Sizzling in Singapore (A Carnal Cuisine Novel) (4 page)

"
Okay then, we used each other. But you're the one who was deceitful."

"
I said I was sorry. As you won't let me make it up to you in the manner I would very much like to, what
mea culpa
would satisfy you?"

"
None. I mean, nothing. I mean I accept your apology. Let's just move along from it, okay?

When you
're ready, I'll introduce you around." Mae covered her confusion with an all-business-now attitude. She made a quick exit with a forced tight-lipped smile that looked more like a grimace. She was determined to put up a mature front even if she was suffering a combination of anger at his deception and embarrassment that she was now going to have to work beside Nick for the foreseeable future.
If I can't look at him without remembering last night, he certainly won't be forgetting either. This is what happens when I step out of my comfort zone! Now I've got a boss who thinks I'm a complete slut. And there's nobody to blame but myself. Damn, damn, damn!

***

Nick spent the rest of the day sequestered in the office. Not only was he physically slammed from the jet lag, he was also licking the wounds to his male pride. No matter how much a man fancies himself a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy, it stings when the shoe is on the other foot. Nick was surprised that it hurt just a tad when Mae dismissed their passion so casually. Obviously, she was simply the kind of woman who used men for sex when she felt like it and could walk away
. Figures, she's got to have brass balls to do her job so it follows that she'd have a guy's attitude toward getting some. Point made, Chef Mae.

It irritated him, but he had to admit to himself that somehow he felt a real sting by her rejection of any further intimacy. It seemed more than obvious that Chef Mae could put their tryst in the pool in the 'meaningless event
file' in her world. Nick wondered why she had such an effect on him. He'd had casual encounters with beautiful women before. And she wasn't even that beautiful. Her nose was a tad too long, her lips a tad too full. Her body was perfect, if you liked the tiny type.
Yes
, he told himself,
I've had more beautiful women. Was it her passion? Her abandon? Why does she keep intruding on my mind?
Try as he might, Nick could not dismiss the chemistry between them easily. And, now that he knew her position in the kitchen, he also had to admit to himself that he was intrigued.

Nick himself had held the
chef de cuisine
title at the San Francisco Elysium before he stepped into the exec position. Truth be told, he thought being the exec was a softer job. The main reason he was retiring from hotel cheffing was the fact that he had worked himself up to the top and didn't like it much. He missed being a part of the action. Missed having the hands-on day-to-day contact with the food, the people, the purveyors--everything.

He watched from the office and found himself envying Mae her job. The entire floor was hers. She had the authority (and the skill it seemed) to step into any station, correct any person or dish, orchestrate the entire ebb and flow of the kitchen. She was the conductor without whom the rhythm of the place would fall into chaos and discord. He fondly remembered the demands of that position and respected anyone who could pull it off, including himself. Frankly, he had more pride in being second in command than he had in being the exalted head honcho.

He willed himself to concentrate on Uncle Kurt's menus. There were some really brilliant twists and turns on standard, classic favorites. Uncle Kurt knew his way around food, that's for sure. Runs in the family, I suppose, Nick mused. His father's youngest sibling by many, many years, Kurt was more like a brother to Nick than an uncle. Both had learned the culinary trade at Nick's father's knee. Both had also inherited the Gander tendency to go off on wild adventures--the restless spirit that had impelled Nick to make the decision to leave a very cushy job at the San Francisco Elysium and strike out on his own. His father's death the year before had left him bereft and everything in the big hotel kitchen reminded him of that it was his father's legacy that put him there. It seemed the right time to finally go out on his own and open his own little shop. Generations of Ganders had wandered the globe going from one classic old-school hotel kitchen to the next. Nick wanted to be the first to break the mold and go it alone as a chef-owner. He intended to bring his classical training and his world travels together in a rustically elegant bistro. Kurt threw a monkey wrench into his plans when he took off.

Not that he blamed Kurt for splitting. When Bernadette surfaced in Panama, he had to go find her and at least try to make sense of the relationship that had consumed him for so many years. That memory had tormented Kurt for too many years. No one knew the whole story in the Elysium kitchen and no one would hear it from Nick. Carrying his mother's surname in the Spanish tradition would ensure that there'd be no reason for any of the staff to put two and two together and connect Nick with Kurt. Nick could see the family resemblance, but with his mother's dark hair, he really didn't look like he was related to his tow-headed uncle.

Wish you'd given me the head's up on the little hottie you had as second in command, Uncle Kurt. I could have avoided what promises to be a very uncomfortable situation. Nick brushed off the thought of Mae.
If she can do it, so can you, Nicky-boy
.

***

Mae was happy that Nick gave her ample opportunity to avoid him during the dinner service. He stayed mostly in the office while the rush was on. From there he could observe the busy rhythm of the kitchen and assess the team. It made sense that he wanted to spend a little time getting a feel for how they all worked together. But as Mae moved in and out of stations tasting here, correcting a plate there, occasionally pitching in to expedite a large table, she thought she felt Nick's observant hazel eyes follow her every move. She could not kick the feeling of being electrically charged by his proximity and it disturbed her usual composure. All throughout service she was having a raging argument with herself, chiding herself for not being able to treat last night's incident more casually. She was determined to hold her head high and let him know that she would conduct herself in the most professional way, in spite of being anything but the night before.

When the dinner rush slowed, Nick made his way out of the office and scanned the kitchen. She knew he probably wanted the promised introductions to the staff before everyone started cleaning their stations and shutting down. Mae saw him emerge and stand on the little staircase for a moment. His tall frame wore the impeccable white coat beautifully and the bandana around his head made the classic attire somehow sexier than it might have been. He looked like a pirate chef. She felt her knees weaken at the sight of him in spite of her resolve. She drew herself up as straight as she could manage as he approached her. As he got closer to her, she could feel the current oscillating between their bodies and wondered if he felt it too.

"Chef Mae, would you be so kind as to introduce me to the staff now?" Nick asked stiffly.

"I'd be happy to, Chef Nick." She clapped her hands a couple of times. Everyone who wasn't still actively cooking fell silent and turned their total attention on her. "I'd like to introduce you to Nick Seville who will be temporarily taking on the executive role here at the Elysium. I know you will all give him your full cooperation and support as we work through this confusing and difficult time."

All eyes now on him, Nick flashed his signature grin and Mae tried not to look. "I've been running the Elysium kitchen in San Francisco for many years, so I hope that experience will serve me well here. I think that with the team I've been observing tonight, we can weather this period without too much ill effect." He continued, "I hope I'll be able to add at least a little something of my own in the brief time I'll be in charge here."

Mae began her introductions with the line cooks and the expeditor working her way down the chain of command all the way to the dishwashers.

Nick shook hands with each and every worker in the kitchen and had something unique to say to each of them. It was annoyingly obvious that the staff took an instant shine to him. He had none of the typical 'attitude' of superiority that so many highly regarded chefs bring with them to the kitchen. Mae was looking for something to dislike in his demeanor, but found nothing. Normally she scorned the military precision that turned a chef into a commander and usually an asshole. But after the 'pantry girl' crack, his humility struck her as less than genuine.

"Can we meet first thing in the morning to discuss a few specials I've come up with? I understand from Claude that you haven't had the time to run any this past week."

"Yes, Chef Nick," Mae bristled, "I haven't had time because I was doing
two
jobs."

"I didn't mean to imply..."

She cut him off. "I normally get into the kitchen around nine. Breakfast service runs well without me. Would nine suit you?" She intended to sound brusk and give him no real option--it wasn't a question, it was more of an order.

"Nine is fine, Chef Mae."

***

Mae was never so grateful to get back to her quarters as she was that night.
That was the longest damn day of my life,
she thought. Exhausted, she shed her clothes and made straight for the shower. Experience had taught her that even though it seemed as if she could fall into bed and sleep, she needed a 'wind-down' time before sleep would come. Today especially, when her mind was reeling with thoughts of Nick in the kitchen and Nick in the pool, she had to let the water do its magic and calm her shattered nerves.

She stood under the hot stream and closed her eyes. She dialed the shower head to pulsating massage and gratefully directed it at the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades. She was tight as a drum. Try as she would to ignore it, there was also a delicious ache between her legs where sex had bruised her ever so slightly. The way they had ground themselves into each other, Mae wasn't surprised to be sore. Even the insides of her thighs felt like she had been exercising them--and she had--spreading her legs as far as she could make them go.

Revisiting the passion made her clit start to twitch and she aimed the pulsing water there for a guaranteed quick release. She got off with lightening speed most of the time when she used the shower wand. She found it better than a vibrator as she could really control the pressure and the warmth of the water added a nice glow. Tonight, though, she was fighting herself. Unwilling to fantasize with Nick as her fuck partner had Mae engaged in the ultimately futile attempt to block out all faces and just imagine a disembodied cock. It wasn't working. Nick's face, Nick's chest, Nick's mouth, Nick's voice--all kept intruding--until she had no choice but to accept that he, and he alone, was going to be the author of her sweet orgasm tonight.

She surrendered and her mind's eye watched him bury his mouth in her pussy and suck her clit until it spasmed. Bingo. Orgasm number one.

She played her mind-movie as she rode him hard, impaling her hole with his rod and felt the fire of male desire singe her. Bingo. Orgasm number two.

She let the action heat up as she pictured the head of his cock sliding up and down the crack of her ass teasing her puckered hole as he pumped his hot spunk out onto her cheeks. Bingo. Orgasm number three.

Spent, she could take this very effective fantasy no further. She felt unsettled and embarrassed at the flight of her imagination. That her mind wandered so willingly where she desperately wished it wouldn't spoke to some primal flaw in her psyche. She wrapped her robe around her and fell across her bed face down. She wanted to cry, but tears only teased her tired eyes and refused to fall.

Fitful sleep finally came to her around midnight. She tossed and turned and woke a dozen times anxious and uneasy from unremembered dreams she was sure starred Nick Seville. At six she could fight it no longer and resigned to face her day with as much stoicism as she could muster. She plaited her coffee-colored hair into a thick braid that she twisted into a chignon at the base of her neck and observed her reflection in the mirror. Her brilliant blue eyes didn't seem as tired as she felt. Her pale skin was as creamy and smooth as it had ever been. Satisfied that she did not, in fact, have "I'm lusting after the boss" tattooed on her forehead, Mae donned her chef's jacket. Her hands did shake ever so slightly as she pushed the black studs through the double-breasted coat, but she steadied herself by the time she'd put them all in.

The kitchen was humming when she reached it. She grabbed a cup of coffee and one of the Elys's excellent Danish and slipped into her little corner that served as a quasi-office space. Here she could check the minimal paperwork she was normally responsible for and spend precious minutes planning out the day's tasks. Breakfast service was hectic but rarely held any crisis or surprise. Guests in the dining room ate from the buffet which had an omelet station and a waffle station. Room service was the biggest demand at the breakfast service, but the cooks easily handled the rush.

An hour until the meeting. I can do this. I
'll focus on how grateful I am that Nick's here to take back the god-awful duties that were dropped in my lap
. Mae tried to rationalize her way into a positive attitude. The deception still stung, but it was really not the worst thing the man could have done. Restaurant kitchens are notorious for sexual liaisons of all stripes. The atmosphere of food and fire just lends itself to thoughts of a sensual nature. Usually it was a chef doing a waitress, but other combinations were certainly not unheard of. Amongst her staff the affairs tended to be the high drama variety what with the abundance of gay Filipinos employed by the Elysium. Years back, Mae herself had had a wonderfully torrid little fling with a wine purveyor who was a relentless flirt.
Great sex and the bennies were even better. I didn't drink a bottle of cheap wine for months! Too bad he turned out to be an utter turd. Too bad I allowed him to get too close.