"Naturally." I stand from where I've been sitting on a chair next to the chef's table. Tonight's guest was Asher Foster and his fiancée. He's an award winning musician who, apparently, tipped generously. I heard the servers whispering their excitement as soon as the table was cleared.
Chef Monroe had handled their entrees himself, taking time to prepare each with care and precision. He also spent the bulk of the time they were here, standing next to the table, explaining his unique creations in detail. It was a chef's special in every sense.
The smiles on their faces suggested they were both satisfied when they left. The smile on Tyler's face was less noticeable. I listened as he took their compliments with grace and gratitude.
"You're interesting, Cadence."
"Interesting?" I adjust the leg of my black dress pants. It's part of our required uniform even though temperatures in the kitchen soar when dinner service is at its peak. I've learned to adjust. I pull my hair up into a tight bun, I moisture everywhere every time I step out of the shower. I drink bottle after bottle of water and when my shift is done, I lock myself in my room and slip out of my clothes.
The window of my bedroom is almost always ajar. I love the fresh air even if it's soiled with exhaust and the aroma of the less-than-stellar restaurant down the block from my apartment. The cool breeze of the winter, the warm air of the fall and spring and even the suffocating humidity of the summer help to rid me of the heat that permeates me when I'm working in a professional kitchen next to a hot stove and a dozen warm bodies.
"You're interesting in a good way." He shrugs off his chef's jacket exposing a plain white t-shirt that is stretched across his broad chest. "Are you seeing anyone?"
I contemplate the question before I answer. This wasn't what I was expecting when he insisted I stay. He may have called me captivating but I've heard the whispered rumors of how he never gets involved with women who work for him. I thought he was going to touch on our dual television appearance. I opt for honesty as I look beyond him to the empty kitchen. "I'm not, Chef."
"Call me Tyler when we're alone."
"Tyler," I repeat back.
He steps closer. "I'm hosting a VIP event here on Friday night. We're closing early. I've invited a few friends, but it's mainly industry people. I'd like you to be here."
"To cook?" My fingers curl around the edge of the table.
"No." He holds my gaze. "I want you to come as a guest."
"Oh," I say without thinking, my mind moving at breakneck speed. "Is that why you asked if I'm seeing anyone?"
He drapes his jacket over the back of the chair next to me. When he looks at me again, his face is impassive. "No. I asked because I heard that you're the drop dead gorgeous blonde fucking Brendon Trevino."
CHAPTER 6
I was the blonde fucking Brendon Trevino. The drop dead gorgeous part is debatable but I'm flattered in a strange and uncomfortable way.
I expect Chef Monroe to drop the steely stare when I don't respond right away. I'm no judge of time when it feels like it's standing still, but I'm going to bet that at least thirty seconds have passed. I need to say something. "I was involved with Brendon for almost a year."
"You're her?" His eyes roam over my body. "You're the woman Brendon can't get enough of?"
That's accurate, I guess. Brendon Trevino's appetite for all things sexual is as insatiable as his hunger for fame. The man is a talented chef. He's actually the new executive chef at Axel NY, a restaurant owned by Hunter Reynolds. Hunter also holds a stake in Nova. It's a twisted web of familiarity that feels almost too intimate when I give it any thought. So I don't. I left my job at Axel shortly before I graduated from culinary school. When I interviewed here, the kitchen manager offered me a position on the spot.
"Brendon and I aren't together anymore," I say softly. "We broke up months ago. I don't even speak to him at this point."
"What happened between you two?"
It's not a question I'm prepared to answer. "It's complicated. I don't like talking about it."
I don't like talking to anyone about it, even Sophia. When I was with Brendon, I stayed at his place at least a few nights a week. He never slept at mine.
He'd often forget Sophia's name and when he was at our apartment, he was always uncomfortable around her. She once told me it was because she knew he wasn't the right guy for me.
I sensed the same thing which is why I never truly invested myself fully in the relationship. We had fun while it lasted. Brendon taught me a lot about food and about life.
"Cadence." Tyler's eyes volley from my face to the table and then back. "There's a lot of sensitive information in the kitchen. I don't want that shared with anyone, especially a competing chef."
Seriously? He thinks I'm a culinary spy?
It's hard not to take offense at Chef Monroe's comments. He doesn't know me though. It's natural that he'd wonder if I'm still involved with Brendon. "I understand your concern but I can assure you that I haven't spoken to Brendon in months. I don't think he's even aware that I'm working here."