Heat 1 (Heat: Master Chefs #1)

HEAT

Master Chef: HEAT Serial

VOL. 1

Kailin Gow

 HEAT (HEAT: Vol 1)

Published by Kailin Gow Books

And theEDGEbooks.com

Copyright © 2014 Kailin Gow

All Rights Reserved. No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
graphic, electronic, or  mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping
or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in
writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical
articles and reviews.

For information, please
contact:

Kailingowbooks(at)aol(dot)com.

First Edition.

Printed in the United States of
America.

To My
Readers, Betas, and Kailin Krusaders, Thank You for All Your Love, Support, and
Encouragement. You are truly one of the most important reasons why I’m blessed
beyond measure.

Prologue

Bobby

T
he music from the nightclub pounded into my
brain and the lights that flashed here and there added to the dizziness. Man, was
this what getting wasted all about? Dizzy, nauseated, monster headache?   Shit. 
I would never drink again.

I suddenly
remembered all those times in high school when a few of the guys had tried to
get me to drink, tried to get me drunk… ‘Come on, Bobby, just one beer.’  ‘Hey,
Bobby, how about a shot of tequila?’

Back in the
States, I was still under the legal drinking age, and man did my mom constantly
remind me of that.

“If you want to
get into a good school, you better fly right, Bobby.”

So I did, until
last night when I arrived in Paris; legal drinking age eighteen, thank you very
much.  I wasted no time getting wasted.  What else is an eighteen year old guy
supposed to do?

But as I tried
to lift my head off the floor, a stinky, sticky floor, I tried to count the
number of drinks I’d had.  I knew I’d started off with a few beers, threw in a
few shots of something sweet and strong, and topped it off with a snifter of
cognac.

While in Paris,
right?

Still, while I
knew it wasn’t a great idea to mix, all in all, I hadn’t really had that much
to drink.  It was just enough to get me partying, get me dancing, and get me
talking some God awful French that I’m sure made no sense.

That didn’t keep
the girls from coming, though.  No sir.  I don’t know if it was my boyish good
looks, my cute American accent or my New York sense of style… oh, or maybe it
was that I’d shown off my abs. I remembered pulling my shirt up a few times,
giving the girls a peek.  And then I simply took my shirt off entirely and
paraded around like some kind of egomaniacal peacock.  Hell, I put enough work
to get my abs so tight and taut, I didn’t see the harm in showing off a bit? 
Anyway these French dames just kept coming.  Older ones, younger ones, hot
ones, hotter ones.  The night had been a veritable smorgasbord of feminine
bodies; boobs, asses and even more boobs.

“
Ah, mais
regardez ce beau derriere
,” one older woman had called out as she’d swatted
my butt.

Women weren’t
really shy about reaching out and grabbing whatever appealed to them.  If they
liked what they saw, they went after it.  It’d been pretty cool at first, but
I’ll admit, it became a little intimidating after a while, like I had some kind
of standard to live up to, or something.

Then again, I
knew I was asking for it when I mentioned that I was Errol King’s kid brother.

“
Le chef
Errol King
?” one amazed young woman had asked.

Yes, hard to  believe,
but the most baddest bad boy chef Errol King had been tamed by my own sister
Taryn. Who would’ve thought the celebrity chef would ever settle down. The man
was tied up and unavailable, while I was free and more than willing to taste a
variety of women.

That was until
my head had started pounding and my stomach had decided to start turning
somersaults.

I pried my face
off the floor and tried to stand, but the entire room started spinning and
everything came at me in sets of two.  I leaned up against the wall as two cute
girls with flashy magenta hair held out two glasses of wine while each smiled
with their two bright red mouths.  For a moment I thought I was going to get my
first taste of twins.  The prospect was both thrilling and daunting.  Two girls
at once.  Was I up for it?

There was really
no point worrying about it.  As it turned out, all I had to do was shake my
head to get rid of the slightly disturbing image and get my eyes to focus on
the one girl in front of me.

“
Vous allez
bien
?” the girl asked.

I shook my
head.  “I’ve been better.”  Then I remembered where I’d seen her before. 
Earlier in the night; she’d insisted I come to this part of town, to this
club.  The only word I’d been able to translate in her argument had been
‘party.’

Yep, I’d wanted
to party and I’d been ready to follow her anywhere. With Taryn and Errol still enjoying
their honeymoon, I was on my own to explore my new home for the next couple of
years while enrolled at the Culinary Institute.

She planted a
big, slobbering kiss on my mouth and if I’d been sober I’m sure I would have enjoyed
it, but as it was, I felt all the more nauseated.

“I need some
air,” I said.  She looked at me with that frown everyone had been giving me
ever since I arrived.  I took in an exaggerated big breath and said, “
De
l’air
.”

“
Ah, oui. 
Absolument.  Venez avec moi
.”  She helped me get my balance as I left the
solidity of the wall, and led me to a door at the back of the club.

The minute the
cool night air slapped my face, I had to lean against the graffiti filled brick
wall and vomit.  By the time I’d spit out the last of it, I turned and she was
gone.

“Great,” I
muttered.  I looked up and down the street hoping to get some sense of where I
was.  Looking up above the rooftops, I tried to find the ever present Eiffel
Tower, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Had I left
Paris?

No.  I couldn’t
have.

Clinging to the
wall, I walked to the corner and looked at the street sign.  Maybe I could call
Taryn and get her to come pick me up.  Crimé and Jomard.  It shouldn’t be too
hard to Taryn to find it, especially if Errol was with her.  I crossed my
fingers hoping she was in town.  Last I’d heard she was still out at Errol’s
country cottage.  I pulled out my phone and tapped the first name on my contact
list.

In Paris, she and
Errol were my only contacts.

But no sooner
had I tapped her name that my screen went black.

“You're kidding
me,” I groaned.  Hadn’t I charged my phone just before leaving the campus?  I
was sure I had.

Well, whether I
had or not was pointless now.  My phone was out.  If I wanted a ride I’d have
to find a landline.

I looked down
the intersecting street.  The main entrance to the club I’d just sneaked out of
was right there.  Maybe I could go back in and get an employee to call a cab
for me.  But after only a step or two, I remembered the inexplicable fear that
had accompanied my initial wave of nausea.

It wasn’t a fear
of being sick, but a fear of being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 
Something wasn’t right about that place; about the people in it.

No.  I had to
leave the club; put as much space between it and myself as I could.  I’d find
another phone.  Surely there was a bistro or café somewhere close by.  For
heaven’s sake, there was a café at every corner.  But as I took a step in the
opposite direction, the street suddenly began to waver, like a huge piece of
black licorice.  My stomach wanted to escape.

As if that
wasn’t bad enough, an ice pick of a headache suddenly blasted me just above my
left eye.

“Shit.”  Holding
my cool palm to my heated forehead, I closed my eyes and stopped walking.  Between
the blinding headache and the licorice like street, I couldn’t take another
step.  The headache remained blinding and intense for fifteen seconds before it
finally subsided. What the fuck had that magenta-haired bitch put in my drink?

I knew I was a
little naïve when it came to alcohol, but I was sure I was feeling the effects
of something other than a few drinks.

Angry with
myself as much as with her, I knew I had to go back to the club.  I wouldn’t
make it far out here on my own and maybe, while I was at it, I would confront
magenta and get her to tell me what she’d put in my drink.

I turned
abruptly and slammed head on into something soft and supple.  It yelped, that
light, sweet sort of yelp that only a French girl could emit, and I opened my
eyes and looked down at the sprawled out figure on the ground.  Two
heart-shaped faces surrounded by a mass of chocolate silk hair looked up at me
with four huge violet eyes…eyes so bright and shiny like an angel…two angels.
Man, I was seeing double again.

“Taryn?” I said,
my vision blurred and seeing strange things. “Oh, my God.  Have I been
poisoned?  Did I die and you're here to take me to heaven?  Oh, shit.  Do I
even make it into heaven?”

She smiled and
only when she struggled to get back on her feet did I realize she’d been
waiting for me to help her up.  I could be such a dunce sometimes.

Nonetheless, she
took my hand and led me down a narrow, dark alleyway.  I should have been on my
guard, should have been a little suspicious, but I wasn’t; not at all.  She stopped
in front of an old rundown building, looked at me and murmured sweet French
words that I just couldn’t make out.

“
Oui
,”
was all I could think to say regardless of what she’d said.

She nodded,
opened the door, led me up the stairs and stopped at door number fifteen. 
After going through her purse which seemed to hold everything from lipstick to
hairspray to mints to some funny looking folded up ballerina slippers, she
finally pulled out a key ring with one solitary key and inserted it in the
lock.

I was fascinated
by her face, so childlike, yet so feminine and mature.  It was impossible to
determine how old she was.  She could be fifteen, but then again, she could be
twenty-two.

“
Voila
,”
she said.

And that voice;
sultry yet innocent, and confident, but with a touch of hesitation.

I looked inside
the apartment.  Where did she bring me and why?  She could be another crazy
assed bitch like magenta girl, or… At this point I figured I had nothing to
lose.  It was either crash at this beautiful girl’s place or sleep off whatever
I’d ingested on the street.

Walking in, I
was struck with the delicate scent of feminine perfume and felt instantly at
ease.  I glanced up at her when she pushed the door to her bedroom open and knew
I was in good hands.

Comforted simply
by the scent of a perfume and angelic eyes?  Well, in my inebriated state, yes. 
And with that thought, I fell flat onto the bed, drifted off and slept like a
rock.

Chapter 1

T
hough my eyes were closed, I was aware of the
bright sun that poured into the room and turned away from the source and
managed to nod off again.  My sleep was invaded with images of that angel.  She
floated into my room, nudged up beside me and warmed me with her body before
getting to her feet to dance in a sweet and seductive way.

Her body swayed
and I knew it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.  Of course she did
have a strange taste in music.  It wasn’t anything raunchy or sexy.  In fact,
it was a silly and childish song.

Was that
patty-cake, or hickory dickory or… knick knack patty wack?  Shit!  My phone!  I
bolted upright and looked at the bedside table where my phone sat blaring the
silly song, but by the time I reached for it, it fell silent.  I frowned at it
for a moment.  Was it mocking me?  The last time I’d desperately needed it, it
was blank and useless.

“Well, well,
well,” Taryn said as she came to the doorway and looked down at me.  “It’s
about time you open those eyes of yours.”

I tried to say
something to her, but my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and all I
managed was a pain-filled groan.

“I knew you were
too young to come out here,” she said.

I glared at her
and turned to put my feet to the floor, but immediately regretted the sudden
move.  My head continued to turn for a few seconds still.

“You do realize
that it’s Tuesday, don’t you?”

My eyes widened
in surprise and I wondered if she wasn’t pulling my leg. I’ve been knocked out
for two days?

“Yes, Tuesday. 
If you didn’t wake up within the next hour I was going to take you to the
hospital.  The only thing that kept me from bringing you there to begin with
was Errol.  He was convinced you’d sleep off whatever it is that you need to
sleep off.”

“Where…?” I
managed to choke out.

She disappeared
into the apartment for a few seconds and returned with a tall glass of water.

Nothing had ever
looked so good.

“You're in
Errol’s new apartment.”  She handed me the glass and sat beside me on the edge
of the bed shaking her head in disgust.

I gulped down
the water and held it out to her in a request for more.  Glaring at me, she
took the glass, and slammed it onto the bedside table.

The slam almost
did me in.  I reached for my aching head.  “Please be careful.  I have a
bitching headache.”

“Serves you
right,” she said, using the same tone Mom always used when we’d done something
she didn’t approve of. “What were you doing in the 19
^th
district?”

“Where?”

“We found you
not far from the
Parc de la Villette
.”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you
mean, you don’t know?”

“Just that.  I
don’t know how I got there.  One minute I’m in this flashy club with bright
lights and beautiful women, and the next minute I’m in this seedy place that
smells of cheap perfume, and cheaper cologne with a hint of urine mixed into
the blend.

“Great.  Welcome
to Paris.”  She crossed her arms over her chest and silently dared me to explain
myself.

“You don’t
understand, Taryn.  This isn’t just some run of the mill hangover.  It’s not
like I went out and drank everything in sight.  Someone put something in my
drink.  I mean I was seeing double… like really double.  And the streets literally
melted under my feet.  And I think I even saw an angel.  Shit, that’s not from
alcohol, is it?”

“So our lost
adventurer has finally awakened.”  The deep, velvety male voice had a smooth
and sexy French accent.

Man, if I could
talk like that, all the ladies would be at my knees.

“Hey, Errol,” I
said.

Errol King had a
reputation for being a rough and tough professor at the International Culinary
Institute in Paris, but I wasn’t intimidated by him.  After seeing him with
Taryn these past weeks, I knew he was all pussycat underneath that rough
exterior.

“You know, you
had your sister going nuts with worry.  You could be waking up in a hospital
bed, young man.”

“You
should
be waking up in a hospital bed,” Taryn said.  “I’m still not convinced bringing
you here was a good idea.  You're probably dehydrated and more.”

“Taryn, I told
you how things work here in France,” Errol said.  “Illicit drugs are not
tolerated… no matter what your story is.”

“Hey, man, I
didn’t take any drugs.  I swear.  Someone slipped something in…”

“I told you.  It
doesn’t matter what your story is.”

“Errol,” Taryn
said.  “Surely they’d understand that he didn’t deliberately take any drugs. 
He’s a naïve young American who got lured by the wrong crowd .”

Errol looked at
his wife, and while there was definitely a lot of love in his gaze, there was
also a bit of reprimand.  “Not only would they not understand, but they would
have called the police.  He could have gotten up to a year in prison.”

If he was trying
to scare me straight, it was working.  I’d never been the kind of guy to take
interest in drugs – my brain was loopy enough as it was – and my night out on
the town brought down by drugs added to my disinterest, but if I needed another
incentive to keep away from the stuff, that certainly was it.

“Well,” Taryn
said as she stood and picked up my empty glass of water.  “It’s useless to talk
about all that now, anyway.  You’re awake, you seem to be feeling better and no
harm was done.  At least I hope so.  I swear, Bobby, if the cops come here
saying you got into some kind of trouble while you were out there
hallucinating, I’m shipping you back to Mom in New York.”

I wanted to tell
her I hadn’t done anything illegal, but, truth was, I wasn’t really sure.  For
all I knew, the cops could very well knock on the door and tell her I’d done
something awful.

“How did you
guys find me?”

“Your angel.”

“Huh?”

“That angel you
were talking about,” Taryn said.  “Really pretty. And smart.  I didn’t think
you’d go for that type.”

“What the hell
do you mean by that?”  Type?  Did I have a type?  I love all women.

“Just very sweet
and… nice.  A really nice girl.”

“I like nice,” I
groaned.

“Anyway, she was
smart enough to find your phone, realize it was out of battery, recharge it,
and called the emergency contact number on there. Which was me.”

“It’s been a
long time since I’ve passed by Canal St. Denis,” Errol said.  “It’s not a part
of town a lot of tourists go to.”

“I’d say, it’s
probably not a part of town tourists
should
go to,” Taryn added.  “I
mean, think of it, Bobby.  Anything could have happened to you.”

“Yeah, we could
have ended up fishing you out of the Canal.”

My head
continued to spin, and their constant harping on how bad things could have
turned out didn’t help any.  I stood and staggered to the window to look
outside.  It was a bright, sunny day and the glare of the sun beamed off the
domed roof of the Basilica in the distance.  A dull, grey day would have suited
me just fine.  I wanted to spend the day in bed, in the dark.

“Didn’t you sell
the apartment in the city?  I thought you guys were living out in the country,”
I finally said as I looked down at the buildings that surrounded Errol’s
apartment.  He had a bird’s eye view over the entire city.

Probably the
penthouse.  Yeah, it was just like him to go for the best, the top, the cream
of the crop.  Man, I envied that guy.

“We were, but
I’ve decided to return to the Institute and finish my studies.”

“And I’ll be
teaching a few classes,” Errol added. “To keep an eye on Taryn. You know how
many boys tried to get her to go out on a date with them back when she was a
student. Well now, she’s my wife, and I will be around as much as I need to in
order to make sure she remembers she’s with Errol King now for better and for
worse.”

Errol shot Taryn
an intense look that spoke caveman, hands-off my woman all over it. Taryn
looked down blushing.  Man, so that was what it was like to feel so passionate about
a woman that you reek like a caveman sending out signals to other cavemen all
over to back off.  This woman was mine.  I wonder if I would ever feel so
strongly passionate about a woman that I would reek of caveman, too.

Great.  So with
Caveman Errol and overprotective, over-alarmed big sister Taryn at the
Institute, my idea of fun was soon turning into something else. I’d have Mother
Theresa on my back watching my every move and her military sergeant of a brother-in-law
to add to the strain.

“After what
happened to you this weekend, I think it’s a good thing that we’ll be so
close,” Taryn said.  “We’ll be able to keep you out of trouble.”

Errol chuckled. 
“At least we’ll try.”

“Seriously?”  I
raked my fingers through my hair.  I’d let it grow out a bit, giving me a bit
of a European feel… kind of like what Errol had going on; that casual,
windswept look that seemed to drive the girls crazy.

“Mom didn’t send
you out here to party, Bobby.”

“I know that,
but all work and no play…”

“Can make Bobby
a very rich and successful man if he plays his cards right.”

I glared at
Errol.

“Do you really
think I got where I am today by getting drunk and falling all over myself?”

“No,” I
muttered.  I shoved my hands into my jean pockets and realized they’d put me into
bed almost fully clothed.  “So what’s the deal?  Am I going to have to stay
here with you guys?”

“Not quite,”
Taryn said.

“Our honeymoon
isn’t quite over yet.”   Errol smirked as he wrapped his arm around her waist
and pulled her in close.  She looked at him in that adoring way she had and I
suddenly felt like an intruder.

“You’ll get to
stay on campus like you’d planned, but…”

I knew there was
going to be a but.

“I will be
keeping a close eye on you, Bobby.  And I have no qualms about snitching.  If
you go on to get yourself into all kinds of trouble, I’ll let Mom know and
she’ll pull you back to New York quicker than you can say
crème brulé
. 
You got me?”

My shoulders
slumped down and I felt like I was ten again.  “Gotcha.”

“I’ll also
remind you,” Errol said, “that the classes you’ve enrolled in are very
demanding and it’s tolerance zero for any fooling around.  One stupid move on
your part and you can easily be kicked out.  You're in Paris to learn, not to
get into trouble.  Understood?”

I grunted and crossed
my arms over my chest as I turned to look at him.  “I would have thought that
you of all people would have understood where I was coming from.  I mean, you
were a young guy once.  You know what it’s like to want to play the field, to
test the waters, to taste variety.  Hell, I even read an article about you that
literally had the headline ‘Notorious Bad Boy Chef, Errol King, on the Prowl
Again.’  And you expect me to play choirboy?  Come on.  There’s nothing wrong
with a guy my age wanting to play the field.  Man, there are women out there.” 
I licked my lips as dozens of ripe, firm breasts paraded in front of my mind’s
eye, each pair more succulent and appealing than the last.  “So many,
beautiful, sexy women who have so much to teach me… and man oh man, I want to
learn.”

“I’ll admit I
was an asshole for a time, and it almost cost me everything.  Not only did I
come close to ruining my career, but I almost lost something even dearer to me;
Taryn.  Believe me, you don’t want to find the woman of your dreams and come to
her with all that baggage, all the mistakes you made.  If you're smart, you’ll
cut that bullshit now.”

Squinting, I
looked out the window again.  “Are you guys through giving me the third
degree?  I think I’d like to go back to bed now.”

“Don’t you think
you at least owe your sister an apology?” Errol said, his tone no longer amused
and indulgent.  “Do you know what it did to her to receive that call in the
middle of the night?  From a stranger?  Do you know how frantic she was when
she jumped out of bed and, without even bothering to get dressed, rushed me out
of here so I could drive her down to
le 19ieme arrondissement
?  Crazy,
that’s what she was.  Crazy with worry for her little smart aleck brother who
thought he could go out into a strange new city, with a foreign language and
manage on his own.”

I bit my lower
lip.  “Sorry, sis.”

Her eyes
glistened with tears as she came to me and squeezed my face with her hand. 
“Don’t mess this up, Bobby.”  She gave me a firm, but loving tap on the cheek. 
“Mom isn’t working her butt off so that you can come here and slack off, and
believe me, Bobby, if Errol doesn’t get on your case about getting into
trouble, I will.”  She gave me another firm tap on this cheek, this time with a
little more vigor.

Feeling a little
down on myself, I shrugged.  “Maybe I just shouldn’t have come to Paris to
begin with.  You're obviously not happy to have me here.”

“I’m thrilled
that you're here, I’m just pissed off by how you're acting.”

“And, if I may
add another reason to walk a straight line, the fact that you're my brother-in-law
means you’ll be held to greater scrutiny.”

“Good to know,”
I said.  Hearing the sarcasm in my voice, I glanced to Taryn to see if she
would hit me again. 

She simply
glared at me and said, “Don’t let me down, Bobby.”

“I won’t.”