Page 38 of Sensuous

She nods, still with her angry face on but her voice is back to being sweet. “I know. I don’t know how long I can keep this up. You better give me something to cook so I can focus on that or I’m going to blow our cover.”

“Okay. Let me think of something. What about beef wellington?”

Kat looks up at me with wide eyes. “Wow, you really do want to challenge me. Okay, I can do that. I wasn’t thinking of going full tilt with this, but I’ll take it, assuming we have a decent cut of beef in that refrigerator of yours.”

I hadn’t thought of that. We’ve done so little cooking on this show that I don’t know what I have for her to make a dish with.

Turning back to open the refrigerator, I see enough chicken to feed an army, some pork, what I think is veal, but no beef. Strange.

“No beef wellington today, I guess.”

Walking over to look into the refrigerator with me, she smiles. “Good. My beef wellington is never as good as I want it to be. What about something with chicken since you have an entire farm worth in here?”

Okay, what to have her make with all this chicken? I think back to a recipe I read a few weeks ago that I wanted to try at the restaurant. That could be good.

“How about bourbon pecan chicken?” I ask as I reach in to grab a pack of chicken.

Beside me, Kat shakes her head. “We don’t have any bourbon. The closest I can get is some wine. That we have.”

Frustrated, I think back to the last chicken recipe I remember wanting to make before that one. It’s not common, but it might work.

“Okay, chicken bourguignon.”

A look of confusion comes over her. “Chicken bourguignon? I’ve never made that, Alex.”

With a smile, I begin rooting around my station for the ingredients. “That makes two of us, but I wanted to try it, so now seems like as good a time as any.”

“I’ve made beef bourguignon, so how hard can this be?” she asks nervously.

As I search for olive oil, I whisper, “You got this. Don’t worry. I bet you’ve made much harder dishes.”

She nods and gives me a slight smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that. And you’re right. My head chef is a real winner, and she’s been riding me since I got that job, so if I can make something great with her breathing down my neck, I’m sure I can do this.”

Kat assembles the thyme and bay leaf she needs and turns to look over at me. “I should probably ask what I need for this dish, huh? I’m going on what I’d use for beef, but I’m sure this is different.”

With a smile, I nod and begin writing the recipe on a sheet of paper. When I finish, I hand it to her, and she scans it for a second before looking up at me.

“You memorized this entire recipe by heart?” she asks in amazement.

“I may not be able to act, but I have a great memory. With recipes, that is. Other things don’t seem to stick as well, but anything with food as soon as I read it, it’s in my head.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.”

She turns back to the refrigerator to look for the bacon and oranges necessary for the dish, and knowing there’s no one around, I whisper, “What do you say to coming over to my place tonight so I can impress you with something really great?”

I finish saying that and realize I may have just uttered the cheesiest pick-up line in the history of pick-up lines. Kat stares up at me like she thinks it was pretty damn cheesy too, so I quickly try to clear up the confusion.

“I meant I want to make you dinner. That’s what I meant when I said I wanted to impress you with something really great.”

Her cheeks turn bright red, but she smiles and says, “Okay. For what it’s worth, I wasn’t sure what you meant at first.”

“I figured by the way you were looking at me like I was some egotistical creep. How does seven sound?”

Kat nods and grabs the bacon from the middle shelf. “Sounds great! Now to get this chicken bourguignon started before people start to wonder if we’re even doing anything over here.”

As she works on the dish, I scan the room to see how everyone else seems to be doing. All looks pretty calm, although Kat’s friend doesn’t look so happy with Angus on the other side of the room.

Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, “What’s up with Emma? Is she sick today?”

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