Page 13 of The Flirt

That was just my luck. Then again, it was quite all right because I was certain that I wouldn’t run into him very often, aside from these marketing meetings. After all, I was in the kitchen day in, day out, and he was on the third floor. Management schedules usually weren't compatible with those of chefs anyway. I officially started at ten in the morning and finished at nine in the evening from Monday to Friday. The restaurant offered brunch exclusively on the weekends, and another chef presided over that. I counted myself lucky that the shift ended at 9:00 p.m. The pastry chef stayed until 11:00 p.m. when the kitchen closed. After I left, patrons could only order dessert.

"He didn't give you any more details, huh?"

"No."

"Well, beats me," Joel said. "The previous chef was a bit tight-lipped." He grimaced. Maybe there was some bad blood there, but it wasn't my place to ask. "I'm sure Shauna, his assistant, will fill you in if necessary. She's really nice."

"Oh, good." I hadn't spoken to Shauna. So far, I only had Donald's email because he’d sent me copies of contracts and such.

"Where are you heading?" he asked me.

"Oh." I smiled sheepishly. "I was actually thinking about going to Café Du Monde."

"The first beignets since you arrived in the city?"

I laughed, securing my bag on my shoulder. "No, actually. I had some yesterday, but I want to test these ones. They must be famous for a reason.”

He winked at me. "Café Du Monde is good, but there are some other places in the city that serve up beignets that are just as good. Well, in my opinion, even better."

"You’ll have to share them with me."

"I will. Just be careful when you walk around the Quarter at nighttime, especially as the weekend approaches. Avoid Bourbon if you can."

"What? Nooo... I actually planned on checking out Bourbon Street just so I could experience it at night. I walked down Royal yesterday, and I wanted to see more of the city tonight."

He shook his head. "It can get a bit insane in the evenings."

"Then I'll check out Bourbon another time." Dang, that had burst my bubble, but I knew Joel was right.

Most of the kitchen staff was staying until closing time. I smiled at them, saying, "Good night. See you all tomorrow."

There was a chorus of "Bye, chef," and I could barely believe it.

I was a chef in New Orleans. And I had a sous-chef who liked me. I had worked in kitchens where sous-chefs tried to sabotage the chef in order to get their position and was so glad that wasn’t the case here. How did I get so lucky?

Then again, as Ariana would say, “You’ve had the shittiest luck. It’s about damn time you had good luck.”

I frowned, shaking my head. My best friend could be a bit of a grump. I wouldn't say I had the shittiest luck. I had just encountered difficulties on several levels. But I liked to think it all was a learning experience.

Once I’d left the restaurant, I had to give it to Joel—he was right about the busy streets. Even Royal was a bit insane right now. Yesterday, it had been far more relaxed. But then again, I’d been here in the afternoon. I was tempted to head over to Bourbon just to check if it was less crowded, then decided not to. Joel was a local. He knew what he was talking about, and I wasn't going to take any risks. But I couldn't wait to explore the French Quarter. I noticed a very cute little bar that was more of a hole-in-the-wall wedged between a shop selling tarot cards and one boasting to have “the best pralines in New Orleans.”

I could see I was going to be very busy. My free days would be filled to the brim with activities for the foreseeable future, especially my mornings. Tomorrow, I was going to go on a bus tour of the city. It was a super touristy thing, but then again, it was my first time here as an adult, so I wanted to check out the touristy things too. In general, my tastes were pretty simple—what was usually a crowd-pleaser pleased me as well. The one exception was in the kitchen. There, I had very specific requirements.

I ran my hand through my hair as I turned to go right onto Toulouse Street and then took a left onto Chartres Street. As much as I was loving NOLA, my hair was not. It was a mess, having turned curly and frizzy after only a few minutes outside.

I stopped in my tracks when I reached Jackson Square. I was going to bring my beignets and sit and watch the church and the goings-on. It looked so different now, late at night. I could swear there was even a little bit of fog surrounding it. That fog might look magical, but it was also the reason for my frizzy hair.

Unfortunately, there was also a sizable line at Café Du Monde. I wasn't expecting it at this hour. When I saw they were open 24/7, I’d thought it was a bit much, but clearly they had enough demand. As I stood in line, I searched for my earbuds. I put one in my left ear but left the other one in its case—I didn't like to be totally shut off from the world.

I was just about to set up my favorite Spotify playlist—with music from The Originals, of course, because it fit the mood so well—when a voice reached me.

"Hello again."

Even though I'd only met him today, I'd recognize his voice anywhere. I looked up, and yes, Chad LeBlanc stood in front of me. His eyes were vibrant blue. He was truly the sexiest man I'd ever seen.

And your boss, Scarlett. Remember that, okay?

"Hey!" I exclaimed a bit too enthusiastically.

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