How long were they married? Why did they get a divorce? When did one of them file for it? And most importantly,whofiled for divorce?
Amelia said to dig deep but keep it tasteful. Unlike her, my curiosity has only increased with everything that’s happened. I haven’t asked him any questions about his romantic life, but I plan to…and soon.
As for the Simone’s fiasco, I walked into the busy newsroom the next day with a basket of muffins, placed it on the big central table, and smiled at the group who ditched me.
“Does anyone want a muffin?” I yell as everyone in the room rushes toward the massive basket, clearly hungry from the energy they’ve used to finish their work. It’s no secret that nobody has time to go out and get food on Fridays until the work is done. I knew this would grab their attention. Turning my head to the small group around Samantha’s desk, I smirk and raise my tea in a cheers motion. Samantha’s eyes narrow as the others wear shocked expressions, satisfaction coursing through me.
I know Samantha’s type well, and the worst thing I could have done was not give her the reaction she expected. She was anticipating anger, tears, and embarrassment, but I simply brushed it off. Although what she and the others did hurt me, Ididn’t let it show. It doesn’t matter, though, because I’m still the one with the feature they all want.
However, the incident at Simone’s doesn’t end there. I was left so hot and bothered by the situation with Grayson that I almost took someone home over the weekend.
So much for not drinking.
“Time is up!” Grayson yells, and I jump in my chair as everyone sets their things down. It seems as though all his students have finished both tasks they needed to complete.
Now it’s his turn to try everyone’s dish. Grayson gave me a heads-up that grades aren’t based only on taste but also on technique, efficiency, presentation, cleanliness, and safety.
Grayson slowly moves around the room as the aroma of spices from the stew fills the air, and my stomach envies what he’s doing.
Note to self: eat before the next lab.
As Professor Hayes moves from station to station, I watch every student and note their facial expressions. Some are impassive, others with eyes wide open, but most look eager and nervous, seeking their professor’s approval.
Grayson remains silent, observing each student’s dish before tasting it. His face remains neutral, showing no emotion, and, one by one, he offers feedback to each student on taste, presentation, cleanliness, and the technique they used while cooking. Grayson’s comments are constructive, ranging from kind to brutally honest. His tone shifts with the advice, and I once again notice some disappointed faces while others smile slightly.
Then he reaches the final student, Leo.
Although we’ve only spoken once, I can’t help feeling nervous for the guy.
He stands straight and nods to his professor before he eyes the dish. Somehow, he keeps his composure as Grayson studies his dish longer than the others. I can almost see Leo sweating from the three yards between us.
Oh God, even the other students are starting to look at eachother because of how long he’s taking just staring at the damn plate.
Checking my watch, I see that four minutes have passed when hefinallypicks up a fork and eats.
What was that for?He only took a minute with the others.
Nodding, he puts it down, takes a sip from the water glass he’s been carrying to cleanse his palate, then moves on to the dessert.
“Good fricandó,” he simply states, and I see Leo’s body relax slightly. “But your crema catalana needs work. It’s too sweet, and the dessert is meant to be moderately sweet. Are you sure you followed the recipe and research?” Leo’s face shows surprise, and I can tell he’s holding back his reaction.
“Yes, Professor Hayes. I used the exact measurements I was told to.”
Grayson shrugs, and my eyes widen at the smug look on his face when he turns. “I suggest you practice your presentation a bit more this weekend as well.”
Leo slightly parts his lips, his face a little red from what I’m assuming is embarrassment. “Yes, Professor.”
“After cleaning up, you’re all dismissed. Please take the feedback I provided and apply it to next week’s dishes.”
Although everyone cleaned as they were cooking, there are still some dishes left to be washed, and it needs to be done by them. However, I’m curious to see if what Grayson said is true or if I’m just imagining things by thinking he was being petty about Leo asking me out last week.
I’m probably overthinking it. Still, I need to know.
Luckily, I’ve had this exact dessert before when Stevie’s dad visited from Spain and made enough for everyone in the group. He’s also classically trained, and I remember loving it, meaning I also remember what it tastes like.
I jump out of my seat as Grayson heads to talk to one of the students in the back, and I run the nine feet to Leo’s station.
His eyes widen as he wipes the counter. “What are you doing?”
