Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,29

apologize, but I didn’t think I could say anything without suggesting we go into the storeroom and put our hands all over each other.

Besides, she’d started it. If she couldn’t take it, she shouldn’t dish it out.

Isla picked up the bowl and shoved it at me. “Here, all yours.”

“Thanks.” I gave her a slow smile and put another piece into my mouth. I chewed and made sounds of pleasure. “Mmm.”

She rolled her eyes. “What are your thoughts on the Best of Brooklyn cook-off? I know it's a month away but I know Nico wants to approve a menu soon.”

I had plenty of thoughts about the competition, but in the interest of fostering a better working relationship between us, I wanted to hear her thoughts. “What did you do last year? I don’t want to repeat anything.”

“Last year we did a twist on Tex Mex. Street corn, pork belly fajitas, that kind of thing.”

I nodded, moving in next to her as she sliced the tenderloin. I started making the rub for our smoked brisket. We had a smoker in the back, venting to the alley, and I had to make the rub to start the brisket for overnight smoking. We would slice and serve it tomorrow with our special sauce. “I get that. But I don’t want to be predictable.”

Isla didn’t say anything.

“What?” I asked. “Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”

She cleared her throat. “Was there a question in your statement? Because I didn’t hear one. Are you asking for my opinion?”

Her flirty facade was slipping just a little. Not a lot, but this Isla felt more familiar than the one who had been pulling a Susie Sunshine routine the last few days.

“Sorry, I wasn’t clear enough. Yes, I want your opinion. Your ideas.” I had a few of my own, but she was going to be working side by side with me. There should be some elements of collaboration.

Isla gave me side-eye as she worked. She was shorter than me but despite being petite had a large presence. When I stood next to her like this, I was acutely aware of her body. Hell, who was I kidding? I was twenty blocks away from her and I was aware of her body. We had unfinished business that unfortunately needed to remain unfinished. Indefinitely.

As a result I was going to work extra hard to not let her know how much I really wanted to press her against the wall and bury myself inside her.

“No chef wants his sous chef’s opinion. Or if you do, you’ll just steal my ideas and pass them off as your own.”

In a lot of cases, she wasn’t wrong. I was mildly offended, but she didn’t know me and she was looking out for herself. I had to respect that. “That wasn’t my intention, seriously, but I get your hesitation. Here’s what I was thinking. Since we’re known for our East Coast barbecue style, we play with that. Pull seafood and traditional deli food into our concept. Elevate the clam, do a spin on a lobster roll. A brisket bagel. Really lean in to that angle.”

Isla gave me a look of surprise. “I had similar thoughts,” she said. “I thought it was a reach to go Tex Mex last year when that’s not what we’re known for. It felt like a cop-out. Like when you think cookout you have to go street corn.”

“Exactly. Are you on board with helping me plan the menu? Both our names on it.” That was certainly being nice to Isla. Nico would be happy. Besides, I was curious about Isla. As a person, as a chef.

Oh, not to mention that Nico said if Isla quit, he was going to fire me. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I sure in the hell didn’t want to take any chances.

There was a slight pause, where she looked like she was trying to figure out my angle, but she just nodded and said, “Sure.”

“Are you free next week to come in early? We can play around in the kitchen.”

I had thought she would bristle just a little at my choice of words. Instead she gave me a smile. “Of course. I love to play.” She reached out and picked up a piece of mango.

She slid her tongue over the fruit in a way that had my cock responding.

Damn. She had turned the tables on me. Again.

Isla was a hot little enigma and I had a feeling I was going to get