“I’m not,” Adriana insisted, glancing down at her tablet. “It’s a last-minute addition, they called about it twenty minutes ago. I had made a note to check in, but I assumed since you were creating a seafood menu that it was unlikely to be an issue.”
“What?” I felt every muscle in my body tensing up. “Why the hell hadn’t this been recorded during the booking? Who’s the idiot that booked them?”
Adriana didn’t answer. It was clear that she was planning on letting me vent, and I was going to take that opportunity withboth hands. This was already a particularly busy day, and I was already out of patience.
“What kind of a moron would justforgetto mention an allergy?” I went on, pulling the pan from the stove and shoving it in the direction of an assistant, who gingerly took it from me. “And why would you justassumethat I don’t add red meat to seafood?”
I knew that wasn’t entirely fair. She had just as much of a stressful job as I did, and frankly, she probably didn’t have a lot of time to fix things either. Even so, perfection was the name of the game at The Pacific, and screwing up simply wasn’t an option.
“You realize this isn’t the only meal we’re making in this kitchen?” I snapped, feeling a spiral coming. “Speaking of which, that gazpacho won’t be making itself! Stop staring!”
People jumped back into action, though I noticed the thread of anxious tension between them. Today wasn’t a good day to be in my kitchen.
“Throwing out a perfectly good blue lobster because of this,” I continued, a rant building up in my chest that could rival some of my worst. “I’m surrounded by morons, top to bottom. They just say jump, and I’m supposed to do some kind of magic trick? What do these people expect? What the hell are they thinking? I can’t—”
“Can’t you do a mushroom soy reduction instead of the glaze?” Adriana’s question interrupted me in the middle of losing my mind, and I glared at her.
Then, I realized that actually wasn’t a terrible idea. I wouldn’t need to change the rest of the menu, and it would create an earthy flavor that would do well with everything else. It would be lighter, and would make the dish far less… French. But maybethat was a good thing, given that this was a spa-day menu after all.
“That’s not terrible,” I said, though I quickly added a sigh. “But we don’t have a ton of time to get it done.”
Adriana smiled, putting her tablet on the counter and physically rolling up her sleeves. “Then we better get started, right? I promise I won’t end up throwing thyme everywhere again.”
“Mm, we’ll see,” I answered with a raised eyebrow. “First things first, wash your hands. I don’t want any germs anywhere near my food. Sous chef! Get me another lobster.”
The sous chef handed over what she was doing with the hibiscus pears and rushed off to the pantry, while I watched Adriana closely as she got herself cleaned up. I didn’t entirely trust that she wouldn’t ruin my menu with her ‘help’, but it was worth a shot. Without another pair of hands, I wouldn’t have time to get this done.
Of course, if she did manage to screw it up, I’d be sure to let Landon know that I never wanted her to set foot in my kitchen again.
“Oh, a blue one,” I said when the sous chef appeared with the new lobster. “You’ve managed to get it right the first time. I hope that trend continues.”
“Yes, Chef,” she said obediently. “Should I get it blanched?”
“Do it,” I answered, before Adriana approached me, looking roaring and ready to go. “You’re going to help me with the reduction. I need butter, dark soy sauce, and shiitake mushrooms. Do you know what those are?”
Adriana looked unimpressed. “I do. I’m not a complete idiot.”
“Then get moving.” I clapped my hands a few times to hurry her along, but she kept her pace even as she left for the pantry. She was more defiant than I was used to from people in my kitchen, and for some reason, I found that attractive.
I shook my head at myself. I couldn’t stand around thinking about that kind of thing. I didn’t have time for it. I needed to concentrate on my art, not on a woman.
Especially one that has been getting on my nerves so often recently.
I prepared the counter to get the reduction started, still keeping an eye on everything else that was happening around me. My perfect machine was back on track with most of the day’s meals, and the only rock in my shoe now was this damn lobster.
“Here you go,” Adriana appeared with the ingredients, and to my surprise, she’d chosen the exact right ones. Soon enough, we were working together on getting the reduction ready.
The sous chef managed to be helpful, too, and the lobster was blanched and the shells marinated just in time. Together, we had the whole menu done with minutes to spare, which I had thought impossible when Adriana had dropped the red-meat bomb.
“No time to celebrate,” she said as she rolled down her sleeves and fixed her hair. “We need to get this to the spa.”
“Don’t slack while I’m gone,” I growled to the kitchen at large, before turning to the sous chef. “And you, make sure everything stays on track.”
“Yes, Chef,” she nodded, with more color in her face than she had an hour earlier. It looked like her nerves were settling somewhat, which wasn’t always a good thing. The kitchen was no place to relax.
“Let’s move,” I said to Adriana before she had the chance to give that command. I walked ahead, with her following. She had to know who the boss was when it came to the food in this place. I wasn’t entirely sure why I needed to prove my dominance to her, but that didn’t matter. I was going to do it anyway.
But when we reached the spa, where the group was lounging around in towels and robes, Adriana was the first to speak. I allowed her to do that, given that my people skills were somewhat lacking.
