Page 3 of Recipe for Romance

Exiting the freeway, Nicole made the turn towards the ritzy Bel-Air neighborhood where she was currently living with her father, wondering if she would forever be doomed to live with the one person who would never understand her. Eddie Malone was one of the hardest working and most demanding chefs turned reality star turned entrepreneur, who not only owned a slew of restaurants around the country but even had his own line of kitchen goods on shelves at every department store you could think of. He was beyond famous, and the payoff for all his hard work was a lavish lifestyle that Nicole felt privileged to be able to take advantage of, even if it never fit.

It hadn’t always been that way, but then again, it also hadn’t just been her and her dad. At one point, her father had also been one half of one of the happiest couples alive alongside her mother Audrey. They met like most couples in Los Angeles, at a party where the beautiful and well-connected rub elbows. Nicole’s mother had been doing some low-level modeling and, according to both of her parents, it was love at first sight. They were married two weeks later and Nicole was born not long after.

Once she had arrived, Nicole’s mom quit modeling to focus all of her time and attention on her daughter, something that ended up being more necessary than one might think. Nicole had always been a rambunctious child with too much energy and not enough focus, her mother regularly needing to chase her around grocery stores or anywhere else they might be to try and keep her in check. It had never bothered her mother, but had always been a bit of a sore spot between Nicole and her dad. When she was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder in fifth grade, her dad seemed to take that as confirmation that she would always be a disappointment to him.

No matter what Nicole accomplished or how hard she tried to do anything, it was never enough to get him to see past her shortcomings. To her dad, Nicole was too unfocused at school, too messy at home, and too chatty in general. The man had always had lofty expectations, telling her that she needed to buckle down and focus, something she always tried desperately to do but managed to fall short of. All of the things that seemed to be sticking points with her dad had been the same things her mother had celebrated her for, and just the reminder of that had Nicole missing her mother again dearly.

Even when she was younger and her mother was still alive, Nicole’s dad had a hard time connecting with her. Audrey Malone was just as hard working as her husband was, but where her dad poured all of his time and energy into his various businesses, her mother poured it all into her daughter and their home. Their old home, anyway. The estate her father lived in now was as impersonal as a house could get.

White walls and white marble were the standout features of the palatial estate. It made sense that it was so cold and uninviting because her father hardly ever spent time there, too busy to do anything besides crash for four hours in his bed at night before running the rat race all over again the next day. Having spent the last six years at USC, Nicole wasn’t sure if he had always been this absent from his home or if he’d been avoiding it more because of her presence there. If he would only fulfill his promise to her, then she could be out of his hair and off to fulfill the dream she’s had since childhood.

As hard a time as Nicole had on focusing, the one thing that had been in her sights for at least the last decade had been becoming a chef. So much of her formative years were spent watching her father cook, whether it was in person while she and her mom sat at the chef’s table in his restaurant or on television where she would watch him mentor one young person after another, always jealous that they were getting the expertise he had promised to pass down to her eventually.

Nicole had wrongly assumed that eventually would be after she graduated from high school, but her father demanded she travel and see everything the world had to offer. It wasn’t what she wanted, but getting to spend time moving about various countries while working odd jobs along the way was definitely a first world problem that she could handle. Instead of being upset, Nicole tried to be grateful for the opportunity and soak up as much about other cultures as she could.

When she returned home, Nicole thought that her culinary training would commence, but it didn’t. Her dad explained that she had to get knowledge of the business side of the service industry first, so she spent six years getting a degree in hospitality management. It was difficult and required a lot of focus, alotof tutoring, and a great deal of Nicole swallowing her bitterness toward her dad as she did the work.

She could have taken cooking classes or learned from someone else, but that’s not what she wanted. Nicole didn’t want to learn from just anybody. She wanted to learn from her dad. Food was the one thing he could relate to, and she knew that his acting as her mentor would help heal the rift that existed between them. It had always been there, but it seemed to have only gotten worse since her mother had been gone.

Nicole was ten when her mom had passed away from a rare form of lung cancer. The cancer had been very aggressive, something Nicole was thankful for and cursed in equal measure. Her mother’s suffering didn’t last long, but she hadn’t had enough time to say goodbye either. The real kicker was that her mom hadn’t smoked a day in her life. The whole thing was as baffling as it was enraging, but the worst part was that the one person who had always been in her corner, lauded her as a “free spirit” who had so much to give to the world, was gone. That being said, it was long past time that Nicole started fighting for herself and what she wanted.

As she turned up the driveway of her dad’s house, the white stucco practically blinding her as it reflected the midmorning sun right into her eyes, Nicole finished off her decaf iced latte. After one last fortifying breath, Nicole pulled her shoulders back to face the one person she found more intimidating than any other. Grabbing her purse and the bag of produce she had procured from the farmer’s market, Nicole made the short walk up to the house. The urge to knock or ring the doorbell at the still unfamiliar feeling house never faded with time. Brushing the knowledge that this would never feel like home to the side, she stepped through the door, determined to not walk back out until she got what she wanted.

“Dad?” she called. Saturdays were often the best time to catch him at home, and when she heard noise coming from the kitchen, Nicole smiled as she followed it. As she rounded the corner, her father’s bulky frame came into view. His arms were thick and his belly rotund, but it wasn’t the sheer size of him that she had a hard time facing. It was the semi-permanent look of disappointment in his eyes whenever he looked at Nicole that terrified her. “What are you making?”

Her dad barely peeked over his shoulder at her. “I was messing around with the idea of adding a sous vide halibut with lemon browned butter to the menu at one of my restaurants.” He turned and held up a forkful of the flaky fish for her to try. “Tell me what you think.”

Ignoring her lack of hunger, Nicole grabbed the fork and took the bite, enjoying the feel of the fish practically melting onto her tongue along with the rich butter as a bright burst of lemon finished it off. “It’s delicious,” she told her dad. “But you already knew that.”

He huffed a laugh and shrugged. “Guilty as charged.” He nodded to her grocery bag as he plated up the rest of the dish. “What do you have there?”

Nicole smiled at his providing her with the perfect segue into asking for what she wanted, what he’d promised so many times before. Pulling out bunches of celery, carrots, and onions, she tried to remember the speech she had given to herself in the car over and over again all morning.

“I was thinking that, since I’ve been out of school for a couple of months now, you could start teaching me how to cook. I went to the market and got everything we needed to make mirepoix, so maybe we could start by trying to improve my chopping skills.”

While taking classes in restaurant management, Nicole had managed to get a few jobs in some of the dining halls on campus. Of course, none of them lasted for very long for one simple reason: She was a horrible cook. Fumbling with cooking utensils as well as ingredients had been a regular occurrence for her, making her a kitchen manager’s nightmare. Whatever skills her dad possessed were definitely not passed down to her genetically, another reason she needed him to be her teacher.

Her dad ran a hand through his graying brown hair and sighed heavily. “I don’t think I have the time, Nicole.” Nicole opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a raised hand. “The next season ofGravy Trainis about to start airing, so I’ll be promoting that for the next few weeks, making appearances and doing interviews.”

Nicole tried not to pull a face. Not only did she abhor the name of the reality show he was a mentor chef on, hearing about it was just another reminder that he had time to teach strangers everything he knew, but not a moment to spare for his own daughter. That didn’t even count the number of men and women he’d mentored in his kitchens before that. The fact that she rated less than all those people had the traces of lemon on her tongue tasting even sourer.

“Then there’s the restaurants and the dishware line we’re trying a new color on. It’s just a really crazy time right now,” he emphasized.

Nicole looked at her dad, his brown eyes that matched her own barely able to hold contact and tried one last ditch effort plea. “Don’t you have an army of personal assistants and other people to do some of that? Or maybe I could help and then you would have time—”

Her father’s phone ringing cut her off. Looking far too grateful for the interruption, her father gave her an apologetic look, though not nearly apologetic enough for her liking. “I’ve been waiting for this call,” he told her, backing toward the patio door. “I have to take it.” He turned and walked out of the house before he even got a chance to see Nicole nod her agreement.

Desire to cook all but gone, Nicole abandoned the vegetables on the counter and walked back to her bedroom. Laying down on her bed, she let her mind wander, trying to conjure up a feasible solution to her problem. Maybe she should just give up and try to find some other job in a restaurant. Nicole wasn’t sure that doing anything in management would be lively enough to utilize all the manic energy she possessed most days, but she hadn’t ever really tried it either. If she did that, becoming a chef would just end up being another thing to add to the pile of abandoned projects she’d had over the years, only this one felt different. She needed to at leasttrybefore she let it go. If only she would be given the opportunity.

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