“Yes, Chef.”
He chuckles. “Please call me Gabriel.”
I spare a glance toward Cal and mouth oh my God. His smile widens before he turns back to Cami, who is already dipping her fingers into the frosting bowl. She looks up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, only to break out into a smile when Cal swipes his finger against the side of the bowl too.
Those two are way too similar for my liking.
Liar.
Chef Gabriel starts rattling off steps while speaking about the ingredients he is using. I take in every single thing like a brand new baker who is learning how to properly crack an egg for the first time.
Together, Chef and I get to work on Cal’s birthday cake. It’s one thing to see Gabriel’s techniques on TV, but it is a whole other experience to witness someone as talented as him firsthand. Everything about him is incredible.
The way he turns granules of sugar into decorations that rival the best restaurants in Las Vegas.
His technique for glazing, which makes what happens on TV look amateur.
Him finding the balance between passion and perfectionism while he turns Cal’s birthday cake into a work of art.
“Fini.” He spins the cake tray in a circle, showing off his creation.
“Wow.” I take in Cal’s cake from all angles.
The skills Gabriel picked up during his twenty years of baking speak for themselves, and I itch to have even a fraction of his experience.
You could if you wanted to.
Instead of shoving away the thought like I usually do, I sit with it. A bit of the money from the house could pay for me to receive some formal training. It could help finance a few trips around the world so I can learn from chefs of all backgrounds, although those kinds of vacations would have to wait until Cami is out of school for the summer.
An idea starts forming. I could do anything I want to, so long as I am willing to take the risk.
“What do you think?” he asks, pulling me back from my thoughts.
“That my cake is going to look like it was made by a child compared to yours.”
He laughs to himself. “So long as it tastes good, who cares?”
“Says the man who just spent the last hour working on a single sugar art flower.”
He laughs to himself. “The chef I worked with in Las Vegas was a bit of a perfectionist.”
“You worked in Vegas? When?” I don’t remember that being part of his introduction on the show.
“Last year at the Dahlia.”
“The Dahlia?” I suck in a breath. That’s one of the most exclusive hotels in all of Vegas.
“Oui.”
“Where do you find the time? Don’t you have like ten restaurants to run and a million things to do?”
“When I was still a student, I told myself that once I made enough money, I would spend one month in a different city every year, learning about new techniques and skills to improve my craft.”
I lean forward on my elbows. “Wow. What inspired that?”
“Working for a stubborn chef who never wanted to branch out and experiment beyond what he was good at.”
I busy myself with clearing the counter of the all the dirty bowls and baking tools. “I always wanted to travel and eat my way around the world.”
His grin stretches across his face. “You need to. Some of the best experiences I had baking are from my time traveling.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. It brought the food I loved to life and taught me to appreciate the culture and people behind the recipes.” He clears the station to prepare for my tres leches layer cake, leaving me to consider what he said.
What would it be like to spend summers traveling the world, learning new recipes while exploring cities and cultures?
You could find out.
Maybe I will.
44
CAL
I spend the entire drive to Rowan’s house tapping my hand against my thigh to the beat of my racing heart. Lana spares me a few glances through the ride, but I keep my eyes focused elsewhere, not wanting to burden her with my thoughts.
I’m not worried about her.
I’m worried about how I will manage my family around her. My two brothers don’t mind embarrassing me and finding a way to mention my flaws on a continuous basis. It’s fucked up to think the worst of Rowan and Declan, but I’ve spent enough of my life dodging their jabs to expect anything less.
The drive to the house ends all too soon, forcing me to push aside my reeling thoughts.
Lana tugs on my elbow and stops me a few feet away from the front door. “Is everything okay?”
“It will be.” Once I have a drink or two.
Regret hits me instantly, making my stomach churn.
Her eyebrows draw together. “What’s wrong?”
“Just nervous about being around everyone.”
Lana doesn’t hesitate before speaking up. “We don’t need to go.”
I blink. “What?”
“If you don’t want to go, then don’t. We can take the cakes and sneak away before they even know we’re here.”
“Just like that?”
She snaps with a smile. “Yeah, just like that.”
“What about all the time you put into getting ready?”
She drags her eyes down my body, making my skin burn beneath my button-down. “I’m sure you’ll make it worth my while.”
My grin stretches to its limit.
The temptation to ditch my family and spend time with Lana is nearly impossible to dismiss.
Running has never solved any of your problems before.
As if my family sensed my urge to flee, Iris opens the front door and steps out on to the porch with Zahra on her heels.
Iris doesn’t even acknowledge me, her eyes immediately landing on Lana. My best friend doesn’t hesitate before throwing her arms around her.
“Hi?” Lana’s voice tips up.
Iris releases her. “Sorry. I’m just so excited to finally meet you and put a face to the name that Cal has spoken so much about.”
Lana’s cheeks flush. “Hopefully good things.”
“Please. As if Cal would ever say anything but the most flattering things about his Lana.”
My face turns red. “Iris.”
She tosses her braids over her shoulder with a smile. “I’m just teasing.”
“Oh, by all means, keep going. There is nothing I like more than seeing him get all flustered and embarrassed.” Lana winks at my best friend.
“Serves him right for what he puts everyone else through,” Iris quips.
You knew them getting together would be trouble.
And I love every second of it.
“We can exchange stories over dinner.” Iris locks elbows with Lana and drags her into the house. Zahra walks beside them, letting Cami talk her ear off about everything that happened yesterday at Dreamland while I follow behind them.
Something that smells slightly burnt catches my nose, and I trace the scent to the kitchen, where Declan fusses over the cloud of smoke coming out of the oven. He curses as he shuts the door and dumps the burnt lump of what looks to be bread in the trash.
He reaches over the sink and opens the window looking out on to the backyard.
“Need help?”