“No, because I don’t consider myself a chef. My degree is in computer science, not in culinary arts. If you want the interview, you take what you get. As much fun as it is bickering with you, I have a double order of truffles to make for a client.” And I can’t allow myself to get distracted by you.
“I saw from your bio, you used to be a Mixed Martial Arts fighter. How did you transition from athlete to chocolate?”
Jon died and Niko felt compelled to come home, to be with his family. One chapter of his life was closed and the other led to his other passion, chocolate. Huffing out a breath, he offered a flippant, “I got beat up too much.”
“According to your stats, you were moving up the ranks.” She tilted her head and cocked one knowing brow. Damn, she was sharp.
She would know about his history and use it to her advantage. If he explained why, she’d get the scoop on Chloe and open the interview up to questions he refused to answer. He considered lying outright but opted for a partial truth. “I opened Chocolate Gastronomy. What’s your favorite type of chocolate?” he asked, moving to the table where he’d placed the sheet pan.
“I don’t eat chocolate.” She put on the gloves and joined him. By the stubborn look in her eye, she wanted to continue the line of questioning.
Wasn’t going to happen. “You’re doing a show on chocolate, and you don’t like chocolate?”
“Technically, this show is about desserts, and I never said I didn’t like it. I don’t eat it. I’m not a sweets person.” She glanced away as she said it.
Liar.
He swept his hand over the almost black square of chocolate, glad to gloss over his career. Part of him missed his old life, the thrill of being in the ring, facing an opponent equally as qualified as himself. That was in a past life. The CG was his reality. “The trick to choco—”
“Hold on, Ronan, are you getting this? Do we need to check the lighting? How’s the audio?”
“Good, everything is good, including the conversation,” Ronan said, his eye pressed to the camera.
“This isn’t supposed to be a conversation, but an interview. And darn, my notes are in my phone.” Panic tinged her voice, and Alice made to retrieve her phone from her pocket.
Niko put a staying hand on her arm. She was strung tighter than a guitar string. “Don’t. The number one rule in my kitchen is no cell phones. They’re too much of a distraction. I only have a few hours to make a whole shitload of truffles. You’re an intelligent woman. Why don’t you try improvising instead of controlling everything? You might find you like it.”
“I have to control things; I’m the producer and the director. It’s my job,” she said from between gritted teeth, a defiant tilt to her chin. “And before we begin in earnest, please refrain from cussing. Kids will be watching this. Now, let’s get ready for the scene. Ronan.” Ronan brought out the clapperboard and raised it in front of the camera before he stepped out of the line of vision.
“It’s to sync the sound and video during edits,” she explained.
“Good to know. Now, look at the chocolate.”
“Please present it to the camera. Think of the camera as your audience, not me.” She spoke low, her voice almost a caress.
He angled the block toward the camera until it caught the light, feeling a bit ridiculous talking to an inanimate object. “Well made and properly tempered chocolate has a nice sheen.”
She leaned in close, the heat of her body scorching his arm. The tenseness had left her face, and her features softened. “Tempering. I’ve heard the term, but I’m not familiar with it. Can you explain?”
“It’s a complex process of melting the chocolate and reheating it. If it’s properly done, this is the end result.” He took her hand and glided her fingers across the chocolate. “Chocolate that has “bloomed,” or lost its temper, will feel grainy when you rub it, while tempered chocolate is smooth and satiny—like supple skin.” Your skin under my lips. Niko released her hand before he did something stupid like link his fingers through hers. He picked up the bowl containing the shaved chocolate. Settling it over the boiling pan of water resting on the stove, he used a spatula to work the chocolate. “It has to be stirred or it’ll burn.”
“Do you have to do this every time?” she asked, inspecting the block more closely.
“No, you don’t have to do this every time. If you want to cut corners, you can simply melt your chocolate with a small amount of shortening to thin it. But the resulting candies would have to remain refrigerated or they’ll start to melt when I touch them. Not an ideal situation when it comes to candy and …well, let’s just say I don’t cut corners. When it comes to the things I’m passionate about, whether it’s making chocolate or other…activities, I put one-hundred percent effort into it.” The flush on her cheeks deepened, and he licked his lips, unsure why he insisted on carrying on with this dangerous flirtation. Except he couldn’t seem to help himself. She needed to loosen up a bit, and he wanted to see her smile more. Crazy.
Wrinkling her nose, she flashed an exasperated grin. “Just remember, Casanova, this is a family show. Kids will be watching this, little kids.”
“I’ll try to keep it PG” Although in his mind, things were rapidly progressing to an R rating.
Chapter Eight
Why did he have to be so damned gorgeous? Niko chuckled at her reprimand, and Alice hoped she hadn’t turned as red as she felt. The camera would be unforgiving of any faux pas. Granted, most of her participation would be edited out. The focus needed to be on the contestant, not the interviewer.
“You’ll want to prepare your workstation at the same time, keeping an eye on the stove. It’s best to have everything ready before you begin dipping. We’ll need this bowl of chocolate and our dipping tools, aka, a fork. Can you grab one of those clean baking sheets and line it with the parchment? We’ll place the finished candies on it. Since I’m making truffles, I’ll keep the soft fillings in the refrigerator until I’m ready to use them.”
Alice moved around the kitchen, enjoying the cadence of Niko’s voice and the enthusiasm behind it much more than she should. She’d been upset when he’d flouted her plans for a one-on-one sit-down interview, but she was glad he’d made this into an educational session. He was a natural in front of the camera, down to earth and charming. “I’m done. What’s next?”
“Come over here and close your eyes.”
