“Ineed you on sides,” he argued.
“I’mbetter with protein.”
Halfhis mouth kicked up on one side in a taunting smile. “You’re leveraging withthe favor I’m going to do for you?”
Thedemon inside me nudged my body forward, brushing it against his. “I’m going tolet you clean the sous vide machine and in return I’m going to let you put meon protein, yes. Win-win.”
Heshook his head back and forth slowly and let go of my wrist. “That’s the secondtime you’ve said that tonight. I think our definitions of winning aredifferent.”
Itook three steps back and grabbed the counter with both hands, the sharpunder-edge of it cutting into my palms, curbing the instinct to grasp hist-shirt with two fists instead. “Thanks, Wyatt. You’re the best.”
“Ihaven’t agreed to anything, Kaya!”
Grabbingmy chef coat, I headed to the kitchen staff cubbies to retrieve my purse. BeforeI made my escape from the kitchen, I turned to face him and winked. “I think weboth know you did.”
Ididn’t wait around for his response, but I thought about the half smile he waswearing as I hurried across the dark parking lot to my pride and joy. I drove a1988 Toyota Land Cruiser. She was vintage and sassy and unexpectedly cool. Shealso wasn’t in the best condition. I mean, she was thirty years old. Older thanme. But her engine was solid and what she lacked in air conditioning, shecranked out in super lukewarm heat during the cold months.
Thenight air revived my senses during my quick jaunt to my SUV and gave my brainrenewed energy. That was when I realized how ridiculous I had behaved. My bodythought Wyatt was flirting with me, but my mind had finally realized that thiswas Wyatt, and Wyatt didn’t flirt with anyone, let alone with little old me—hisarch nemesis. Exhaustion and the chemicals from the deep clean had momentarilyerased my ability to think clearly.
Thefresh air renewed my semblance of sanity. Rational and realistic once again.Wyatt wasn’t flirting with me. And he wasn’t sexy, even when he was sleeping athis desk. And I didn’t enjoy it the few times we’d accidentally touched eachother tonight.
Obviously.
That’swhy I had stopped thinking about him and my skin had stopped buzzing from whereI’d felt him.
Or Ihad done the opposite of those things. Argh!
Idropped my forehead against the faded steering wheel and laughed at myself.This was out of control. What was wrong with me?
Igrabbed my phone from the depths of my purse and ignored the billionnotifications from a solid day of ignoring it. I hadn’t checked it since beforeI got to Lilou. Now it was pushing two in the morning and I had a lifetime ofsocial media to catch up on. Only it wasn’t going to happen tonight. Andtomorrow I was due back at work at the same time… Maybe I could finally sitdown and re-engage with society this weekend. Or maybe not.
Dillonhad texted me hours ago. I had intended to open her message and accept herwell-deserved gratitude for cleaning her station. My next planned move was todemand that she find me a date to make us even and to make me sane again.Clearly, I needed to interact with the outside world. My workaholic propensitywas driving me insane and if I didn’t do something about my libido I was likelyto throw myself at the newest dishwasher. The actual machine, not Endo’sseventeen-year-old nephew. I was desperate, not a criminal.
Buther text totally derailed me, and I forgot about my weird night with Wyatt andmy worrisome social calendar altogether.
Dillon: Ezra said his head chefat Sarita quit tonight. YOU SHOULD GO FOR IT!
What? What-what-what?!?
Call me tomorrow,I demanded, knowing she was inbed by now.I want to know every singlething.
Saritawas one of the four restaurants Ezra owned. All of them featured premier city diningand reputations of excellence. But recently, Ezra had struggled to find loyalchefs to head them. It wasn’t a total anomaly for our industry. Ego went a longway in this business and it was hard to find a chef that could back-up hisclaim to fame. And on the other side of the coin, Ezra was notoriously hard towork with.
BeforeKillian left Lilou, Bianca lost her executive chef over creative differenceswith Ezra. Lilou had always been the shining jewel out of the four restaurants.Even with Wyatt, who had never been EC before, she still managed to maintainher top spot. But now that Sarita was without a chef, Ezra had to be freakingout.
Theconstant turnover was a testament to how persnickety Ezra could be as amanager. This was not a secret. Even Killian had struggled working for him, andthey were best friends.
Ezrawas opinionated, stubborn, and emotionally invested in every aspect of hisrestaurants.
I’d enjoyedwatching Wyatt struggle for the past few months. It was fun for me. Not so funfor him. Ezra and Wyatt argued about everything. I’d walked in on them severaltimes having explosive menu disputes.
Thesame had been true when Killian worked at Lilou too, but the difference wasWyatt managed to be more stubborn. Or maybe Ezra was tired of fighting the samebattles. Regardless, Wyatt had actually been winning lately and I had beenexcited for the small changes he’d managed to make to the archaic menu.
ButDillon’s text changed everything. Bianca was still without a head chef, leavingEzra extra vulnerable now that he had to deal with Sarita too. That, in turn,made him prone to make decisions he might not ordinarily make.
Islumped in the driver’s seat and clutched my phone with two fists. A mixture offear, courage, hope, and despair churned inside me. I wanted to believe I wasgood enough for this, that I could handle a kitchen of my own. This was what Ihad been working for since before I graduated high school. This was what Iwanted more than anything.
CouldI run my own kitchen? Could I convince Ezra I could handle it?
