Page 14 of Desirous

As I chop into the block of chocolate, Emma begins telling me about the last time she was on a show like this. “I did another reality show, and even though I didn’t win, I got a lot of great ideas from it. That’s where I came up with you making a soufflé, and since I love desserts, I figured why not make it chocolate?”

Even though I really prefer not to chatter away as I work, my curiosity gets the better of me and I ask, “Are you a pastry chef at the restaurant you work at?”

I glance over to see her shaking her head. “No, I’m an entremetier. I hope to be sous chef soon at my restaurant.”

So she’s in charge of soup, vegetable, and pasta dishes where she works. Odd that she wants me to make a dessert she likely couldn’t make any better than I can. Then again, maybe that’s the point. She does want to win the prize this time, I’massuming, so making me look inept would go a long way toward that.

I get the feeling she’d love me to ask where she works as an entremetier chef, but I don’t care enough to get into that conversation. All I want to do is make this soufflé and be done with it.

And her.

“So you’re a head chef? That’s impressive.”

Nodding, I finish chopping the semi-sweet chocolate and make sure I have exactly the eight ounces the recipe calls for. Next up are three large egg yolks and four large egg whites. I grab what I need from the refrigerator and get to work separating the yolks and the whites. This is yet another reason I don’t like making desserts. If it wasn’t for the fact that the end product tasted so damn good, there’d be nothing good about making the final course of any meal.

“You’re the head chef at CK, right?” Emma says as I busy myself with the egg work.

“Yep.”

“I’ve never been there. I hear wonderful things about it, though. Do you like your owners? Mine are a dream to work for. In fact, they’re the reason I went to culinary school.”

As I finish the last egg yolk and white separation, I push the two glass bowls off to the side and move toward the sink to wash my hands. Emma’s in my way, so for a moment we stand there pressed against one another before she finally steps back and lets me through.

“You didn’t say if you like your owners or not, so I’m thinking you don’t? That’s a shame. It makes the job much easier if you get along with the people who own where you work.”

I don’t really want to make a point of telling her that the owners of my restaurant are my father and uncle, but she seems intent on continuing this conversation, so while I dry off myhands, I say, “You know how family is. Sometimes you like them. Sometimes you don’t. But at the end of the day, you love them.”

“Your family owns CK? Oh, my God! You are so lucky! I wish my parents owned a restaurant. I’d definitely be the head chef there.”

I shoot her a nasty look, and she quickly adds, “Not that you got that job as head chef because of your family. I’m sure you’re talented. Still, it’s a nice perk, right?”

“Yeah.”

An hour later, the chocolate soufflé she had me make looks pretty much like every dessert I’ve ever created. It falls before she can get Jonathan to come over and inspect it as he seems to have to do for every contestant cooking today, so when he examines it, there’s clearly a look in his eyes that says he’s not impressed in the least.

“Keeping a soufflé from collapsing can be challenging. As long as it tastes good, that’s all that counts,” he says like he wants to make sure my feelings aren’t hurt.

Great. Now the game show host is pitying me.

“Okay, break!” Shane yells from the side of the set. “Be back in fifteen, everyone!”

I’m going to need at least fifteen minutes away from Emma and that goddamned soufflé to get in a better mood, but as I make a move toward the side door to escape for a little while, Maria calls me over to where she and Shane are standing looking distinctly unlike their usually happy and enthusiastic selves.

“What’s up?” I ask as I stop a few feet away from them.

Far more serious than I’ve ever seen them before, the two producers sigh in tandem like they’ve rehearsed this moment. It’s Shane who speaks first, and like his expression, he’s not happy.

“Alex, we wanted to remind you of your romantic storyline with Emma. So far, we haven’t seen much of anything concerning that today, and the cameras are rolling.”

I open my mouth to complain about her insisting I make a fucking soufflé but stop myself. Emma isn’t the issue. Either is the damn chocolate dessert that ending up falling and looking like shit.

The problem is I miss Kat and don’t want to pretend to care for Emma or anyone else.

So I force a smile and promise to do better for them and the cameras. That’s all it takes for them to be all happy once more.

By the time I get outside into the hot sun, all I can think of is texting Kat. For the umpteenth time, I tell her I’m sorry and want to talk to her to explain and send it off. Ten minutes later, my break is over, and she hasn’t texted back.

If only there was a way I could convince her. I swear I’m not going to have a moment’s happiness until I can.

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