Yes, Chef (Sizzle & Burn Book 1) Page 2

  “Is that supposed to make it better?” Vina asked before turning her attention to Snow. “Please tell me that you’re cutting him loose for good this time. That man is wasting your good years.”

  “You’re being too harsh,” April cut in before Snow could answer. “Charlie just needs a guiding hand.”

  “Are you serious?” Vina gave April a disbelieving look. “He’s twenty-seven. Not seven?”

  “Whatever!” April waved a dismissive hand at Vina before turning back to Snow. “You two have been together for twelve years and gone through worse stuff. Can’t you forgive him for this?”

  Snow shook her head. “No, this time I’m-”

  “Since when did my kitchen become Dear Abby?” A deep voice cut into her words.

  All three women spun around to face the kitchen’s new entrant. Snow’s heart bumped against her ribs when her gaze met that of Greyson Teller, Executive Chef and owner of Tellers. The air in the kitchen snapped with tension as all three women stiffened and straightened to their full heights like soldiers caught slacking off while on-duty.

  There was no doubt that Greyson was strikingly handsome. He had dirty blond hair long enough to need tying when he was in the kitchen, ocean blue eyes, and stood at a commanding and muscular six foot two. But it was hard to swoon over him when he was always so serious. Furthermore, those same attractive features turned spine-chillingly fierce when he was annoyed that all Snow could think of was how to keep from shaking in her boots.

  His piercing gaze swept over each of the three women before they settled on Snow. It almost felt like he was cutting her with his eyes as he asked, “You three know that we’re supposed to be serving lunch in three hours, right?”

  Even though he didn’t yell, the ice in his tone was enough to draw a rushed, “Yes, Chef,” from all three women.

  “Then why are you standing around like you have nothing to do?”

  “Sorry, Chef.” Snow and Vina turned back to their stations while April scrambled out of the kitchen.

  “Where are Oscar and Ed?” Greyson asked no one in particular.

  “Oscar’s out in the dining-room, and I think Ed’s in the break-room,” Snow said.

  “Go get them,” he ordered.

  “Yes, Chef.” Snow traded a sheepish look with Vina before skirting past Greyson to get out of the kitchen.

  After the heat in the kitchen, the dining-room’s spacious layout, cooler temperature and relaxed ambience were a welcome respite. The room’s large windows framed a view of Santa Barbara’s bustling streets, and its walls were wooden to match the color palette of the potted plants spread around the room.

  Snow swept past several square tables covered in white tablecloths to reach the table where Oscar was seated. A few servers and bussers were gathered around him, most of them holding money.

  “Snow!” Someone’s hushed whisper swept over the gathered staff. Immediately, bills were stuffed back into pockets or crunched within fists. A few made a hasty escape while others stayed curious to see whether she and Oscar would get into it.

  Ever bold, Oscar smiled at her as he tapped a wad of cash on his palm. “And here comes the bachelorette herself. Would you like to put money on yourself?”

  It took everything in her to keep from slapping his smug face and to say coolly, “Greyson wants to see you in the kitchen.”

  “Oh, shit!” Immediate panic flared in Oscar’s eyes and he scrambled off the table. “He’s in the kitchen?”

  Without answering, Snow started towards the stairs leaving Oscar and his minions scrambling towards their various duties.

  “Do you think Chef saw us?” “No. No, he couldn’t have. Otherwise we’d already be fired” “What if that’s what he’s calling Oscar for?” “Oscar, man, you’re in trouble.” Their panicked words were enough to make Snow smirk as she climbed the stairs and entered the break-room.

  The staff’s break-room was a roomy space with a large table flunked by two benches right in the middle. Several lockers lined the wall and two doors led into the ladies and men’s changing rooms. A white-haired, thickset man wearing the Tellers trademark black chef-coat was seated on one of the benches, with his head propped on his arms on the table.

  “Ed,” Snow called out as she edged further into the room. “Eddy.”

  When there was no response, she closed the space between them and stopped beside him. Immediately, the strong scent of alcohol sent her staggering a few steps backwards. Phew! Ed smelled like he’d bathed in vodka or at least used it as a deodorant.

  It should’ve been a surprise that he was reeking of alcohol at this time in the morning. Sadly, it wasn’t. Everyone knew that he had a problem with alcohol but no one ever said anything because frankly after going through all the bullshit he’d been through, Ed deserved a break.

  Snow would’ve said that Greyson kept Ed because of pity and a sense of obligation because the older man had given him a job when he stilled owned his own restaurant. But the truth was that even in the throes of an alcoholic stupor, Ed had never missed a day of work. Furthermore, the man could whip up a tiramisu that was so good it could tempt the gods from their perches above.

  “Ed, Eddy.” She shook his shoulders a couple of times. “Edward, wake up.”

  “What?” He came awake with a groan. Time had not been kind to Edward. Several wrinkles lined his tired face making him look much older than his fifty-years and his eyes were red, bleary and swollen.

  “It’s prep-time.” Snow strode to her locker and rummaged through it to come up with an medicine-bottle filled with painkillers and a bottle of half-drunk water. She set them on the table in front of him. “For your hangover.”

  “Thanks, girly.” Ed gave – or rather tried to give her a smile before he shook out two pills.

  Moments later, the two of them made their way to the kitchen to find that Greyson, Vina and Oscar had now been joined by Roman Teller, Greyson’s cousin and business partner.

  Though Greyson and Roman were about the same height, that was where the family resemblance ended. Roman was the black hair to Greyson’s blond. The gray eyes to Greyson’s blue. The cheery face to Greyson’s stoic demeanor. But just as devastatingly handsome. However, most of the ladies at Tellers ranked him higher on the attractiveness scale because he was a former pro-baseball player and had more money.

  As soon as Roman spotted Snow, his eyes lit up. “So Snow, is it true?”

  “Is what true?” Snow made her way to her station.

  Roman followed her. “Are you and Charming over?”

  “Roman!” Greyson barked before Snow could answer. Folding his arms over his muscular chest, he glared at his cousin. “Don’t you have a restaurant to manage or something?”

  “Later,” Roman replied flippantly before turning back to Snow. “So you’re single now, huh?”

  “Roman. Out.” Greyson’s tone was more forceful this time, enough to make everyone in the kitchen quake – everyone but Roman.

  Grinning, Roman backed away from Snow with his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

  As soon as Roman left, Greyson turned to Snow with his eyes narrowed in anger. “Keep your personal life out of my kitchen.”

  Immediate anger seared through her. She wanted to protest that she hadn’t brought up the topic of her break up. She wanted to tell him that she held no control over his gossipy staff. But he was her boss so she bit out, “Yes, Chef.”

  * * * * * *

  LUNCH SERVICE FLEW by in a whirlwind of organized activity. Tellers was like a well-oiled machine. Food moved out of the kitchen and to the dinners with head-spinning speed and the diners were full of compliments. Greyson would’ve loved to say that it was all him, but the truth was that he had the best staff his money could buy. Sure, sometimes they were lazy and arrogant, and sometimes they acted like high-school kids complete with the bickering, gossiping and forming cliques. But when push came to shove they always came through for him. He was definitely upping the
ir end-of-year bonuses.

  Things cooled down at around three allowing Greyson to take his first break of the day. Letting his staff deal with the last minute stragglers, he took a seat at a table on the far corner of the dining-room.

  “So what are you going to do about it?” Roman slipped into the seat across Greyson.

  Greyson arched his eyebrows. “What am I going to do about what?”

  “About her breakup?” Roman motioned with his eyes towards the kitchen’s open doorway.

  From his position, Greyson could see what – or rather who, his cousin was looking at. Snow. She was at her station, her expression intent and her attention fully on the scallops she was sautéing.

  Roman said, “Snow White and Prince Charming are no longer together. What are you going to do about it?”

  “How many times has she told you people to stop calling them that?” Greyson hedged even as his gaze remained locked on Snow.

  At this particular moment, no one would’ve called her sexy. She wore no make-up, her face was oily from being in the heat too long and several strands of her curly hair had messily escaped the control of her cap. To make matters worse, her chef-coat had several food stains, while the jeans and clog combo she wore beneath the chef coat did nothing for her voluptuous body. And yet every muscle in his body tightened with each second he stared at her, his heart began to knock in excitement and blood rushed from his head to his lower body.

  “You’re avoiding my question.” Roman cut into Greyson’s errant thoughts.

  “I’m not avoiding anything.” Greyson forced his gaze away from her and back to his cousin. He found Roman’s eyes dancing with laughter.

  “Yeah, right!” Roman let out a snort of disbelief.

  Greyson wasn’t surprised that his cousin didn’t believe him. To most people, Greyson was cool and unreadable. Roman was the exception. They’d been friends, cousins and brothers for too long not to know each other. If there was anyone who’d know Greyson’s type of woman, it would be Roman. And Snow was definitely his type.

  From the moment she’d stepped into Tellers three years ago, he’d been attracted to her. How could he not be? Her eyes were large and a deep brown that sucked one right into them. Her lips were lush and oh, so kissable. Her skin was a rich shade of cocoa brown, silky and so smooth that it begged a man to touch. The curves on her were enough to make a grown man cry. Then there were those dimples. Jesus! Whenever she smiled, Greyson’s heart stopped in its tracks.

  If it was only her looks that made her so attractive, he wouldn’t have been smitten. But when working with her, he’d discovered that she was bubbly, driven, competent and caring… everything he was looking for in a woman. It was too bad that she was spoken for.

  Roman set his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “This is your chance. Get in there while he’s still in her black-book and tattoo yourself on her. You know how she and Charming are. If you drag your feet while waiting for her to get over him, he’ll just worm his way back into her life and your window will close again.”

  Greyson watched Snow for a long moment before shaking his head. “Nah. It’s probably not a real break-up anyway.”

  Roman said, “How do you know it’s not a real break-up?”

  “Psh!” Greyson snorted. “This is Snow and Charlie.”

  The two were like a boomerang; they kept coming back to each other. Greyson had stopped counting at breakup number seven – and that was while she was working at Tellers. God only knew how many ‘breakups’ they truly had under their belt.

  “Maybe this time it’s real.” Roman shrugged. “And you won’t know how real it is until you throw your hat into the ring.”

  Greyson snatched another glance at Snow who was now plating the scallops she’d been cooking. “She’s probably not ready for a new relationship. I’ll just end up as her rebound.”

  “So what?” Roman countered. “Some of the best relationships start as rebounds. She can get over him while she’s with you.”

  “Name one relationship you know that started as a rebound?”

  “Mom and Dad’s,” Roman countered.

  Greyson’s lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “Aunt Patty stole your dad from her sister. I don’t think that counts as a rebound.”

  When they were younger, Greyson and Roman had always wondered why their aunt, Hannah, always got drunk during the holidays then conveniently ended up in Roman’s mother and father’s bed. Their questions always led to sharp looks traded between the older folks then swift slaps at the back of the head. They’d quickly learnt to mind their own business, and it was only once they were older that they’d unraveled the whole tangled story behind Aunt Hannah’s shenanigans.

  “Still, they just prove that there’s never a perfect time for a romance,” Roman retorted.

  Greyson chuckled. “I never knew you were such a romantic.”

  “I’m not.” Roman jabbed his finger at his cousin. “But you are.”

  “Me. No way!” Greyson protested.

  “You haven’t looked at another woman since sweet Snow White walked into your office.”

  “I’ve looked!” Greyson defended himself.

  His cousin responded with a derisive snort.

  Greyson watched Snow for another long moment. “I’m not her type anyway. She seems to like trust-fund, pretty-boys.”

  Everyone at Tellers knew that Snow came from a wealthy family. All you had to see was the car her stepmother drove. Greyson didn’t know why Snow lived like a regular girl but it was obvious by Charlie’s presence in her life that she hadn’t cut her ties to that world. Compared to her and Charming – sorry, Charlie – Greyson was the definition of a serf. His background was as poor and disadvantaged as they came, and everything he had he’d fought, clawed and dug up with only his two hands.

  “Are you waiting for me to reassure you that you’re a catch?” Roman asked, astutely picking up on his cousin’s insecurities. “Fine! You’re a catch.”

  Greyson shot him a sharp glare. “One of these days someone will staple your smart mouth shut!”

  “I’d like to see them try,” Roman retorted cheekily. “So are you going for her?”

  Greyson’s eyes wandered back in Snow’s direction. Maybe Roman was right. Maybe it was time to throw his hat in the proverbial ring. “On one condition?”

  “What condition!” Roman protested. “Hey, I’m doing you a favor by hooking you up with Snow. I don’t need to follow any conditions.”

  Greyson continued anyway, “I’ll make my move on Snow, if you do the same with her.” He looked past Roman to fix his gaze on April, who was standing by a table a few feet away chatting with the diners there.

  “Who?” Roman turned in his seat to follow Greyson’s gaze. When he saw April, his brow immediately creased. “My stalker? Why would I make a move on her?”

  “Because you’re into her.”

  “No, I’m not,” Roman huffed as he turned back to face Greyson.

  “Yeah, right!” Greyson mimicked his cousin’s earlier snort.

  It felt good to turn the tables on Roman. Sure, Roman always acted like April’s crush was one-sided and that it annoyed him, but it was all bullshit. Greyson knew Roman just as much as Roman knew him, and he was sure that if Roman truly believed that April was a stalker he would’ve swatted her away by now. The only reason he kept her within ‘stalking’ distance was because he had a thing for her.

  Smirking, Greyson repeated, “I’ll make a move on Snow, if you make a move on April.”

  Roman glared at Greyson for a long time before that glare was replaced by a mischievous twinkle. He pushed back his chair and stood. “Or… I could make a move on Snow. She’s my type and we could be-”

  Greyson’s hand shot out and grabbed Roman’s arm. “Sit your ass down.”

  Grinning, Roman settled back in his seat. “You’re too easy.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Being a Sunday, Tellers didn’t offer dinner so by four p.m. the sta
ff began leaving the restaurant. Any other day, Snow would’ve been happy for the early let-off. Today wasn’t one of those days. Whenever she was feeling down and frustrated, cooking was her go-to therapy. Nothing could beat Tellers’ high-pressure, forget-your-problems-and-just-cook atmosphere, and she needed it today more than any other day. With a sigh, she trudged up to the break-room.

  “Snow, there’s a reason Charming keeps breaking up with you,” Oscar said as they changed into their street clothes. His breath hitched as he bent to lace his sneakers. “You’re too headstrong, too ambitious, too independent.”

  “Am I now?” Snow coolly shrugged out of her chef-coat then slipped it onto a hanger. Though she looked calm on the outside, on the inside she was simmering with tightly restrained anger. The whole day she’d been bombarded with questions about her dating status and she was just about done. From how ‘concerned’ everyone was, you’d have thought that her love life was their favorite soap opera.

  “Mm hmm.” Oscar nodded. “Men like women who are more feminine, women who need them. Ask Ed.”

  “Don’t drag me into your nonsense,” Ed grumbled from his prone position across the bench.

  “Yeah, don’t get dragged in, Ed.” Vina who was unbuttoning her chef-coat laughed before asking Oscar, “Why do you assume Charming’s the one who broke up with her?”

  “Have you seen Charming? He’s tall, dark, handsome, rich…” Oscar guffawed. “What woman would break up with him?”

  His words were enough to snap the thin thread holding Snow’s temper. Swiveling to face him, she bit out, “If you love Charlie so much maybe you should date him yourself. I bet you can do feminine real well.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Oscar’s eyes flashed angrily. “Are you implying that I’m gay?”

  Snow simply rolled her eyes while Vina and Ed chuckled. Everyone knew what a raging homophobic Oscar was.

  “Take it back!” Oscar thundered.

  Snow offered him a satisfied smirk before turning to Vina. “I’m passing by the mall before I head home to get Elsie a bike. Wanna come?”