Burn (Heat #1)(6)

I don't take it. I know it. I saw him out of the corner of my eye when Sophia and I were leaving. We had danced for more than an hour, pushing away the earnest hands of a half dozen guys who didn't ignite anything in either of us.

When I noticed Sophia yawning for the fifth time in the span of ten minutes, I grabbed hold of her elbow and hauled her out the exit. We were on the street, waiting for an Uber, when she leaned into my chest and almost fell asleep standing up.

I used the time to catch my breath after seeing Tyler staring at me inside the club. His eyes were dark, his clothing a perfect match. While he watched me walk out, I wondered if the woman hanging on his shoulder would have a taste of him at the end of the night.

"Briefly." He walks across the kitchen toward a tablet sitting on the counter near a set of knives that belong to one of the senior chefs. I know better than to invade that area. It's strictly off limits until you've earned a place there. "Who was the woman with you?"

It's not the first time a man has asked me that after seeing me with Sophia. She's exquisite, her facial features as delicate as the rest of her. I have a good six inches on her when we're both barefoot.

"Sophia, "I answer evenly. "Her name is Sophia. She's my roommate. We're close friends."

"She reminds me of my sister." He picks up the tablet and heads toward me. "They have a similar look."

"Sophia's beautiful." I set the filleting knife I'm holding down before I wipe my hands on the white side towel I keep tucked in my half apron.

His eyes graze over my face, slowly, meticulously as if he's studying me for the first time. "Sophia is almost as beautiful as my sister. A lot of women in this city have the same look as the two of them. There's a pretty, blue-eyed, brunette around every corner."

I don't see it that way but I'm not a visual connoisseur of women the way he is. "There are a lot of beautiful women in New York."

"I agree," he says huskily. "There are a lot of beautiful women, but few are beautiful and talented. That's a rare breed."

"A rare breed?" I question warily. "There are at least four beautiful and talented women working for you right now. It's actually more if you count the women outside the kitchen."

He steps closer. When he's this close, there's no longer any wonder about why Pamela, the television host, was aroused. I can sense the energy that flows from him. It's intense. He's a force of nature in the kitchen. I can't imagine what he'd be like stripped naked in a bed.

"There are several talented women who work for me, Cadence." His dark eyes wander over my face. "Some are beautiful, but only one is captivating."

I don't break his gaze, not when my co-workers rush through the door, not when one stops to ask him a question and not even when he tells me that he needs me, and only me, to stay after the restaurant closes tonight.

***

"You're likely wondering why I asked you to stay." He walks toward me after saying goodnight to the rest of the staff.

"Naturally." I stand from where I've been sitting on a chair next to the chef's table. Tonight's guest was Asher Foster and his fiancée. He's an award winning musician who, apparently, tipped generously. I heard the servers whispering their excitement as soon as the table was cleared.

Chef Monroe had handled their entrees himself, taking time to prepare each with care and precision. He also spent the bulk of the time they were here, standing next to the table, explaining his unique creations in detail. It was a chef's special in every sense.

The smiles on their faces suggested they were both satisfied when they left. The smile on Tyler's face was less noticeable. I listened as he took their compliments with grace and gratitude.

"You're interesting, Cadence."

"Interesting?" I adjust the leg of my black dress pants. It's part of our required uniform even though temperatures in the kitchen soar when dinner service is at its peak. I've learned to adjust. I pull my hair up into a tight bun, I moisture everywhere every time I step out of the shower. I drink bottle after bottle of water and when my shift is done, I lock myself in my room and slip out of my clothes.

The window of my bedroom is almost always ajar. I love the fresh air even if it's soiled with exhaust and the aroma of the less-than-stellar restaurant down the block from my apartment. The cool breeze of the winter, the warm air of the fall and spring and even the suffocating humidity of the summer help to rid me of the heat that permeates me when I'm working in a professional kitchen next to a hot stove and a dozen warm bodies.

"You're interesting in a good way." He shrugs off his chef's jacket exposing a plain white t-shirt that is stretched across his broad chest. "Are you seeing anyone?"

I contemplate the question before I answer. This wasn't what I was expecting when he insisted I stay. He may have called me captivating but I've heard the whispered rumors of how he never gets involved with women who work for him. I thought he was going to touch on our dual television appearance. I opt for honesty as I look beyond him to the empty kitchen. "I'm not, Chef."

"Call me Tyler when we're alone."

"Tyler," I repeat back.

He steps closer. "I'm hosting a VIP event here on Friday night. We're closing early. I've invited a few friends, but it's mainly industry people. I'd like you to be here."