“I can come up with a menu in advance if you think that will help. What are his favorite foods?”
Kellen lists off a few items, and some surprise me—chicken-fried steak, enchiladas, even sushi.
“Before you, I got him a lot of takeout,” Kellen admits. “Almost every night.”
I consider this. What could I make at home, from scratch, that would tickle Mr. Edgewood’s tastes? What would be worth him coming down from his rooms to experience?
I think I know just the thing.
“How long has it been since he went to a restaurant?” I ask.
“More than a decade.”
A lot has changed in the business since then, especially in regard to presentation.
“Then let’s aim to provide a restaurant experience.” I grab a notebook out of the drawer and start jotting down ingredients. “I could do a three-course meal. Something interactive.” Already I’m coming up with ideas for how to construct a dessert with a chocolate dome that he could pour warm cream sauce over, causing it to melt and expose the cake inside.
Kellen watches me with interest as I put together the list of what I’ll need, but his mouth steadily forms into a frown.
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up,” he says cautiously. “No matter what you dream up, Mr. Edgewood will probably decline your invitation. He has been very adamant that?—”
“I know, I know. But you said you’d try to help, right?” I clench the notebook, excited about what kinds of culinary wonders I could show him.
“I did.” Kellen sighs, then glances over the list once more. “If he agrees to this, you ought to come to the store with me. Then you can pick out exactly the right size of… silicone molds?”
“For the chocolate shell and the savory flan.” Custards can be tricky, but I like the idea of a challenge. I’ll have to practice a few times to make sure I can get it right.
Kellen nods. “All right. If I can convince Mr. Edgewood, we’ll go shopping tomorrow.”
I don’t even notice when he leaves because I’m too enthralled in coming up with my menu. It’s been ages since Iused any of the techniques I learned at the restaurant, so I hope I don’t screw it up.
That night, I put on my new pajamas and slide into bed with my book. I feel like perhaps I could belong here someday. I’m not worried about Andy rolling over in the night to put his cock in me. In fact, I don’t worry about anything as I slip off into sleep, the book lying on my chest.
rupert
Most unexpectedly, Kellen comes to my door that night and knocks.
“Mr. Edgewood,” he calls through it. “I have a proposal from Ms. Austin.”
A proposal? What sort of proposal?
Though Kellen knows what I look like, I still hesitate to open the door for him. It won’t shock him, not after all this time, and yet it fills my gut with panic to imagine anyone seeing me.
I make sure my clothes are all in order before I answer. Kellen steps inside, and I hastily shut the door behind him.
“What is this proposal?” I ask before he’s even taken a seat. The fire is gently burning in the hearth, casting his silver hair and gray suit in an orange glow.
“Ms. Austin would very, very much like to meet you.” Kellen raises his eyes to mine, and it’s clear that he knows what a monumental request this is.
“No,” I say, without thought.
“She’s planning a big dinner,” he continues, as if I haven’t spoken. “A three-course meal, she says. We will be goingshopping tomorrow for what she needs. All sorts of odd things on the list.”
“Odd things?” I can’t help my curiosity peeking out. “What’s on it?”
“Silicone molds, tapioca emulsifier…” He searches his memory. “Strange radishes I’ve never heard of. Fennel. A whole list of spices. Some sort of device for creating wood smoke?”
I am intrigued by that. What could she be planning?
