Fire In the Kitchen Read online

  Cassidy indicated a customer approaching the counter. Amy went to serve him, leaving Cassidy alone with her latest cooking experiment. After she measured butter and flour, she selected her fruit. She rolled a lemon and lime in each hand over the bench, inhaling their aroma. The day passed quickly as she experimented with the recipe in between cooking the day’s orders.

  Amy came into the kitchen, taking a rest from the late-morning rush. “Where were we? Let’s talk about that competition.”

  “Not now. It’s my third attempt, but I think I’ve finally got it. Some of the measuring was off.” Cassidy took another look at the recipe and then put it down her bra to prevent Amy from discussing what was on the other side of the piece of paper. “Grab me six eggs please.”

  “Only if you let me crack them over your head.” Amy plunged her hand down Cassidy’s top and removed the piece of paper. “Have you read the other side of this?” She waved it in Cassidy’s face.

  “Of course I have. It’s a TV cooking competition for chefs to compete against each other. They’ve been advertising it every five minutes. Looks good, can’t wait to watch it.”

  “The cutoff for auditions is noon today,” Amy said slowly.

  “So?”

  “So I think you should go for it,” Amy replied as she handed her the egg carton.

  “Are you insane? I don’t have the qualifications.” She cracked the eggs into a bowl.

  Amy grinned as she threw the shells into the bin. “I’ve read the fine print. It’s not just for qualified chefs—and you’re better than most of them anyway.”

  “Says you. They’d eat me alive with Tabasco sauce.”

  “Not true. Be honest, Cassidy, the prize money would help you to make this place spectacular, not to mention keeping the tax man from closing you down.”

  Cassidy felt wrinkles appear between her eyes. “How much are we talking about?”

  “If you make it to the finals, you win a hundred grand. The winner gets five times that.” Amy raised her arms in the air like she’d scored a goal. “It’s worth the punt, and I can manage for you here with a friend or two who will work for free coffee and cinnamon buns. We won’t be bored, but I know we can do it.”

  “Don’t make it sound so easy,” Cassidy lamented. “Besides, you know I’m not into competitive things.”

  “You’d rather risk losing this place?” Amy looked at her watch. “You’ve got fifteen minutes until auditions close in Nedlands. Move it, or lose everything. Stop being such a wuss. You can do it.”

  “Ahhh,” Cassidy moaned. “I hate you, Amy.” She tried to fix her smudged makeup in the mirror. “I look terrible, and they’ll think I’ve slept in these clothes. I can’t go looking like this.”

  “You have slept in those clothes.”

  Amy tumbled deodorant, mascara, and lip gloss out of her nearby handbag and piled it into Cassidy’s hands, along with her keys. “Put it on in the car.”

  “You keep deodorant in your handbag?” Cassidy’s eyes widened.

  “I had a different reason for not going home last night.” Amy winked.

  “What should I cook?” Cassidy ran back and forth in the café like she didn’t know what she was looking for. “You must be crazy giving me carte blanche to drive your car. I can barely ride my bicycle and I haven’t driven a manual shift since I got my license eons ago.”

  “You’ll be fine. Just think of the drive as an adventure. Cook this.” Amy thrust the citrus recipe back in her hands and led her outside. “You should know it by heart by now. You’ve been working on it all morning.”

  Cassidy shoved the piece of paper into her pocket and they raced outside.

  “Go by the coast, it’s probably quicker. Good luck, darl,” Amy said.

  Cassidy looked up at the sky. Dark, swollen rain clouds threatened to burst. She shook her head as she tumbled into her friend’s battered, old, yellow VW and wound down the window. “Luck took a vacation from my life this week,” she said, putting the key in the ignition and turning it. The car started but quickly stalled. “See?”

  “Just a slight hitch to keep the suspense going.”

  Amy instructed her how to put it into gear properly.

  “Try again.”

  After a couple of attempts, the engine spluttered to life and Cassidy kangaroo-hopped toward an unknown destiny.

  Chapter 6

  As Dante made his way to the auditions in record speed with classical music on full volume, he pondered the night before. After the restaurant closed, instead of the expected collaboration of disgruntled chefs, he’d come across a solo kitchen hand searching through one of the bins for the New Zealand salmon Dante had discarded earlier.

  “Charlie?” he’d called out to him. The middle-aged kitchen hand had jumped and dropped the large piece of fish onto the floor. “What are you doing?”

  Shaken, Charlie picked up the fish and went to throw it back into the bin. Dante noticed his shoes were scuffed and his voice shook.

  “I’m sorry, Dante, I…I thought you’d gone home. Please don’t fire me. I really need this job.”

  “I’m not going to fire you. You’re a good worker, Charlie.” Dante put his hands out and walked slowly toward him. “What’s all this about?”

  Charlie hung his head. “This is good fish. I thought I could just clean it up and my wife could cook it for our family. Please don’t be mad.”

  Dante felt an emotion he’d never felt before. Shame. He’d put his cause above sensibility. What he’d done was wasteful.

  “I’m not mad, but this fish has been out of the fridge for hours. It would make you and your family very sick.”

  “I wish I’d got to it earlier then,” Charlie replied sadly.

  “It’s a mistake I won’t be making twice,” Dante said. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention. Now, let’s cook a meal for your family that’s the best they’ve ever eaten and talk about the possibility of you starting an apprenticeship with us. The money’s better and it’s never too late in life to start something new.”

  That morning, before leaving for the audition, Dante had patiently shown Charlie some of the simpler preparations for breakfast and brunch for the café downstairs. What Charlie lacked in food knowledge and skills, he made up for in enthusiasm.

  Lost in his world of food and his quest to help his new apprentice, time had passed quickly for Dante, and he’d only become aware of how late he was running for the auditions when his sister had tugged his ear to get his attention. She’d advised if he didn’t leave immediately, he wouldn’t make it.

  The television show was his best chance to prove to a large audience what his cousin had been saying about him was fictitious. His restaurant patronage hadn’t slowed, but if Dante didn’t stop his cousin’s lies, Carlos could be in a position to destroy his business and reputation.

  As he sped along the highway with only the pelting rain to keep him company, he knew things were going to be tight with timing. But he’d been in tighter fixes than this before in his kitchen, and as long as nothing got in his way, including the yellow VW driver in front of him who had to get a move on, he’d make it. He had to. All he had to do was race through the amber light in front of him before it turned red.

  He yelled at the driver in front of him, even though he knew she couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Come on, come on, you stupid woman. Hurry up, dammit. You can make it through. We both can.”

  Instead of speeding up, the driver in front of him slowed down and braked suddenly. Dante clenched his hands around the steering wheel and also braked, leaving inches to spare between their cars. He blasted his car horn, two short beeps.

  The traffic lights eventually turned green, but the driver didn’t respond. He put his hand back on the horn and kept it there.

  “Move it, lady,” he shouted. Precious moments ticked by as his hands left the steering wheel to turn into tight fists.

  He revved his engine. The driver in front waved an apology to him as she
crunched her gears and dashed through the amber light.

  He snuck through behind her as the light edged to red. He knew he was driving too close in this dangerous weather, but she’d left him no choice with her terrible driving. Unexpectedly, her vehicle stalled. Dante’s tires skidded and he did everything possible to avoid a crash.

  But everything wasn’t enough.

  Chapter 7

  The impact was only a light tap on the rear of her car. Cassidy released the breath she’d been holding. Her internal voice told her shoulders to relax, but it felt as though she had steel rods in them.

  She heard the driver swear in another language as he slammed his car door and stomped toward her.

  The sky was dark, the rain a cloak to the outside world, but the rude symphony of car horns overtaking them reminded her they weren’t alone.

  Fat lot of good they’re going to be, though.

  She instinctively pushed down the lock on her door and fished for her mobile phone, only to discover it was dead.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  Should she honk her horn and hope that another driver would come to her rescue, or try to get the car started again? Judging by the way the other drivers were ignoring her plight, she had no choice but to go with the latter.

  She jumped as the other driver knocked on her window. Wiping away the condensation on the glass, she found herself staring into familiar deep blue eyes. It couldn’t be. She wound down the window a crack.

  “You okay?” he asked in a deep voice.

  “I am, no thanks to you,” she mumbled.

  “What? I can’t hear you.”

  Reluctantly, Cassidy wound down her window a bit more. The cold wind swept the rain inside the car to hit her face. She shivered and wished the heater in Amy’s car worked.

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “How are you, Dante? Long time no see. It must be at least six hours.”

  “Cassidy? Is that you? I don’t believe it.” He rubbed his eyes and took a closer look at her. “There’s no damage to my car because of the bumper, but I can’t tell what damage my car caused because yours was already pretty beaten up.”

  “Thanks for the observation. It’s still no excuse for driving so close.”

  “You should have been paying more attention to the lights and had a few more driving lessons.”

  He shook his head. Cassidy could tell he was making an effort to be patient.

  “Just give me your insurance details and I’ll fix you up later,” he said. “I’m in a hurry.”

  Rain dripped down his face. He wiped it away with his palm and then held both hands upward as if being patient was a painful experience.

  Cassidy sighed, unlocked her car, and opened the door. She stood in front of him and looked up into his face. Her coffee appreciation class seemed like a lifetime away. The day before, he’d given her goose bumps at first sight. Then he’d rejected her, for reasons unknown. Was meeting again like this preordained? Someone up there must have one heck of a sense of irony.

  “You stalking me?” she demanded, hands on hips. Although the rain had eased enough for them to talk outside, she was starting to shiver.

  “Not unless you’re auditioning for Celebrity Chef,” he said.

  “What if I was?”

  She eyed his white chef’s jacket and looked down at her wet, dirty T-shirt. She wished the rain would fall harder, to form a hole in the ground she could sink into.

  “You were?”

  He sounded surprised.

  “This competition isn’t just for qualified chefs…anyone can enter.”

  “I see.” His brusque voice became gentle. “We might still have a chance, but you won’t make it in your little yellow car that you drive like a devil. Park over there and I’ll drive you.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I have no intention of going anywhere with you. For all I know, you’ve been following me. We met yesterday, again this morning, and now you’re here.” She held her palms up to the heavens.

  “Cassidy, maybe I wasn’t really there for the tour, but…”

  “Ok, so now you’re officially freaking me out.”

  She stepped away from him, slowly, like a mouse trying to get away from a cat.

  “Cassidy…” He sounded exasperated, ready to give up. “I’m in a hurry and so are you. Can we save this for another time? Stay here if you like, or come with me. Your choice. But I really have to go.”

  “Why would you be entering a competition like this?”

  She was beginning to think she wasn’t the main item on his menu after all.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Dante replied as he turned his back on her and started to walk back to his car. The rain started to plummet down harder. “I really have to go.”

  Cassidy had to think fast. If he was a celebrity judge and not a competitor, it was time to make amends. If he wasn’t a judge, maybe all he wanted to do was get to the auditions on time so he could compete.

  “Dante, wait!” As she called out, her sandal slipped on wet gravel and she fell. “Ouch!”

  Dante was already in the car and had started the engine. He left the engine idling and got out again. He reached out his hand and pulled her up. “You okay?”

  Cassidy wished his hand would linger for a millisecond longer, and she hated herself for it. She rubbed her backside and fought the urge to swear. He leaned down, put his hand on her waist and helped her up, and she was disappointed when he let go.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “That offer still open for you to drive me there?”

  “Only if you move your car to the next side street faster than a meteor and you don’t mind my drag racing skills.”

  “Okay, okay, okay.” She ran to Amy’s car and got in. The engine started and she managed to jerk the car around the corner.

  Dante pulled up alongside her.

  “Figured out what the problem with the car was?” he called out.

  “The driver,” Cassidy yelled back as she grabbed her handbag and locked the car behind her.

  She opened his passenger door and stepped up to swing herself inside the warm oh so warm compartment. Sinking into the plush leather seat, she allowed the comforting atmosphere to soothe her aching pride. The classical piano music playing on the car stereo would normally have made her reach for the dial to change it to more contemporary listening, but on this occasion, she found it oddly comforting. Everything about this situation was out of place, so it fit.

  Dante looked at his watch. “We have four minutes ’til registration closes.”

  “It’s almost a ten-minute drive from here,” Cassidy said, resigning herself to the competition being over before it had even begun for either of them. “And that’s in good weather.”

  “Fasten your seat belt, Cassidy.” Dante smiled. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

  He drove like a man who’d been injected with a hundred shots of caffeine. Cassidy felt like a schoolgirl playing truant, in a car with someone she shouldn’t be with. His driving was risky but skillful, and she found the adrenaline it caused as exciting as if he’d blown in her ear.

  Almost.

  Several eyes-squeezed-shut moments and three precious minutes later, Dante skidded to a stop in front of the auditioning studio.

  “You can’t park here,” Cassidy exclaimed as he opened his car door and got out. “You’ll get a ticket or it’ll be towed.”

  Dante opened the back door and grabbed his knives. “You coming or not?”

  He raced to her side and opened her door so he could reach for her hand.

  Men still open doors? Verrry sexy.

  “I left the keys in the ignition, so they can move it if they have to,” he said.

  She let him pull her out of the car and they ran. With his long legs, he would have been a lot faster without her.

  “What if someone steals it?” She panted, trying to ignore how good his hand felt in hers. She forced herself not to squeeze it.

  “Homing device. Better still: insu
rance. Newer model just came out.”

  “Do you always have an answer for everything?”

  “Do you always ask so many questions?”

  Dante let go of her hand as they neared the registration desk. It was manned by an older woman whose white hair was tinged with blue. She was arguing with a chef and pointing at the clock.

  “Are you serious, you stupid woman?” The chef’s fists were clenched and he looked as if his facial expression alone could change the woman’s blue streaks to red. “You’re saying I can’t register because I’m thirty seconds too late? Have you looked at the weather out there or are you just interested in creating a storm in here?”

  Cassidy watched Dante stroll over. He beckoned her to follow.

  “Buongiorno, John. Is that any way to speak to a lady?”

  “Forget it, Dante. My mate before me was only five seconds late and she sent him packing, too.”

  Dante turned his full attention to the older woman, even though he was still speaking to his colleague. He leaned close and read her name badge.

  “Pearl was just doing her job. Show some respect and bow out gracefully. There’s always next year.”

  “Mr. Cristiani, you came,” she gushed. “We were so excited when we heard a rumor you were coming.” She handed him a clipboard with a registration form to complete.

  “Pearl, are you sure?” He patted her shoulder and indicated for Cassidy and the other chef to also receive forms. “We don’t want to get you into trouble.”

  Pearl put the minute hand back on the clock a fraction. “No problem. You’re what this competition is all about. You’re passionate, at the top of your game, and…” She paused and theatrically fluffed up her hair. “…the stuff women’s bedtime stories are made of.”

  Dante reached for her hand and kissed it. As Pearl sighed, he signed his name with a flourish and handed the registration form back to her.

  “Thanks, Pearl. Sei stata molto brava.” He turned to Cassidy. “See you in there. Good luck.”

  The other chef beat her to handing in his form. As Cassidy waited for her turn, she watched Dante’s physique as he walked away. Nice long legs, purposeful stride, wide shoulders she imagined herself massaging.