She turned to her side to ask Sylin’s opinion, but she had disappeared. Perhaps because two elves in green cloaks had wandered through the front entrance, as if telepathically summoned by the elven chef.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll see her later,” Rylana murmured to herself. “On the roof of the coffee shop, perhaps.”
EPILOGUE
Jildarin hungthe glowing golden whisk in the front window of the diner, its light bathing the street outside and inviting people to come in. He emanated pride as he backed up and studied its placement.
“We will have to hire more staff,” he said. “Once the word of my victory and culinary excellence spreads, we are certain to have an increase in clientele.”
“And they won’t even be here for the soup.” Rylana decided not to point out that he sounded pompous. She didn’t think he was wrong.
“Notonlyfor the soup, at least. You will perform calculations to determine the proper prices for menu items based on our new notoriety.”
“One usually prices based on achieving a certain margin above the expenses of running the establishment and making the dishes,” she said.
“In the culinary world, the reputation of the chefalsomust be factored into the prices.”
“Are you looking to become wealthy?” Rylana didn’t know howlong the diner could expect a boost in business from Jildarin's victory. Would it be lasting? Or would people eventually forget about the competition? His foodwasgood, and she expected that repeat customers would be frequent. Maybe hiring more staffwasa good idea.
“I seek to have enough reserves that I needn’t worry about paying the rent and buying necessary equipment and supplies.Withoutneeding coin from my manipulative family.”
“You don’t want to be coerced into mating for money, huh?”
“Certainly not.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Yes.” Jildarin considered her for a moment, then waved for her to follow him into the hallway. “I have something for you.”
“Like… a gift? Or work?” Rylana envisioned him leading her to the office and her accounting books to record his winnings.
“It is notwork,” Jildarin said with amusement. “It is to show my appreciation for your assistance this past week.”
“I didn’t know dragons knew how to show appreciation,” she said before she could tamp down her natural snark. She didn’t want to offend him, not if he was beginning to see her worth—and that she wasn’t plotting his demise.
“Our kind are capable of being appreciative, but you are correct that we are not a demonstrative people.”
Having mostly seen dragons raking enemies with their claws while breathing fire and biting with their fang-filled maws, Rylana couldn’t imaginehowone of them demonstrated affection. She tried to imagine two dragons snuggled together with their tails entwined but snorted at the unlikelihood. It hadn’t sounded like their mating had anything to do with what humans would consider romance and love.
In the kitchen, Jildarin stepped into the cold room and returned with a covered pan. He removed the lid to reveal a side ofbacon rubbed with a brown powder mixture that smelled sweet and also of…
“Is that coffee?” Rylana lowered her nose for a closer sniff.
“That is the main ingredient in this new rub that I am experimenting with. This slab is still curing, but I’ve another that just came out of the smoker.” Jildarin returned to the cool room, switched pans, and returned with a side of bacon ready for frying. “I thought to reward you for your work here.”
He walked to the stove, placed a pan on the cooktop, then rested the bacon on a butcher block to slice it.
Even though it still had to cook, Rylana's mouth watered. “I would pretend to be offended at the idea of being rewarded with a treat like a loyal hound, but… coffee-rubbed bacon sounds way too amazing to be offended by.”
“Yes. And loyalty should be rewarded inallspecies.” Jildarin looked over his shoulder at her, his eyelids drooping.
If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought he had bedroom thoughts in mind. But he’d made his feelings on sex clear. Besides, he didn’thavea bedroom. They would be storeroom thoughts. Or perhaps lair thoughts. Either way, Jildarin returned to slicing, and she decided she’d been hallucinating by reading anything into his look.
“What will you do now that you’ve won the contest after practicing so long for it?” Since Rylana had only been in town for a week, she didn’t knowhowlong Jildarin had been practicing but trusted he’d diligently trained for months.
“Continue to use my cooking to inform the various peoples of Tranquility that dragons are capable of culinary greatness and that our kind are more than mindless predators as so many believe.” Jildarin laid four strips of sliced bacon in the pan and activated the gnomish ventilation fan. He hadn’t fired up the stove, but the surface had heated regardless, and Rylana leaned forward in anticipation as the sizzling of bacon began.
“I look forward to watching the diner’s success and seeing you get the recognition you deserve for your hard work,” she said.
