The Gambler - Raquel Belle Page 0,95

say simply, but inside I’m glowing with pride. Getting this kind of compliment from a chef like Jacques is unimaginable. It’s just what I needed.

“What else do you have?” He asks eagerly, coming over to my side.

I suppress a smile. I couldn’t stand wondering if David had decided that the package deal, Lilly plus Deanna, was too big of a headache. So I’d asked Jacques if I could use a corner of his kitchen again. He was not only happy to oblige—he’s been by my side all morning, perusing my compositions book, making comments, taking notes, and trying dishes as I whip them up.

“Wait until you try the foie gras and then we’ll talk.” I grin as I finish searing the fatty piece of liver in the pan. Some people might turn up their noses at this but it’s considered a culinary gem.

“Yes, I’m curious to see what you have in mind for this French favorite.” Jacques eyes my handiwork, watching as I carefully plate the delicate dish.

“Well, it’s not the traditional take,” I acknowledge, slightly nervous. “It’s with a modern twist.” I add a drizzle of caramelized peach and maple syrup, a mixture I've been perfecting for months, and throw on some diced lemon.

“Ah ha, ah ha, the sweetness of the syrup will balance the bitterness of the liver.” Jacques nods approvingly. He’s already reaching for a fork.

“Wait.” I grin and then add the final kick, a dash of Peach schnapps.

“Okay, okay! It’s ready now, Chef?” Jacques laughs. “May I try?”

“Yes sir.” I watch as he takes a bite and chews thoughtfully, letting the flavors roll around in his mouth before giving a final verdict.

“It is superb!” He smiles huge and envelopes me in a large hug, the fork still in his hand. “What fun! You have the creative mind of a top chef.” He nods approvingly and then continues eating with gusto.

Just then, the restaurant’s young host sticks his head into the kitchen and waves to Jacques frantically, phone in hand. I’m grateful for a moment to hide my blushing face.

Jacques bustles over, grabs the phone, has a brief word with the person on the other end of the line—and then makes a beeline for me.

“I’m afraid you must leave now, Miss Madison.”

“Why?” My heart sinks. Am I in trouble for using the kitchen? But David said I had free run of the property, as long as I stayed on the property.

“You are going on a trip. You have your passport?”

“Uhh…yeah. Yeah, I do.” I’d packed it as ID in my purse that first night in Vegas.

“Super!” Jacques looks so excited, you’d think he was the one going on the trip. “Then go, go! Upstairs to pack. Vite, vite! Quickly! One of the security men comes to the penthouse to get you in thirty minutes!” He’s already behind me, untying the huge white apron I have on, and nudging me towards the door.

“What? Where are we going?” My mind reels in confusion. Is David so sick of me that he’s sending me back home early?

“Oh it is a surprise!” Jacques grins. “A very nice surprise.”

“But the soufflé!” My brain is in such a jumble, I’m not thinking straight.

Jacques laughs out loud. “You are born to be a chef, always thinking of the food first.”

“What should I pack? Should I bring all of my stuff?” I pepper him with questions as he opens the kitchen door for me and ushers me out.

“Just some nice evening things. And…” He holds up my compositions book. “Do you mind if I keep this? I don’t steal any ideas, I promise.” He holds up his hand as if taking an oath, looking very solemn. “I am just curious about the young chef’s mind.”

I pause. That ratty notebook is one of my most precious possessions.

“I will take excellent care.” Jacques pats the book gently. I will have it brought up to your room when I’m finished. It will be safe and sound.”

“Yes, okay.” I trust Jacques. And right now I have to focus on something other than food—packing.

I swiftly make my way upstairs, still confused. Do I really want to do this? I have no idea where I’m going or who with. Do I trust David? I think back over the last six nights. And I think of how he stepped in to help Deanna yesterday. Yes, I do trust him. So then there’s only one thing to do.

Once upstairs, I grab a small travel bag, and shove in a couple dresses and pairs

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024