kitchen for the next three nights. On night four, Chef Arturo felt confident enough to let me move off of prep and onto the sauce station. I still had to serve in the dining room the other two nights of the week but being in the kitchen made it worth it. I could literally see my dreams materializing. Visions of running my own kitchen filled my head. But I had a long way to go. I never went to culinary school so it would take me a lot longer to get my skills up to par with the chefs in this industry.
Tonight we were hustling. It was Friday and we were slammed. But the promise that I could have the weekend off kept me going. Working in the kitchen came with a nice raise that made up for the loss of tips on the floor. I’d been working my ass off and was looking for a little self-care wine weekend alone. Although, I did promise Max I’d have brunch with him on Sunday.
The rowdy kitchen fell to a hush. I looked up to see Ozi staring back at me. Arturo ran over to him and shook his hand. They conversed back and forth in Italian, so fast I could only pick up every other word. They liked and respected each other. That was evident from the wide grins on their faces and their relaxed body language. Arturo kept his hand on Ozi’s shoulder while he talked. Then he ushered him over to a large pot and shoveled a heaping spoon of Bolognese sauce into his mouth. Ozi’s eyes lit up as he swallowed.
“Ti piace?” Arturo asked. “Do you like?”
Ozi patted him on the back. “Si, Arturo. Molto bene. Delicious as always.”
“Grazie. Thank you.” Arturo beamed with pride like a child who had just received a gold star.
Ozi towered over me but I didn’t dare look up again. I continued to stir the bechamel I was working on for the truffle mac and cheese.
“Ciao, Raven. They treating you good back here?” His voice was silky and laced with desire. Images of his breath on my neck, his lips against mine, flashed through my mind, making me light headed.
I glanced over at Arturo who was watching us intently. “Great actually.” Arturo let out a sigh of relief and went back to plating. “I’m learning so much.”
Ozi smiled wide and dipped his finger in the sauce. He sucked it off slow. He closed his eyes as he savored it. “Wow, Raven. This…this tastes perfecto.”
Despite the nerves fluttering in my chest, I was pleased that he liked my sauce. Ozi was a perfectionist. That’s why his restaurants were award winning. “Thank you,” I murmured.
Enzo rushed in. “The vans are loaded and ready to go for tomorrow, signore. I’ll ride with the staff as usual.”
Ozi nodded and gave me a wink. “See you tomorrow night, Raven.”
Wait. What? He dashed out before I could respond. I arched an eyebrow at Enzo. “What did he mean by that?”
“Ozi’s party is tomorrow night. At his country estate. Didn’t you get the email I sent you?”
Email? Now we were being formal? I don’t even remember giving him my email address. The world I came from did not prepare me for this one. “Um…” I bit my lip.
Enzo burst out laughing. “I’m only kidding, Raven. There was no email. When you work for Ozi, you have to be prepared to change shifts at a moment’s notice. We will be catering a party at his house tomorrow night. It’s a bit of a drive so we always spend the night. The van will pick you up at eleven am sharp.” He helped himself to a spoonful of sauce. “Mmm, delicious.”
The rest of the night was a blur. After breaking down my station, I clocked out and hailed a cab. I still didn’t feel comfortable taking the subway at night by myself. Ugh. This was the last thing I wanted to happen. Not only was I not getting the weekend off like I’d planned, but I was going to have to spend the night at Ozi’s house. I called Max on my way home.
“We’re still doing brunch on Sunday, right?” Max spurted out before even saying hello.
“Well, I guess that depends on when we get back. Have you ever been to Ozi’s other house before? Where are we going to sleep?”
“We usually have a slumber party in Ozi’s room. We feed him grapes and take turns massaging each other.” Max snorted, but