Mirepoix (A Recipe Of Love Book 1) (18 page)

I snuck in a quick nap with Frankie before coming to work, and it’s not like I haven’t handled a kitchen while courting exhaustion in the past. I think every chef has at one point or another, our hours are brutal at best
without adding in all the other stuff I’ve been doing. Today probably wouldn’t have been so bad except my pastry chef Caro fell down the subway stairs on some ice and broke her leg so she will be out for a while until she’s able to handle standing. Kitchen workers will work through almost any injury unless it impacts us being on our feet for hours.  The guy we moved over from the line is doing a decent job but it means now we’re down a line cook and didn’t have time to get someone else to help out. 

No one likes when a kitchen is in the weeds. Not the chef, not the waitstaff who has to apologize to the customers, definitely not any of the other kitchen personnel who have to deal with a chef who’s two steps away from throwing a plate because it’s not fucking spotless and ready. For now I just shove the plate out of the way and grab another after making sure it’s clean, so I can plate this pasta before it gets overcooked and gummy. I shove the finished plate on the shelf for pickup by the wait staff before looking at the next order on the screen mounted right about it.

A flash of blue catches my eye as I turn and watch Frankie stop by the swinging kitchen door talking to the shy little waitress I recently hired. I think her name’s Ash or Willow or something, it’s some type of tree. The look on the waitresses face as she talks to Frankie makes me think the girl obviously has good taste. I chuckle thinking about how Mario spent an hour last week rhapsodizing over her, he’ll be real sad if I’m right and she bats for the other team. Willow looks in the kitchen at me and raises an eyebrow tilting her head questioningly towards Frankie so I wave for her to come in.

“Hey babe, I’m always glad to see you but we’re a bit crazy right now. What do you need?” I ask as I start grabbing what I need out of the cold storage for the next order. I curse when I realize I’m almost out of sliced mushrooms. I really don’t have time to stop and cut more but with being down a line cook I don’t have much of a choice unless I want to take someone else off their work to do something I can have done in minutes. The problem is I don’t have minutes to spare.

“Lindsay and I didn’t feel like cooking so I thought we would stop in and have dinner here. I can see you’re straight past crazy and about to barrel into a cluster fuck. Give me a second to get Lindsay dealt with and I’ll be back to help. Would you have any objection to her helping out the front staff? I know she doesn’t seem like it but she’s really good with other people’s customers, it’s only her own she doesn’t mind offending.” She starts to turn around and head back through the swinging door before I can even answer her, but at this point I’m getting desperate and any help is appreciated. I’ve seen Frankie cook enough to know she knows what she is doing, and she explained how she grew up in her Gram and Pap’s place so I know she knows how a busy kitchen works. I just hope that Lindsay won’t cause any issues.

I immediately get back to cooking and it takes me a few minutes to realize Frankie didn’t let me know she came back. I look up while still cooking and glance around, it takes me a moment to recognize her in the over sized boxy black chef’s coat she apparently stole out of my office to protect her clothes and her hair covered by a black bandana. I glance down and make sure it is one of my coats and permit myself a brief internal fist pump at seeing Chef Moretti on her. I had already made up my mind that I need to get her a ring but my happiness at thinking of her with my last name seals it. I’ll have to ask Lindsay to help me find a ring that will work for her later. I’m so distracted I manage to burn my wrist on the handle of the skillet I’m cooking with. Oh well, it’s not the first burn I’ve had and won’t be the last, at least this time I had a good reason.

I focus back on the food again until I’m plating and look to see Frankie expertly julienning carrots for the cold box, I realize she has diced and chopped and sliced everything we needed refilled in the time it took me to make one dish. I feel a warm glow of pride at my woman’s kitchen skills. It’s probably sick to be turned on by how well she handles a knife but chefs are weird and she looks smoking hot. I figure she definitely will be a help and rush to get through the massive amount of orders we have.

Finally, after an hour of constant activity I have a moment to take a deep breath and look around for her again. I find her at the grill this time expertly cleaning it down with a wire brush while it’s empty. That makes me take a closer look around the kitchen and instead of the normal mess resulting from a rush like that everything is clean and organized. I know without even asking that Frankie probably flowed around the kitchen like water, cleaning and organizing helping anyone who needed it. The boys in the kitchen are gazing at her like wings will sprout and a halo appear any moment.

Mario walks up to me and leans on the counter in front of us with a dopey grin on his face.

“Can we keep her Joe? She didn’t even need to ask any of us what we needed she just knew and made it happen and then whisked the dirty pans away before the bins were full. Because she was hauling the pan bins, the dishwashers didn’t need to leave the sink and dishwasher. She even brought the clean plates over to make sure we didn’t run out, I didn’t see her wince over how hot they were once. Plus she’s prettier to look at than you.” He smirks at me before gazing at Frankie adoringly.

“Keep it up Mario and I won’t defend you the next time Caro threatens you.” I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel absently watching Frankie continuing her cleaning. I tossed it absently into the dirty bin that will be washed by a service over night. Frankie finally stopped moving and looked around with a critical eye seeing if there was anyone else she needed to do, I could practically see her going through a checklist in her head. Her Gram and Pap’s place must have been a  tight ship if her behavior is anything to go by.

I walk up to her and she turns to face me and I’m struck by how gorgeous she looks. She’s a hot sweaty mess with her face glowing from the heat of the kitchen and it takes every bit of internal strength I have not to pick her up and sit her on the prep table so I can taste the saltiness of her skin. I settle for getting close enough she has to tilt her head the whole way back to meet my eyes and grab the lapels of my coat she’s wearing to hold her in place while I kiss her senseless. From the first brush of her lips against mine everything else fades away, her lips open for me and my tongue delves deep tangling with hers. I feel her hands grab hold of my hips and I growl knowing she’s as affected as I am. I break our kiss to rest my forehead against hers and try to catch my breath.

“I don’t think I told you it was okay to steal my coat Pixie, until we get married you can’t just go around claiming to be Chef Moretti. I think you should give it back.” I watch her pupils dilate and her nervously lick her lips at my words. I think she caught my unintentional slip with the word until.

“I think OSHA would have an issue with me back here in just my bra or I would.” She says flirtatiously as she toys with the top button on the coat. I must have been a saint in a past life in order to deserve this woman. I growl and grab her tight for another kiss, this time lifting her up to her toes.

“Go change back into your shirt and I’ll start your dinner. Is Lindsay still here or did she leave?” I ask running my hand down her arm and linking our hands. I never get used to how soft and tiny her hands feel in my big scarred up tattooed mitts. I walk her around the prep table and to down the hall to my office.

“Last I saw she was bussing dishes so she should still be here. Do I get to pick what I’m going to eat or are you going to surprise me?” She starts swinging our linked hands as we’re walking. Something that simple let’s me know she’s happy right now and just teasing me. I wonder if she realizes she managed to be around a bunch of strangers in a stressful situation and seems to be completely at ease. I’m not about to jinx myself and call attention to it in case it makes her self conscious.

“You’ll eat what I cook you and like it.” I tease as open the door to my office and give her a quick swat to the ass. She looks back at me and sticks her tongue out as she closes the door in my face. I turn and head for the front of the restaurant and see Lindsay sitting at the bar drinking a glass of wine and observing the waitstaff.

“Thanks for helping out Lindsay. Can I pay you in chicken carbonara?” I lean against the bar next to her. She slides her eyes to the side and nods before looking around the dining room one more time.

“You’re also providing a bottle of wine. You owe me.” I watch her eye my staff critically and I want to pick her brain for insights. She is brilliant and her mind goes through strategical decisions faster than I can keep up with. She would be truly terrifying if she ever organized an army of devoted followers, I honestly think she could take over the world if she put her mind to it.

“Pick whatever you want and I’ll go cook dinner for us. Grab an empty table and I’ll let one of the waitresses know to bring out some salad and bread.” I stand up and go to walk away.

“Willow please. She’s the best you have on the floor right now.” I nod knowing I was right, and she was analyzing my staff. I’ll definitely be picking her mind over dinner to see if she has any idea what I might have missed. I have a front manager but I’m still the owner and have no problem letting her know any changes that need to be made.

By the time I come out with three bowls of chicken carbonara I see Willow clearing the girls salad bowls and asking if they need anything else. She turns and sees me carrying 3 bowls and hurriedly grabs them off of me and placing them on the table before picking up the empty salad bowls again and scurrying off. I chuckle softly at her actions and how she sometimes forgets to be afraid of me, I doubt she even thought about the fact that she was treating me like I was too clumsy to handle three bowls at once. I slide in beside Frankie letting out a heartfelt groan, thankful to be off my feet for a few minutes.

The girls must have been ravenous because they immediately dug into the pasta, eating almost half their servings before they paused. I can’t say much as I was almost done with mine but at least I look like I can eat like this. There’s just something hysterical about watching two tiny chicks eat so much so fast. Lindsay pauses in her eating and points her fork at me.

“You have a problem. Her name is Staci and you need to fire her. The girl you currently have as hostess bump back down as she’s lazy and thinks she’s too good to help the waitresses now. I would move Willow to her position since she already does everyone else’s unfinished work, this way she will at least get the extra pay to make up for not getting the tips she’s earning.” She calmly states like she’s giving me a weather report. I didn’t even have to dig for the information, that’s one of the best things about this girl, if she likes you she doesn’t think twice about telling you how to be more successful.

I pause and look around before I find Willow refilling drinks for tables not in her section. When she passes by and sees an empty dish, she grabs it and puts it in the wash bin herself, instead of waiting for one of the bus boys or the waitress whose table it was to do it. I look to the front and see the hostess sitting at the counter clearly playing with her cell phone under the counter. I keep looking to see if I can figure out whose section Willow is taking care of. I finish my food and go find the front manager, I casually check the time on my watch knowing that the waitresses only get fifteen minute breaks.

I talk with her about everything that Lindsay recommended, and she agrees to handle it, she also confirms it’s Staci’s section that Willow is handling as well as her own. I go over anything else we need to discuss waiting for her to return. We run out of stuff that needs addressed before she comes back well over fifteen minutes later, so I return to the table with the girls, who have since finished eating. I see that all of our dishes are cleared and the girls are digging into their dessert and there’s even one waiting on the table for me.

“We didn’t know what to order you but Willow said she saw you eying a piece of the Italian wedding cake earlier before it came out so we thought you would like it.” Frankie informs me between bites of her tiramisu. I’m impressed with Willow for remembering it since it happened early on in the dinner shift when things started going downhill. I was regretting not grabbing a piece before then since it normally is gone by the end of the night which tells me she likely hid a piece for me just in case. That’s the type of observation skills that the best waitresses use.

I play with the ends of Frankie’s hair while I eat my cake one handed discussing my mom and the recipes she’s trading with Frankie while I watch for Staci to return. Ten minutes later she emerges from the kitchen looking like she doesn’t have a care in the world. We all watch as the front manager takes her back in the kitchen where I know she’s firing her. I figured it would be easier this way, so I didn’t have to be accused of firing her for being mean to my girlfriend. It doesn’t seem to matter though as she stomps back through the dining room shooting dirty looks at us before slamming out the front door.

I brush it aside and enjoy finishing my cake before I make sure the kitchen is in order. After checking everything over we all leave and head home, which reminds me I need to convince Frankie to let me move in soon.

22

Im laying on the couch with my head in Joe’s lap, examining my toe nails trying to pick what color to paint them this week when I hear noise in my office.