Spicy (Palate #1) Read online

  “Thank you. You look…nice,” he said after a momentary pause. Gavin’s eyes traveled over my body as he took in my choice of clothing. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. Clearly I stuck out like a sore thumb.

  There was no way I could just ignore it, so I decided to bite the bullet. I crossed my arms because hostile stances, as my mother disapprovingly called them, gave me courage. There was something about standing there with my arms folded or my hands on my hips that gave me a little confidence boost – and that was something I could certainly use.

  “Was I supposed to wear something different? I didn’t know there was a dress code,” I began to explain, hating that things were off to a less than stellar start. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. These days I considered myself a fashionista if my clothes were simply clean. And yet here I was getting all worked up about an honest and, let’s face it, pretty minor misunderstanding.

  “You weren’t supposed to wear anything different,” Gavin assured me.

  “But…?”

  “Come with me,” he ordered before I could get another word out. He took my wrist then and led me through the exquisitely decorated restaurant, pausing only to nod hello to familiar faces. He moved with confidence, his head held high and his grip on my wrist firm.

  As Gavin walked it was like the seas parted, important-looking people stepping out of the way so he could forge a path for the two of us. Clearly he was in charge. But then from what I’d seen of him on the show, he made no secret of that fact. Gavin Rothe was a perfectionist, a playboy and above all else, a self-indulgent, egotistical jerk.

  I reminded myself that as we walked until I was silently chanting it over and over in my head. Keeping those things in mind helped me feel less intimidated by the infamous celebrity chef. I was, after all, just there to do a job. As long as I went home with money in my pocket, who cared about anything else?

  Gavin led me right to the back of the restaurant. I found myself staring at a door just off the kitchen labeled Staff Only. When Gavin opened it, I saw that behind it was a winding hallway with a number of closed doors on either side.

  Like a man on a mission, Gavin purposefully ushered me inside the second door on the left.

  He flipped on a light and I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. It was an elegantly furnished lounge, complete with a waterfall feature on one wall and a gas fireplace opposite of it. Black leather furniture and a gorgeous rug tied it all together. It looked like something out of a magazine.

  We both seemed to notice at the same time that Gavin’s hand was still encircling my wrist. He let go of me abruptly, cleared his throat and took a step back, all while averting his eyes. I toyed with my hair just so I’d have something to do with my hands. At the same time, I sternly ordered my heart to stop pounding so hard but infuriatingly, it just ignored me.

  Hearts can be stubborn that way sometimes, you know.

  “This place is gorgeous,” I said as I tugged self-consciously at the hem of my shirt. I hated how I never seemed to know what to do with my hands. I wished I’d worn something with pockets.

  The look on Gavin’s handsome, masculine face was one I knew well. My former boss often had that same gleam in his eye whenever someone complimented his establishment. It was plain to see Gavin was proud of the business he’d created.

  “Some of my VIP guests prefer to enjoy drinks in here, away from the prying eyes of the public…not to mention the paparazzi,” he explained. “In fact, I have a group coming in later this evening. But for now, we have the room to ourselves.”

  I stared at him incredulously. I’d gotten the impression he’d been flirting with me the previous night but I’d never imagined he’d be so brash as to do this. A tiny part of me was admittedly excited – God, it had been a long time since I’d had sex – but mostly I was just outraged.

  “Look,” I finally said, my voice trembling ever so slightly, “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me or what you think you know, but I’m not that kind of girl.”

  The corners of Gavin’s mouth turned up slightly at that. He regarded me with a detached curiosity that only caused my temper to rage even more. He had a way of acting like he was privy to a private joke and it got under my skin. “And what kind of girl might that be?” he inquired innocently.

  “I know what kind of reputation you have,” I shot back, balling my hands up into fists and planting them firmly on my hips.

  “Enlighten me, please.”

  Frustration was boiling up inside me. Maybe I didn’t have time to read gossip magazines anymore but I still saw their covers when I was standing in line at the grocery store. Gavin was a celebrity chef but that wasn’t what he was known best for. He was a Hollywood playboy, a love them and leave them type who went through money and women at an astounding rate.

  “I’m not an idiot.”

  “No, you’re not,” Gavin agreed. “But it seems I must be, because I have to admit I’m stumped. What kind of girl aren’t you?” His tone was as expressionless as his face, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. In fact, I couldn’t even be sure he was playing with me.

  I hated that I couldn’t read him…but that was probably what he was striving for, right? I knew men like Gavin. They always had to have the upper hand. It was so maddening.

  My eyes narrowed. Trust Gavin to play games, acting innocent when he and I both knew why he’d brought me back to a secluded room at his restaurant. Talk about nerve! Crossing my arms, I matter-of-factly informed him, “I wouldn’t sleep with you in a million years.”

  Surprise and then amusement played over his obnoxiously handsome features. “A million years, huh?” he replied, his tone giving no indication of how he felt or what he was thinking. He unlocked a closet then and opened it. “I didn’t bring you back here for sexual favors, although it’s quite telling that your mind immediately went there,” he informed me teasingly.

  I had no words.

  “These dresses are arranged according to size,” Gavin continued, gesturing to an assortment of colorful satin and lace numbers. “Take your pick, get changed and then report to the kitchen for assignment. You’ve got work to do and,” he added with a wink, “I don’t ever pay women for sex. Not even a woman as lovely as you.”

  I couldn’t tell whether the last sentence was meant to be tongue-in-cheek, so I didn’t say anything in response. Instead, I simply glared because it was easier to pretend to be livid than to admit I’d just made a complete and utter fool of myself.

  I stood there motionless as my face burned. It wasn’t until Gavin let himself out and shut the door behind him that I managed to pick my jaw up off the floor. I wanted to melt into the floor. What had I just done? Humiliation washed over me as I realized I’d just brazenly – and wrongly – accused my new boss of wanting to have sex with me for money.

  Ugh. I didn’t think the night could get any worse. But at least I got to play dress-up, I reasoned, trying to latch onto any shred of positivity I could. And the dresses were pretty. In fact, they were downright gorgeous. They were the sorts of exquisite garments one might expect to see on a red carpet.

  A few minutes later I’d swallowed my pride and steeled myself to get on with the night. After all I needed the money. And so, there I was tottering awkwardly to the kitchen in a pair of stilettos I’d found in the back of the closet.

  Back in the day, I’d worn similar shoes without a second thought. But that was before my pregnancy and the extra ten or fifteen pounds I’d never managed to shed. My weight had shifted, redistributing to my hips and breasts, and now tottering around in such high heels made me feel off balance.

  But damn, did they look good…

  So did the rest of my ensemble.

  The dress I’d chosen was a knee length fuchsia cocktail number with rhinestone embellishments at the shoulders. It had caught my eye immediately because it was the brightest and boldest of all the dresses in the closet. It was something I’d never buy for my
self because I had no place to wear such a thing…but I instantly knew it would be fun to play dress-up in it for one evening.

  When I saw the price tag on the dress, I knew there was a second reason I’d never buy it for myself! Holy shit, it cost a fortune! It also fit like a glove and I felt good in it, sexy and curvy and gorgeous. Instantly, it gave me a lift.

  I felt even better when I got to the large and immaculate kitchen and saw that Gavin was nowhere to be found. Thank God for small favors.

  A couple of leggy fake breasted servers nearly knocked me over as they strutted out of the kitchen with trays in hand and noses in the air. One of them ignored me completely, as though I didn’t even exist. The other one glared at me before pushing past me.

  I stared after them, too surprised to even yell anything snarky after them. I hadn’t encountered cattiness like that since high school, and back then it had been dressed in cheerleading uniforms, not cocktail gowns.

  “Don’t mind them,” a mousey young woman hunched over the sink advised as she finished scrubbing a pot and set it aside. “They’re bitches to everyone.” Her long dark blonde hair hung in her face almost like a shield. Her voice was so soft, youthful and angelic that it was almost comical to hear her say a swear word. It didn’t seem like the sort of thing that should be coming out of her mouth.

  She wore a navy blue floor length gown. It was modest but pretty. Even though she was dressed just like everyone else, she didn’t seem like she belonged in a place like Palate. It was hard to pinpoint why, exactly…she simply didn’t fit.

  Immediately an infuriatingly annoying song from my son’s favorite television program started playing in my head and I had to resist the urge to start humming. One day I was going to send a strongly-worded letter to the makers of kids’ shows everywhere informing them of just how irritating they were. Or at least I liked to fantasize about doing that any time the stupid yet catchy limericks infiltrated my brain and latched on like leeches.

  Instead of bursting into song, I extended my hand.

  “Hi, I’m Mina.”

  The young woman pushed her hair back from her face, giving me my first clear view of her. Her features were delicate and I saw she wore very little makeup. Her hazel eyes lit up when I introduced myself and then and she beamed.

  Such a simple thing seemed to transform her entire face, lighting her up. Maybe she wasn’t a knockout like the bitchy, busty servers who’d nearly mowed me down, but she really did have a beautiful smile.

  There was something about her demeanor that was sweet and unassuming. Immediately, I took a liking to her. It was difficult not to when I saw how pleased she was to meet me.

  “Mina!” she repeated triumphantly, as though she’d just solved a riddle. “I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen you on TV!” she exclaimed, genuinely excited. “Oh, you’re my favorite contestant on the show! I hope you win!”

  I returned her smile, flattered. I’d never expected to be recognized in Los Angeles, the city where virtually everyone is an aspiring star or wannabe celebrity. But it wasn’t the recognition that I appreciated so much as the kindness.

  Since most of my days were spent either in close proximity to a bunch of cutthroat contestants on the show who wanted me kicked off or with a boy who seemed like he might never outgrow the Terrible Twos, kindness was something I didn’t take for granted.

  “Thanks. And you are…?”

  “I’m Amanda!” she replied, drying her hands on a kitchen towel before enthusiastically shaking mine. “So are you here tonight as part of the show?” she asked in confusion, peering around shyly. “I don’t see any cameras?”

  “No, this isn’t for the show,” I replied quickly, noting her look of relief. “I was just low on funds. Being on the show full-time makes it tough to do much else…I guess that explains why most of the other contestants are rich college kids. Anyway, Gavin is helping me out by letting me work here tonight.”

  “That sounds like Gavin,” Amanda replied at once. The affection in her voice as she spoke of the man I’d grown to despise surprised me. “He might act like he doesn’t care but I’ve seen firsthand that he has the biggest heart around.” Then Amanda looked at me. “You forgot to cut the tag off your dress,” she informed me. “Here, let me get it for you.”

  “It’s not mine,” I said quickly, tucking the tag out of sight. “Gavin just loaned me the dress because I didn’t exactly have the right type of clothes on when I got here. I didn’t know Palate was such a fancy place that the staff even dress to the nines,” I explained sheepishly.

  “Gavin is big on creating ambiance,” Amanda explained. “He says if his employees look good they feel good. And if they feel good it comes across to customers. He’s all about creating the perfect dining experience…but I suppose you already know that from working with him on the show. I still can’t believe he’s a guest judge,” she giggled. “Oh, and the dress is yours.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Everyone gets a new outfit of their choice when they start working here. It’s a gift.”

  My eyes widened in disbelief at what I was hearing. It just sounded too good to be true…and so unlike the cocky, arrogant, self-centered Gavin Rothe I’d come to know and despise during my time in the cooking competition.

  “But the price of the dress I’m wearing…it’s more than I’d make in a month of working here!”

  “It’s more than you’ll make in one night,” Amanda corrected me gently. “But in a month? I’d say you could make that much in a week, depending on how things go. Crazier things have happened, and you haven’t seen what it’s like here on the weekend.”

  “Wow! But I’m just here for tonight,” I replied. “…I think.” I wasn’t totally clear on that part.

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Amanda told me, sounding genuinely disappointed. “That reminds me, we’d better get back to work. A VIP customer is bringing his entourage in tonight and it’s bound to be busy. You can shadow me until you get the hang of things.”

  Gratefully, I followed Amanda, thankful she’d taken me under her wing.

  The next couple of hours were a whirlwind of helping out wherever we were needed. I soon learned that unlike the other employees, Amanda had no precise job title. She typically worked behind the scenes in the kitchen, but would do whatever needed to be done.

  It also became apparent to me that she was fiercely loyal to Gavin Rothe. Either she knew a side of him I didn’t or she was a terrible judge of character. I would have liked to pick her brain on the matter, but there was no time. We were kept so busy that I didn’t have time to think let alone visit. Before long, everything blurred together.

  Then the VIP guest and his entourage arrived and the night became a whole new level of crazy.

  Chapter 03

  Something in the air changed.

  That was my first inkling that somebody very important was coming into the restaurant.

  First there was a hush that fell over the place. Conversations ceased completely and it got so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. I guess that’s what’s meant by that expression the calm before the storm, because a moment later the restaurant erupted into madness.

  “What’s going on out there?” I asked Amanda as she led me out of the kitchen and we scrambled to clear tables. She didn’t answer. She probably hadn’t heard me. The diners were becoming louder now. Some were whispering excitedly while a few looked annoyed, perhaps irritated by the abrupt and notable change in the atmosphere.

  The ambience Gavin apparently tried so hard to create was gone.

  I craned my neck to get a look but all I could see was the incessant flash of cameras as the paparazzi stood on the sidewalk in front of Palate’s windows. Blinking, I looked to Amanda for an explanation but she had already moved on to the next table, cutlery cart in tow. She appeared to be impressively focused on the task at hand, her brow furrowed in concentration and her tiny, dainty hands moving a mile a minute.

  That was
when we heard a crash in the kitchen.

  “Oh no,” she groaned as she looked back to where the sound had come from. “Mina, can you go see what happened? I’ll be in right away…I just have to get this finished first.”

  “Sure thing,” I replied.

  I made it about halfway to the kitchen before Gavin came storming into my path. His pace was so fast and purposeful that he nearly bowled me right over. Instead, he managed to stop short just before crashing into me.

  Instinctively, his hands grasped my bare shoulders, steadying me.

  “Sorry,” he apologized, his eyes locking with mine as though he was only just seeing me then. He didn’t seem to be flustered. He was as in control as ever – and presumably as cocky as ever. But he did seem overworked and preoccupied.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “One of my servers walked off the job,” he told me. “She picked the worst possible time for it.”

  “Is that what the crash I heard was?” I asked. Despite the sour taste Gavin Rothe left in my mouth, I felt a flash of sympathy for him. I couldn’t imagine how frustrated he must feel, but to his credit he was cool, calm and collected. Personal feelings aside, I knew I could learn a lot from him.

  He nodded, looking rather amused. “She threw a tray of drinks on the floor.”

  My eyes widened. “What? You mean on purpose? Why?”

  Gavin made a face, making it known to me that he had no interest in discussing the matter further. “It’s all under control,” he assured me. “But I need you to get a fresh tray of drinks from the kitchen right away. Take it into the VIP room and serve the guests.”

  “Okay…”

  “That’s the room I took you to when you first arrived here,” he reminded me just in case I’d forgotten. Of course, I hadn’t. A warm blush spread over me as I remembered the way I’d mistakenly accused him of wanting to sleep with me. But if he was thinking about the way I’d embarrassed myself he didn’t let on.

  “Okay,” I told him, squaring my shoulders. “I’m on it.”

  “Be careful in the kitchen,” he cautioned me. “I don’t want you slipping and getting hurt.”