Burn (Heat #1)(13)

"The show wants you back on." His gaze drops when he pulls his smartphone from the pocket of his pants after it chimes. "I told them I'd speak to you about it first."

I watch as he reads something on his phone before he tucks it back in his pocket. I want his full attention. I also want to respect his time. "I'd love to do the show again."

"They're doing grilling week features next week. I thought you and Tyler could prepare the octopus dish that he just introduced. I'll speak to him about it as well."

"That sounds great," I say excitedly. "I'm looking forward to it."

"You wouldn't happen to know if he's coming in for dinner service, would you?" His phone chimes again but this time he ignores it. "I've been trying to reach him all day."

I haven't seen him since I kissed him goodbye at my apartment door on Saturday night. He left shortly before Sophia came home. I didn't tell her about any of it. She'd gone straight to bed and yesterday, she spent the entire day at another fashion design conference while I worked on fine-tuning a few new recipes in our kitchen.

"I'm not sure, sir." I look at the clock on the wall. "Sometimes he arrives right before service starts."

I'll hang around for that." He motions toward the doorway. "I'll let you get back to work. Thank you again, Chef."





CHAPTER 13


"You handled yourself well at service tonight, Cadence," Tyler says as his shoulder brushes against mine. "You're improving daily. I sometimes find it hard to believe that you just graduated from culinary school."

I smile as I look at him. "I'm a quick learner, Chef."

"That she is," Maribel chimes in as she walks past us with a handful of carrots. "I'm gathering together some of the overripe produce for the shelter down the block. Do you want to help, Den?"

She picked up the nickname from Sophia. They had lunch together today near Sophia's office. Maribel's husband owns a boutique clothing store in Chelsea. It was news to me until Sophia filled me in via text this afternoon. She's planning on showing Maribel her portfolio when the time is right. For now, she's nurturing the friendship.

"Cadence and I need to discuss something." Tyler rests his hip against the counter.

I half-shrug as Maribel rolls her eyes playfully from where she's standing behind him. "I'll help next time."

He looks at me for a long moment. "I don't want what happened between us the other night to complicate things here."

I reach toward the counter, resting my hand against the edge. I'm surprised we're having this discussion in the middle of the kitchen, with the staff buzzing around us. "Should we talk about this in a more private place?"

His eyes volley from my face back to the people working behind us. "I'm not going to hide what's going on between us, Cadence. I don't think I could if I tried."

I swallow against my dry throat. I reach to the right to where my water bottle is resting near my station. "What's going on between us, Chef?"

"Tyler," he says quietly while he takes the bottle from me and unscrews the cap. He swallows a mouthful of the chilled water before he hands it to me. "When we talk about personal things, don't call me Chef."

I sigh as I bring the bottle to my lips. I drink while I stare at him, studying his expression. He looks serious, calm. "We spent part of one night together. I don't have expectations."

"I do," he bites back quickly. "I want to explore this. I'd like to spend more time with you. Time away from here when we're not wearing these jackets and I'm not angry with you for burning a steak."

He raised his voice earlier when I walked away from a steak in favor of retrieving the sides for the dish. I was covering two stations briefly while another chef took a call. It didn't matter though. It was a misstep on my part and it didn't go unnoticed by him. He corrected me, in front of my co-workers and then after the smoke cleared; he brushed against me, his hand lingering on my hip, his fingers trailing delicately over the bottom of my back.

"You can come to my place tonight," I offer. "My roommate will be fast asleep by the time our shift is done."

"About your place," he says in a smooth voice. "It's impressive, large. What exactly does your roommate do for a living?"

I should tell him that I own the apartment that Sophia and I live in. It will take a lot of explaining and now isn't the time.

"Sophia works in fashion," I answer honestly. "It's her passion."

"She must do well for herself. I know what I pay you and there's no way in hell you can afford a place like that."

I laugh as he turns and walks away, knowing that if this blossoms into something worth exploring, that I'll have no choice but to explain my life before I went to culinary school.

***

"Your eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I've ever seen." He stares into them as he sits across from me on my bed. "They're so pale."

I hated my eyes when I was young. The kids at school had a thousand different nicknames for me, all designed to make fun of my fair complexion and light eyes. I learned as I got older, how to shade the area around them so they pop more. I still hear comments about them on an almost daily basis, but now they're compliments, mostly from women asking if I'm wearing colored contact lenses. I don't. This is me, exactly how I am.