“Incredible, Chef,” Jeremy Painters, his sous chef, said, his eyes closing in ecstasy. “Another killer entrée for the menu.”
His night with Elizabeth had given him a fresh spark of creativity, inspiring him to try a few of the items he’d been thinking about adding to the new menu.
The rest of his staff hummed their appreciation as he shifted to the steaming hot venison on his other side. He’d chosen to grill it using only olive oil, sea salt, and pepper. The sauce would enhance the dish, and he’d settled on one made with wild cherries reminiscent of the Armenian cooking he’d sampled in Beirut. The addition of sage, hand-picked from the mountains surrounding Dare Valley, was yet another nod to Dare’s local flavor. A splash of bourbon whiskey from nearby Breckenridge roasted the cherries when it caught fire, adding yet another power punch to the taste buds.
“Yes,” he uttered in total rapture as he sampled it. Cooked to perfection, the meat melted in his mouth while the tart fruit blended beautifully with the exotic sage flavor.
He gestured to Jeremy to cut samples for everyone else, and moments later, they were all chewing and making happy sounds over his creations—just the way he liked it.
Now, he only needed to figure out what he wanted to do with the rabbit and concoct a vegetarian option. He’d already settled on a duck recipe, and it was crazy good. Mac claimed it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
Since Terrance was still building rapport with his staff, he decided to be magnanimous. “I’m willing to take ideas for the rabbit. If you have any, put them on my desk by the end of the week.”
Nothing said he had to implement their ideas, but who knew, he might be surprised. So far, he was slowly testing his sous chef and a few of the more seasoned chefs, having them suggest daily specials so he could evaluate their talent. He’d kept the restaurant’s original staff so far. He would let people go if needed, but not without giving them a chance to show him what they could do.
“Okay, people, let’s start prep for tonight,” he announced and nodded to Jeremy, who oversaw it for him. He would make his final check an hour before the restaurant opened for dinner.
As he left the kitchen and headed down the hall to his office, he thought about going home for a cat nap. He and Elizabeth had been up until dawn, talking and making love. His Turkish coffees would get him through, but he knew tonight was going to be a bitch.
As always, she’d both invigorated and exhausted him mentally, emotionally, and physically. And she was all he could think about.
His office held his favorite cookbooks, some even signed by the chefs who wrote them. There was one by Wolfgang Puck, one of his early favorites. He was an excellent example of how a chef could develop a multi-tiered business empire. Terrance admired what the Austrian chef had accomplished, and he was now adding the finishing touches to his own culinary empire.
The primetime TV show was a crucial part. His cookware and cooking products were just being launched, thanks to the investment he’d garnered in New York from Harwick & Taylor. Soon he’d have his face on specialty items co-branded with Mac’s hotel chain.
Life was good.
And now there was Elizabeth.
He missed her already, and because he could, he texted her.
Hey! Can’t wait to see you again. Tonight? I’ll bring by something I made today, and we can savor it together.
He almost wrote
like old times,
but reminded himself, these were new times. No need to dwell in the past. They hadn’t talked about getting together tonight after he’d made her breakfast—her favorite: French toast stuffed with maple cream and fresh strawberries. She’d straddled him in the chair, and they’d fed each other the rest of the meal before making love with her sitting on the edge of the table.
Hey back. When are you coming by? I’ll have the hot tub ready for you.
Now that was what he was talking about.
Can’t wait to see you wet—again.
It was a bad pun, even though he was referring to the shower, but he didn’t need to start sexting her. Even he wasn’t that stupid. He knew smart phones could be hacked, and wouldn’t Lane’s underwear get in a wad if he saw messages like that on the Internet?
You are so bad. I’ll see you tonight.
Yes, yes he was.
Bye.
He was in over his head again, but right now, he didn’t care. When she didn’t respond, he pocketed his phone and dialed up his work emails, scanning the ones from the hotel’s head of catering services. Alice Rollins wasn’t the most innovative person in the world or the easiest colleague. She’d told him the former chef hadn’t interfered with her menus, and Terrance had told her that was changing. She didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Her bitchy reply to his suggestions on changing the menu for the group from a Fortune Five Hundred company combining poker with executive strategy sessions was the last straw. All of the food served at The Grand should reflect the hotel’s standards. His.
Alice wasn’t going to play ball.
Worse, she was resisting his idea of offering their catering services commercially. Terrance thought there was business potential with Emmits Merriam University for some of their bigger, more notable events. Who wanted to eat a rubber chicken dinner at a gala? Not the president of the university and his august board of directors, he’d bet. He also thought it would be possible to cater high-level events in Denver to expand the reach of the hotel. Terrance knew he was in demand, and he wanted to cook for people who were willing to shell out big money to eat his food.
Closing out the email, he decided it was time to see his boss. Since he was pretty damn pleased with his new additions to the menu, he detoured to the kitchen to make up two plates first.
“And send up a plate of the chocolate truffles to Jill,” he told Jeremy as he finished plating the cherry sauce on the venison.
He’d sent Dr. Evil chocolate truffles yesterday, even though their dance lessons were finished and he was still making her lunch. He was feeling generous today. Jill loved chocolate the same way some women loved diamonds, and he laughed, wondering if that could be a funny addition to his TV show. How many women would choose diamonds over chocolate if they could only possess them for ten minutes? Hmm…something to think about.
Of course, that was assuming Lane Stick-Up-His-Ass Adams was going to release the show for production after the probation.
With the plates prepared to perfection, he set them on a teak tray and added a table service. Since Mac had beverages in his office, he wouldn’t need to bring them. He took the staff elevator and cruised to the executive wing. Abbie was coming out of her office, and she smiled immediately when she saw him.
“Hello, Terrance,” she said, eyes zeroing in on the tray he carried. “It’s probably too much to hope that you’re bringing me lunch.”
He winked at her. “I can have something sent up. Just call Jeremy and tell him what you’d like. I wanted Mac to try these new additions to the menu over some business. There’s more in the kitchen if you like venison and bison.”
Her hand rose to her neck. “Deer and buffalo? Ah, you know me. I’m not all that adventurous when it comes to the meat department. Chicken and fish are pretty much my go-to meats even though Rhett manages to persuade me to eat a hamburger or steak every once in a while.”
He remembered that about her. “I’m still deciding how to serve the chicken. It’s my least favorite meat, so it gets my attention last. Okay, and the vegetarian entrée.”
She laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me. I’ll let you get to Mac before your entrees grow cold. Good to see you.”
“You too, Abbie,” he told her and nodded to Casey when he came to the end of the hall. “Is he available?”
“For you? Always.”
He knocked on the door, and heard Mac call out, “Enter.”
When his boss caught sight of him, he rubbed his hands together. “Exactly what I needed. A break from some unpleasant folks. I sometimes hate being charming to assholes.”
“I know the feeling,” Terrance said. “Since I wanted to talk to you about something, I decided to bring you the two additions I’ve settled on for the new menu. I know you said you didn’t need to sample anything, but they’re too incredible not to share.”
“What are they?” Mac said, rising from his desk and gesturing to the seating area in the corner.
When he told him, his boss quickly unrolled the napkin from the silverware and got to business. After tasting the bison, he leaned back.
“My God man, I know I’ve told you this before, but you’ve got skills.”
“Wait until you try the venison,” Terrance added, enjoying his friend’s praise. Nothing made him happier than people appreciating and enjoying his creations.
The venison was enough to elicit a moan. “My God. That’s incredible. Too bad Rye missed these. He would have gone crazy.”
“He’ll be back,” he said in a horrible impersonation of Arnold Schwarzenegger.
“Stick to your day job, T. I think we have a couple of hits on our hands,” Mac said, gesturing to the plates.
“Yes, and I expect the critics are going to like them too. A few of the big ones are coming to The Grand to check out my new menu. We’ll have a Michelin star before you know it.”
“I never doubted it. Now, what did you want to talk to me about? Must be pretty serious for you to bring me food.”
Terrance crossed his arms. Nothing got past Mac. “I don’t think I need to butter you up for this. I want you to fire Alice.” And he proceeded to lay out his case.
As he spoke, Mac finished eating the samples he’d brought, but Terrance never doubted he had his friend’s full attention.
“Fine,” Mac said. “I’ll tell her. Abbie’s the sweetest woman on the planet, and she mentioned feeling some friction with Alice, so I suspected there might be a big problem between you two. If she’s not playing ball, then she’s not a team member at The Grand.”
Good. Part one was in his hands. “I also want her replacement to be in charge of the catering menus for all your other hotels. That way my brand of cooking flows down to all food served by or from your hotels. I don’t see any other way to make that happen. Right now, I can work with all the individual chefs on their menus, but I can’t do that on the catering side too.”
Mac fished out his lucky piece, a canary yellow poker chip, and rubbed it between his fingers. “You want complete control. Okay, I can see why, and I think it’s a good idea. I hadn’t thought it was possible before. Do you have anyone in mind to take over the position?”
The idea had been brewing for weeks, and after checking her credentials, he knew she could handle the scope and then some. Plus, they’d work great together.
“Natalie Hale,” he told him. “She has a successful catering business in Denver, as you know, with some A-list clients like the Denver Raiders. She already has a terrific way of bringing food together, something I can add to. The only problem is that I’m not sure if she’d be willing to consider coming here, but her family is here, so who knows? Maybe you could buy her business if she wants to keep it.”
Mac stroked his chin. “That way we’d get her A-list clients and expand The Grand’s catering services in Denver faster than we could on our own.”
“I think it’s the way to go.”
“And since I have a celebrity chef overseeing the menus…” Mac added.
“I’m almost finished with The Grand’s menu, and then I’m going to get started on finalizing the menus for the other hotels.” Though he would be overseeing the menu creation in all the Four Aces hotels, the other hotels already had head chefs. Kitchen egos were a delicate matter, so he was asking for input and treading lightly. For now.
“You’re going to be a busy man once the TV show starts,” Mac commented. “Is that TV guy being any less of a dick to you?”
Terrance kicked back in his chair. “He got all preachy with me about the dance pictures. Being bare-chested with other men means we were having an orgy or something.”
“You’re kidding me,” Mac shot back with a bark of laughter.
“No, but I promised you I could manage it all, and I will. Jeremy is a solid sous chef here, eager to learn. He’ll do fine when I’m gone.”
“Good to hear. Okay, talk to Natalie and find out what her conditions are. When I want something—or someone who works for me wants something—I do everything in my power to get it. Of course, we’ll have to advertise internally first and then go out as part of our standard policy.”
“I realize that. I was planning on asking Natalie if I could see her in action at her upcoming Denver Raiders event.”
“I like the idea. A lot of their players come to the hotel to play poker in the off season, and I want to keep them happy.”
Like he didn’t know that. “So I noticed from my research when you offered me this job.”
His boss’ mouth quirked. “That’s what I like about you. You’re more than a pretty cook.”
“Haha,” he responded.
“At least that’s what my wife said, seeing you shirtless and all.”
He doubted Peggy had ever referred to him as pretty. “She got an eyeful, and I can promise it will
never
be repeated.”
“You look tired,” his boss finally said with a grin, rising from his seat. “Looks like your date with Elizabeth went well.”
Mac usually wasn’t into prurient prodding, but apparently he hadn’t gotten his fill of teasing him.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” he said holding his hands up.
“Good idea. Rhett is feeling pretty awkward about you two. Don’t give him a reason to punch you.”
His friendship with Rhett was too important for him to let that happen. Plus, it would frighten Elizabeth—something he never wanted to do again. “I’d never dream of it. With those hands, he’d clock me good.”
Mac laughed. “I’ll call Alice now and give her a good severance. Can you handle June Ikado as the interim head of catering?”
He thought of Alice’s passive deputy. “We’ll manage. She won’t challenge me.” That’s why Alice had hired her, after all.
“Sounds like you might want another change there too,” Mac said, reading between the lines like usual. “We’ll leave that for Alice’s replacement. Thanks again for bringing up the food. It was a treat.”