His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,23

speak, people listen.”

Jude wasn’t sure silence was a plus point. Keeping his thoughts to himself was a defence mechanism he hadn’t realised he wore like armour until he’d escaped Porthperrin. It stopped him from outing himself, and it also worked for him in busy kitchens where saying, “Yes chef!” was the only expectation.

“That strong but silent vibe you give off sure caught my attention,” Rob said, rueful. “Especially during the first heats of the contest. I didn’t realise how much other chefs blow their trumpets until you didn’t. You didn’t showboat for the judges either. You looked at whatever ingredients they gave us, and then committed. They noticed.” He used Jude’s weapon against him then, saying nothing else until Jude met his eye, caught like a fish on a tight line. Rob finally spoke very quietly. “You commit, Jude. That’s what I noticed about you. Like the way you committed to looking for your parents. I was pissed off that you left, but you’ve got to know how much I admire it. That kind of dedication…? Well, you can’t blame me for wanting more of it for myself, back then.”

It took every ounce of strength for Jude to break away from his gaze. It would have been so much easier to lean in and kiss him. He got busy washing shellfish instead, sure if he looked at Rob even one more time, he’d want to commit to far more than was safe here.

8

Jude maintained his silence until it was almost lunchtime, strangely aware of the quiet now that Rob had pointed out how often he was silent. The absence of words almost felt weighted, hanging heavy across his shoulders as he chopped and sliced like he’d done a thousand times already without realising how often the conversations he had were essentially voiceless. The knot he tied around a bundle of herbs mirrored the one in his chest, tight since he paid attention, restrictive now Rob had noticed. He added the herbs to a stockpot of fish bones before he eventually spoke. “You’ll need to make the portion size much bigger if you want to get in Carl’s good books.”

Rob enrobed tiny spoonfuls of a lobster in pasta so thin it was almost translucent. “I’m pretty sure I know what he wants.”

“Yeah, me too. He’s virtually my uncle.”

Rob simply glanced his way, interested, and speaking came easier. “I grew up with his kids,” Jude added. “And I ate his wife Susan’s cooking almost as often as I ate Mum’s. So I know he’ll want something substantial, not anything that dainty.” He frowned as he wiped the bench next to a bowl of whipped egg whites destined for soufflés. “Wait a minute.” He picked up a ramekin Rob had buttered and floured. It was truly tiny. “Nouvelle cuisine isn’t your usual style of cooking.”

“How do you know? A lot can change in a short time.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You know,” Rob interrupted. “I take back what I said about you being quiet.”

“I’m just saying I know these people. They’re like family, so I know fancy isn’t going to impress Carl into giving you a discount. Besides, he wouldn’t overcharge us.”

The sigh Rob let out was heartfelt. “No, really, I take back everything I just said. Go on then. If you’re suddenly feeling chatty, tell me what you’d cook if you were running this service?”

This was hardly a full lunch service. Cooking for two locals who weren’t even paying wouldn’t make or break the Anchor. Jude surveyed what was left on the counter. He settled on the sea bass. “If I wanted to impress Carl, I’d serve that, pan-seared.”

“That’s all?”

Jude peered into another crate of local produce. “With some of those chard stalks.”

“Seared too?”

“Simmered au blanc, I think, to retain the colour.” Not for too long, though. “It contrasts well with—”

“Black trumpet mushrooms in a beurre noisette?”

“Yes.” Jude frowned. “How did you….” Then suddenly he remembered. It was the recipe he’d discussed with Rob’s dad. “Wow, you were eavesdropping.”

Rob made a noncommittal sound and slid the bass towards Jude. “Go ahead. Cook for Carl, but we don’t have any of those mushrooms.”

“That’s okay. I can adapt. I’m used to it.” One of the best things about cooking on the Aphrodite had been that need to be creative. “There’s no running to the store if you’re anchored off the Maldives.”

“The Maldives? Sounds amazing. I’d spend all my time snorkelling.”

“Maybe, if you like sharks.”

“You saw some?” Rob looked up from the bite-size scallop he was about to set