Fire In the Kitchen Page 9

  The venom from Carlos was coated with sugar. “Be my guest,” he said. “Today you’re the boss. Tomorrow will be significantly different.”

  Dante added a healthy splash of vino cotto and freshly ground pepper. He tasted the sauce again and added some sprigs of rosemary. “Bellisima,” he said, putting his index finger and thumb to his lips and kissing them.

  Carlos put his hand out for Dante’s spoon and wiped it on a tea towel. He dipped it into the sauce and sampled it. “Not bad,” he conceded. “Maybe more basil.”

  Dante dismissed his suggestion. “Leave it, it’s good. Get onto the cannelloni.”

  “Yes, Chef.” Carlos smiled at the cameras and refused to look at him, so Dante welcomed the cue to walk away.

  As usual, time stood still while he was cooking and checking up on what the other chefs were cooking. He took his rabbit dish out of the oven and tasted it. He knew it would settle in the final ten minutes and that the flavors would intensify. He would serve it rustico style in the cast iron pot it had been prepared in for everyone to help themselves, as the team had agreed. Dante called out last-minute instructions for his team to clean up as he went to check on Cassidy’s final presentation.

  He felt like an insensitive schmuck. As far as her cooking talents were concerned, she hadn’t deserved to be the last one to be chosen, but she’d been a danger to the brief. Needing to progress in the competition, he’d had to choose her last. Or more specifically, not choose her at all. He cringed as he thought about the brave lady keeping a straight face whilst being publicly humiliated. It was time to make amends.

  He took a deep breath, looked at his watch, and rushed inside. He knew the bruschetta she’d made would be tasty and would most certainly have a unique twist.

  Maybe a hint of lemon rind?

  But his determination to apologize dissipated when he saw the chaos.

  “Taste this,” she said. She was excited, but Dante felt like a figure made out of clay, his face frozen into an expression of disbelief. He’d never seen a real-life tsunami.

  “What. Have. You. Done?”

  Cassidy looked around the kitchen. He watched her inhale heavily and bite down on a fingernail. “I can fix this. I just got excited about my dish. It’s all good. Don’t panic.”

  Dante stood, transfixed, as though everything he was looking at had just been conjured up and wasn’t really there. He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes, muttering, “Merda-merda-merda.”

  Cassidy rushed to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He shook his head and she removed it. “You want to murder me?”

  “I said merda, not murder.” He sighed. “But that’s not a bad idea. You’ve ruined everything.”

  Cassidy put her clenched fists on her hips. “I’ve ruined everything? What about what you’ve done to me? You left me for last and gave me a dish a toddler could prepare blindfolded.”

  “The producers chose this challenge for a reason. Teamwork and organization are vital to good food preparation. Without it you have…” He pointed to the mess around him and curled his finger back as his hand formed a fist. He breathed deeply. “…you have this. Thanks to you, the whole team is out of the game, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Congratulations.”

  Cassidy felt her cheeks start to flush. “I felt stupid with nothing to do and I came out to try and help the team, but I got nowhere. In fact, they were really mean, and I was rejected outright for the second time today—particularly by Carlos. Even you weren’t interested in giving me extra work when I came outside. What was I supposed to do? Just stand here and look like an idiot in front of the cameras?”

  “According to Carlos, there were no rejections last night.” Dante leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “He didn’t come back to our room for several hours.”

  Cassidy stood still, unable to move. “Is that what he said to you when we got off the bus?” Her low voice was barely audible. “Not that it’s any of your business, but he didn’t make it past my door, and as far as I’m concerned, I have absolutely no interest in any member of the Cristiani family ever doing so.”

  Relief seeped into Dante’s bones. He felt a sudden release of the shoulder tension he’d been holding onto when Carlos had told him earlier he’d been with Cassidy the night before. Dante had refused to believe him, but hearing her recount how she’d rejected Carlos’ advances had turned off his jealousy switch. However, he crossed his arms to deal with the problem at hand.

  “Why would you do this?” he said. “I came to apologize for not picking you first on my team, but instead you’ve proven I was right not to. You’re a loose cannon.”

  “How about we save this for later?” Cassidy looked at her watch and then rushed to fill the sink with soapy water. “We’ve still got time. Help me. Grab a towel.”

  As if on cue, a cameraman got closer and Valerie entered the kitchen.

  Probably to get a saucer of milk.

  “Oh, dear,” Valerie said. “Less than three minutes. We’re counting down. This is definitely the hottest kitchen in town.” She ran her finger along a greasy bench and shook her head as she rubbed it against her thumb. “Maybe for all the wrong reasons?”

  She walked over to Cassidy and wiped her fingers on her apron, which had already seen better days.

  Cassidy frowned at her and clattered all the dishes next to the sink. A metal bowl fell to the floor with a clang. She picked it up and settled it precariously among the other items. “Can we have a group chat about this later?” she said. “The day’s not over yet.”

  “This competition was over for me as soon as I got you on my team. It’s as if you’re discussing a filling, when you need a major root canal to fix this.” Dante picked up a dishcloth, looked again at the mess and threw it down on the bench. “You’re a foolish girl who hasn’t thought about the implications of going off on your own cooking tangent. You’ve ruined all our chances with your thoughtlessness.”

  *

  How could she have been attracted to him? The one person she’d thought had been on her side was now her biggest enemy. He’d managed to touch on her biggest insecurity—not being good enough—without even trying.

  “I’m sorry I don’t live up to your perfect standards, Dante. Do you speak to your apprentices like that? Obviously the recent media reports were true. Everything you do in the industry is for personal gain and you don’t care who you trample on to get it.”

  “Play nice, people.” Valerie’s tone indicated she was enjoying the situation and thinking about the ratings. “Tick tock.”

  Dante looked at Cassidy and then Valerie. He picked up the platter of bruschetta and walked toward the door. “I think we’ve said enough for the public’s entertainment. I’ll leave you to clean up your own mess.”

  “Where are you going?” Cassidy bit her bottom lip to prevent it from quivering. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d felt more vulnerable. What was she thinking when she’d signed up for this? She wouldn’t cry, she would not cry.

  “We may have lost the challenge and our place in the competition, but I’m going to make sure the rest of my team goes out with a bang.” Dante looked back at her. “My chefs are going to serve up their first and last team meal in style. You stay here. You lost your place on the team when you decided to go solo with your ideas against the group status quo.”

  “The clock says less than two minutes to go.” Valerie’s voice was as sweet as thick glucose as she rushed after Dante, obviously keen to get his final moments recorded. She called out to Cassidy en route, “Hope you didn’t give up your day job, my dear. You’re not Superwoman. It’s impossible for you to have the sink and bench tops clean and clear of junk in that time frame.” Valerie slapped her hand in a high five against the hand of the director, who was coming into the kitchen as she was leaving.

  Cassidy put her hands on her hips and surveyed the scene. Her lips curved into a smile as she opened the fridge and made space. Like lightning, she picked up all
the dirty dishes and put them in the fridge. She picked up Dante’s discarded sponge and rinsed it in the soapy water. She cleaned down the stove, benches and food spills on the floor. She pulled the plug in the sink and turned on the tap to get rid of the suds. The crew’s cheering for her became positive background noise as she took off her dirty apron and threw it in the freezer along with the dishcloth.

  “Go, Cassidy, ten seconds,” the director called excitedly. “Nine…eight…seven…”

  Cassidy put the lid on her risotto and picked up the heavy pot with a potholder.

  “Six…five…four…”

  She put her shoulders back and looked directly into the camera with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Three…two…one.”

  She grinned. “Dinner is served.”

  *

  Dante didn’t have the heart to tell his team what Cassidy had done. They’d find out soon enough. In the final minute, he’d quickly inspected all the food and was satisfied they were dishes he was pleased to present to the street’s occupants, the crew, and the thousands of unseen viewers. The artificially loud sound of an oven timer rang to indicate their time was up.

  “Okay, everyone, that’s it.” Dante clapped his hands and everyone joined him. “Plenty of fantastic food here, let’s go show it off.”

  Waiters wearing red, green, and white approached them in procession to take their food away. The crew arranged Dante’s team in a curved line to the left of the large movie screen and mirrored the opposing team on the other side. Cassidy was herded in as the last person on his line. Dante fought the urge to keep looking her way. Although tantalizing food surrounded him, his stomach churned. If he’d given her a more challenging dish in the first place, his team wouldn’t be in this position now. In her place, he would’ve come up with another dish, too.

  The producers hadn’t held back on their budget. They must have high hopes for this show. Two long tables were set with crisp white tablecloths, black table runners, and plates that matched the Italian flag. A man dressed like an Italian peasant played the accordion as the movie was projected in the background. Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck’s classy black-and-white images brought the colorful street scene to life. Visually, it was going to be television magic. Now all the producers would be looking for was a little bit of drama to add to the food recipes. He was sure they weren’t going to be disappointed. He’d never be able to take his interaction with Cassidy back, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He’d meant what he’d said…but he wished he’d used a more private forum.

  Could this evening get any worse?

  The accordion player started to play the theme from the famous movie. A spotlight appeared on Valerie, who was dressed the same as Audrey Hepburn was in Roman Holiday. She wore a short dark wig, a white shirt, a red-and-white striped scarf, a belt pulled in to accentuate her skinny waist, and a flowing skirt with flat shoes. On a shorter woman, it would have looked ordinary, but it played up to her long frame.

  And she knows it.

  He looked over at Cassidy, who was at least ten inches shorter than Valerie. The jacket they’d given her to wear was too big for her petite frame and she looked a bit like a child trying to fit into her father’s clothes. If they’d given it to Valerie to wear, she would have insisted they tailor it to fit. However, Cassidy hadn’t seemed to notice, or care. She’d just rolled up her sleeves and got on with it. Besides, all eyes were currently on Valerie, which was just the way she wanted it.

  The street’s occupants applauded loudly and Valerie did a twirl, much to their delight. She knew how to play the crowd, but Dante knew she had a cardboard heart.

  “Thank you everyone, and thank you for allowing us into your homes and your street. We hope we can repay you with food that is anything but simple home cooking.” Valerie did a low curtsey, as if she were meeting the Queen.

  The diners applauded wildly and Dante grinned back at them. This was why he cooked, to make people happy. He wasn’t going to think about how the evening was going to end, he was going to be caught up in the moment and try to forget the impossibility of his team winning.

  Valerie continued to speak into her microphone as she walked over to the two teams.

  “It’s been a great afternoon, with some interesting developments. Let’s hurry and serve our hungry guests before everything gets cold and the relationships between our contestants freeze.”

  The teams were directed to stand in front of the dishes they’d prepared and serve them to the hungry crowd. Dante shook his head as he saw Cassidy was serving her bruschetta and the unauthorized mushroom risotto. If she was serious about becoming a chef, she’d have to learn how to become a team player.

  He’d seen what the other team had prepared, and the food looked just as good as his team’s. If he didn’t know they were about to be disqualified, he’d have believed they were in with a good chance.

  As he served his braised rabbit dish, he was humbled by the number of fans he still had. The men wanted to shake his hand and the women wanted to kiss him. Dante wondered how the registrar, Pearl, had gotten an invitation to attend, and laughed as she introduced him to her balding husband with a disappointed sigh.

  It was difficult to tell which way the guests were swinging with their votes. They didn’t hold back with their compliments, or their distaste.

  After everyone had been served, the chefs were invited to taste their opposing team’s dishes. After tasting a particularly good Italian meringue with summer fruits poached in a sparkling prosecco, Dante knew it was going to be close.

  He surreptitiously made his way over to Cassidy’s risotto and took a tentative taste. He conceded it was the best risotto he’d ever tasted—it was creamy and flavorsome, with a hint of sage, just the right amount of parmesan, and…something else. He grinned when he realized she’d added Gruyère cheese, and perhaps taleggio. Gutsy move, but it worked.

  He looked up and saw she was staring straight at him, waiting for his reaction to her dish. After hesitating for a moment, he put his thumbs up. The smile she gave him in return could have lit up the entire street. She may have done a terrible thing, but this dish was at the opposite end of that scale. He looked forward to making his next risotto the Cassidy way.

  She may have had a point about him lessening her chances of succeeding in the competition because of the dish he’d given her to prepare, and he felt bad about that. It still didn’t mean he forgave her, though, and as he saw her walking toward him, he turned around and deliberately congratulated a chef on the other team. The same uncomfortable feeling in his stomach returned and he chose to ignore it, the way he had just ignored her.

  *

  Cassidy wondered if Dante would ever talk to her again.

  If he’s trying to punish me, he gets an A+.

  What she’d said to Dante about the media reports being true was repellent to her. She’d made a good dish, but at a lousy price. Her teammates, if they could be called such, hated her, and Dante was doing his best to avoid her. Adrenaline had kicked in when she’d cleared the benches, but was it still possible they’d be disqualified because she’d dumped her mess in the fridge? What had she been thinking? Her foolish pride had gotten in the way of what was best for everyone. She pulled her cap lower to cover part of her face.

  I’ve ruined everything.

  Like gridiron teams, the two competing groups huddled together to discuss their chances. Cassidy felt like an umpire, a game’s necessary evil, watching from afar. They hadn’t invited her in and she stood a few paces away. Were they going to play fair and let her join them? Had she been playing fair? Did she even deserve to be part of the group hug?

  Dante straightened and looked around until he found her. “Get over here, Miss Summers, you’re here ’til the end.”

  Cassidy wasn’t sure now if being invited to join them was her preferred option. The circle broke next to Dante, just widely enough for her to be swallowed up by the others. Dante’s arm went around her shoulders to dra
w her in and a chef on the other side did the same. It had been a long day and she now found herself commuting in testosterone city, which wasn’t such a bad thing, if only she could figure out how to hold her nose without them noticing. The atmosphere was dynamic and she suddenly understood why so many people liked team sports. It was about what was best for everyone, and she realized even though her risotto had been a great dish, she had been taking a risk on everyone’s behalf, not just on her own. No wonder Dante had been so angry with her. She was silent as she listened to her team make comments about the evening.

  “We’re in with a great chance.”

  “Dunno…the espresso gelato they put up was a winner.”

  “Too much salt in their chicken.”

  “Best dish of the night was Valerie.”

  “Not bad risotto, Cassidy.”

  Cassidy was surprised by the unexpected compliment from one of the chefs and felt tears of pride prick her eyes. “Thanks.”

  “I think you all did a fantastic job, and no matter how this evening goes down, I’m proud of you all,” Dante said. “We should cherish our visit here in memory as long as we live.”

  Cassidy knew he’d played with one of the famous last lines from the movie playing in the background because watching old movies was a favorite pastime of hers.

  If anyone else had tried to say it, they would have sounded corny.

  By making his subtle statement, he was letting his team know they were all winners, even though he believed they were about to lose.

  The sound of Valerie testing her microphone indicated their time was up, and they took their places for the verdict.

  Valerie spoke to her invisible television audience.

  “Welcome back to our culinary version of Roman Holiday. It’s been a great night, and all the votes have been counted. The most popular dish earns its creator immunity, even if he or she is on the losing team. There were two standout contenders: Dante’s brilliant braised rabbit and…”

  Valerie waited for the cheers to die down from the other chefs congratulating Dante before she continued.