it’s a team effort at Seduction. Can you elaborate on that?”
And I do. For the next hour, Jonas fires off question after question at me until I’m hoarse. But when it’s done, I know I represented not only uniqueness of Seduction New York, but more importantly the people who work here. And no matter what, I trust Jonas to represent that in his article.
Standing, he shakes my hand so to Baptiste, who’s just wandered in for his shift, our conversation appears conventional. But his words are as tantalizing as the single finger that strokes along my inner wrist. “How about I meet all of you tomorrow morning at your apartment? Plus, you’ve got a new challenge tonight.”
“Oh?” I raise a brow at him.
“Hmm. Figure out something for all of us to do. That’s within budget, of course. I, after all, got us to the zoo.” There’s a smile that’s fighting to erupt on his face.
I lean a little closer. “Keep your phone on. By the time I walk out of here tonight, we’ll have plans.”
“Or what?”
Letting his hand go, I step back. “That’s for you to decide. Thank you for your time.”
“No, Ms. Paxton. As always, thank you for yours.” He tips his head.
I turn without another word and saunter back toward the kitchen to relieve my boss and to support my team.
I’ll figure out how to satisfy Jonas later.
Chapter 24
Trina
I never thought it was possible to feel this way. How did I never understand the powerful emotions capable of being evoked? And each time we’re out and about exploring, I’m falling more in love.
With New York.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Head spinning crazily, I try to absorb all the oohs and ahhs from the people around me as we’re all agog at a dinosaur too enormous to be confined to one room. “Three,” I manage to get out to my companion. “It takes up three rooms.”
“It’s called the Titanosaurus for a reason, T,” Jonas jokes.
Chris is shrieking is glee along with the other children who were admitted for free due to their age to the Museum of Natural History. The buy-one-get-one-free coupon I saw advertised online during a break last night at work made our visit unstoppable.
I spent all morning bragging about the deal to Jonas even as the two of us fought over who would be pushing the stroller throughout the museum. That was after he kissed me senseless.
“I know they won’t remember this; they’re t
oo young,” I begin.
Jonas’s arm tightens around my shoulders. “You don’t think so? Maybe they won’t remember everything about today, but if Chris looks at a book of dinosaurs in a few years, we’ll remind him of the fact he could barely shut up to appreciate it.”
Unable to comprehend his use of the word “we,” I’m silent until he turns and grins. “Now, what you really have to worry about is whether Annie’s going to have hearing damage.”
Jolted from my reverie, I manage to pitch my voice just above the cacophony of sound without blasting his ears anymore. “Since her head’s turning each time either of us speaks, I think it’s all good on that front.”
Dropping a friendly kiss on the side of my head, he asks, “Any desire to push through the horde surrounding the Star of India? If so, we should make our way downstairs.”
I shake my head. “Another time. I think the natives have hit their cultural capacity.”
And on cue, Annie tips her head back. “Mama, hungry.”
“Me too.” Chris’s lip begins to tremble.
Lifting my wrist, I grin at the impossibility my children have a built-in alarm clock since it’s noon exactly. “Well, Mr. Rice, it appears the natives are restless. Care to join us for lunch?” I wiggle my butt to shake the backpack I’ve been wearing all morning.
“That all depends. What’s on the menu?” he teases.
“PB&J.” My voice is haughty, as if I just declared the backpack I’ve been carrying for hours was just nominated for a Michelin star.
Pursing his lips, he informs me, “I’m extremely critical of PB&J. Are the crusts cut off?”
“Of course. To indicate otherwise is an insult to the establishment.”
Stepping so close our bodies touch, his words are a caress when he asks, “Triangles?”
My breath caught in my lungs, I get out, “Four squares.”
“Hmm. I wonder what management will do to compensate me if I don’t like the deviation from tradition.”
I brush a kiss under his jaw. “Management is going to tell you it’s nouveau cuisine.”
“In other words, I’m going to hate it.” He grins to show me he’s kidding.
“We’ll see.” Twisting the stroller around in the crowded space, I announce, “Who wants to go to the park for lunch?”
Two little hands immediately shoot up from my kids. But what sends both me and Jonas into mutual hysteria is the dozens of hands from the children nearby who heard my proclamation and are obviously just as done as mine are.
“I think there’s something missing.”
I lean over, shove the last bite of my sandwich in his mouth. “If your mouth is full, I can’t listen to you criticize the way I cut the sandwiches further.”
Grinning at me around a mouthful of PB&J, Jonas relaxes back against his elbows while I monitor the kids running in circles yelling like banshees. “My evil plan worked.” His words come out mashed together likely because his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth. Snagging his bottle of water, he takes a quick glug before announcing for the third time since we started eating, “Your peanut butter ratio is off.”
“I’m going to pour the rest of my drink over your head,” I warn him, not for the first time. But I’m too busy grinning at him to make good on my threat.
Is this how falling in love is supposed to feel? Where the moments of laughter slide into moments of perpetual bliss? Where little moments of normal combine together to form a big ball of everything? Terrified of my thoughts, I face forward and wonder how my life got so far off course the last few weeks. “It was just supposed to be an interview,” I whisper my thoughts aloud.
“What was?” Jonas sits up next to me, bracing an arm perilously close to my butt. Part of me wants nothing more than to lean back against him. The other part—the part that’s had few people to rely on—is afraid. I don’t want to learn the hard way I’m a fool, this time with my kids so emotionally invested in “Nono.”
“We were supposed to just be having an interview,” I improvise quickly.
Then, much to my consternation, the joy of the day falls away. “Okay, Chef. It’s an unusual setting, so you’ll have to excuse me for not being as professional as I normally might be under the circumstances,” he drawls, ice dripping from his voice.
I wince at the change in his demeanor, so relaxed just a moment ago, as he slides his cell from his pocket. Pushing a few buttons, he places his phone between us. “What do you enjoy doing on your days off, Chef Paxton?”
I hate his voice has changed from relaxed to rigid. “Don’t, please. I’m sorry.”
Fathomless dark eyes hold mine for long moments before he grabs the phone. Cursing, he presses a button before flinging it aside. “I didn’t deserve that,” he says bluntly.
“No, you didn’t.” I pinch my fingers on the bridge of my nose to release the pressure building before telling him something I’ve only said to Elle. “I get so tired of being afraid.”
“Of me?” I’ve shocked him.
“Of life,” I’m quick to correct him. “Of wondering if I’m enough.”
“And here I was beginning to think you were Super Mom,” he says lightly while reaching for my hand.
“Don’t be so quick to forget my moods, Jonas,” I warn him.
“That’s up for me to decide isn’t it?”
“I’m moody and temperamental.”
He guffaws. “Who told you that garbage?”
Thinking back, I admit, “Well, it was a chef who I’d just fired, but I do recognize my faults.”
“Why don’t you give me your list, and then we’ll compare?” he suggests.
“I’m not loving the idea you’ve known me for such a short time and you already have a list,” I grumble.
“Just start.” His shoulder bumps mine.
“Well, I mentioned I can be moody. I also have a hairpin temper—something you’re already familiar with since you got stuck with me for a month as a result of it.”
“Uh-huh” is his only reply.
“I’m demanding, almost to a fault. I expect certain things from people who are tied to my life,” I reflect.
“Like what?” He shifts a little.
“Respect. Loyalty. Affection? I don’t want my kids growing up believing their lives shouldn’t revolve around those things, that people aren’t capable of those emotions.”
“And you think those are faults?” His voice is so mild, I relax.
“It was, as you witnessed, criminal expecting those emotions from my mother even though I have hope that might be changing. And I guess I learned a similar lesson the hard way when I accepted a man into my life with the same traits. Cinderella doesn’t always leave the kitchen,” I laugh.
“Whether she leaves it or not should be her damn choice.” I rear back at the ferociousness in Jonas’s voice. “What you said is you want is a healthy relationship that won’t harm your children. That’s would be every parent’s wish in a perfect world. Tragically, we don’t live in one of those.”
“It doesn’t sound like you mind my list,” I whisper breathlessly.
Jonas shakes his head. “Life isn’t a fairy tale, Trina. People aren’t perfect, places aren’t either, but you don’t have to have your guard up constantly to protect yourself against both. Something is always going to happen to make you feel just as happy as you do right now. And someone will try to hurt you. That’s life.”
“Well, life sucks,” I grumble automatically, but my mind is turning his words over and over in my head.
“It can,” he agrees. “Or you could find yourself in the middle of being frustrated over having to do something like apologizing and find yourself confronting the most intriguing challenge of your life.”
I suck in so much air, it’s a wonder I don’t uproot the nearby trees.
“Take a chance on this, Trina. Take a chance on me,” he urges, his fingers sliding from my hand to cup my jaw.
As he leans forward to touch his lips to m
ine, it’s equal parts terror and bliss exploding through me. If it was just me alone, I’d worry less about the way his kiss makes my whole body quiver. But as the approach of my shrieking children grab my attention, I jerk away trembling.
“I don’t know how we got so off course. You were telling me there was something missing with your sandwich?” My voice is shaky to my own ears.
“Hmm. Yes. You used creamy peanut butter,” Jonas complains. Pointing to his shirt where a glob of jelly fell, he announces, “I bet chunky would have caught the grape jelly.”
I open my mouth, and what comes out shocks us both. “You’re a weirdough.” Then I slap my hand over my mouth as his lips curve.
The next thing you know, he’s tackling me to the blanket tickling me. “Give me another,” he demands.
“I…can’t. They’re outrageous.” Besides, I’m laughing too hard to think clearly.
Annie and Chris come racing over to see what has me shrieking. “Tickle Mama?” Annie asks curiously.
Chris doesn’t wait. His little hands go straight for my ribs, and I screech again.
“That’s it, buddy. Don’t give her any mercy,” Jonas encourages.
“Okay, Nono,” Chris agrees. Seconds later, he reaches over and tickles his sister, who takes shelter in my arms.
“Mama! Help me!”
Rolling over, I cover my little girl as Chris and Jonas tickle me mercilessly. I manage to gasp out, “This is a salt with a deadly weapon!”
Jonas roars, his whole body shaking. “Okay, buddy.” He carefully plucks Chris’s diabolical fingers away. “Your mom said the magic words.”
Chris looks confused, until he realizes he’s in Jonas’s arms. Settling back, he beams.
Just then, a couple strolls by. “Just think, honey. That could be us in a few more years,” I hear the woman say to her adoring husband.
“It certainly could,” he agrees.
I hope not, I think to myself as I roll off my daughter. I hope your every wish comes true and you aren’t living day to day wondering what happened to your dreams.
Challenged by You: A Fusion Universe Novel Page 18
