Page 63 of Simmer Down
“I’ll have to thank Finn later for being so smitten with Grace that I got to steal his cooking gig.”
Despite the awkward moment we shared after Finn inadvertently gave away that Callum is most assuredly enjoying other women’s company in addition to mine, I jumped at the chance to help him cook dinner. I haven’t done a high-end dinner service since my Portland days, and I’m aching to dive back in. Plus, I have the day to myself since Mom is spending Easter with Mrs. Tokushige’s family. Now that Callum and I are focused on a mutual goal of salvaging a fancy holiday dinner, we’re distracted from our awkwardness. Even the car ride here was tension-free since we spent it planning tonight’s menu.
A tall, flustered pale guy who looks about thirty shuffles from the back, rounding the reception counter to meet us.
A relieved smile stretches across his face before he pulls Callum into a bear hug. “Thank fuck you’re here, mate. The guest chef I booked for tonight couldn’t make it because his flight was canceled. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t said yes.”
Callum ruffles Ted’s short-cropped brown hair. Ted softly punches his arm, and they exchange a laugh.
“Happy to help.” Callum gestures to me standing at his side. “This is Nikki, one of the most talented chefs on the island.”
Now I’m the focus of Ted’s relieved smile. He shakes my hand. “You know that’s quite a compliment coming from him, right? He never compliments anyone, not even his friends.”
I catch Callum’s eye roll. My heart thuds with giddiness. “Really?”
Ted narrows an eye at Callum, then turns back to me. “I’m officially jealous, but seeing as you’re saving my skin tonight, I’ll let it go.”
Ted huffs out a breath, pulling the lapels of his suit jacket.
I look at Ted. “Don’t worry. We planned the whole menu on our drive here.”
“Thank fuck.”
“Is that your new catchphrase?” Callum asks.
I swallow back a chuckle and follow Ted as he leads us across the lobby to the dining area. When we reach the kitchen, my jaw unhinges. It’s a stainless steel haven with shiny appliances everywhere I look. A trio of kitchen workers decked out in white jackets glide across the kitchen cleaning and prepping. Ted clears his throat, and they all look up.
“Sorry for all the chaos of this morning, everyone, but these two are here to save the day.” Ted gestures to us. “Callum and Nikki are two food truck rock stars from the west side of the island who have graciously offered to take over dinner service tonight. I have no doubt that they’ll serve up a brilliant meal for our guests.”
Callum and I shake hands with the staff and look in the fridges and walk-in to figure out what we have to work with for tonight.
“I know food bloggers are a notoriously critical bunch,” Ted says. “But I have faith in you.”
I whip my head back to Ted. “Did you say food bloggers?”
He nods. “Apparently, some big-shot Maui vlogger arranged tonight’s dinner as part of a social media retreat for a bunch of local food bloggers. Matteo something or other.”
I nearly fall into a nearby shelf, but Callum catches me by the arm before I topple the endless stacks of metal bowls.
“Wait, so... so every major food blogger in Maui is going to be dining here tonight?” I stammer.
Ted nods, an easy smile on his face.
That means every major food blogger is going to see Callum and me together, which will unleash a wave of gossip about us. If they see us cooking side by side after only ever seeing us fight before, they’regoing to jump to some pretty dramatic conclusions—and will certainly post about it online. It might lead to an uptick in business like before, but if the organizers of the Maui Food Festival catch wind of this—which they probably will if someone here publicizes it—they will likely assume we’re working together and disqualify us from the contest prize. No way in hell will I let that happen.
I hold up a hand to Ted. “One sec.”
I yank Callum’s arm, pulling him back into the hallway outside of the kitchen. The door swings shut, giving Callum and me a semblance of privacy.
I smack his arm, but it barely registers as a pat against his solid mass. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me we’d be cooking dinner for every foodie with an Instagram account in Maui?”
Callum holds his hands up. “I didn’t know. Finn didn’t mention it this morning when he told me about it. You were there, remember?”
We pause and take twin deep breaths. It’s only marginally soothing.
I wring my hands. “Remember how they recorded our arguments and posted them online? They’ll be chomping at the bit to upload a photo of us together tonight just so they can cook up some drama and get more hits to their blogs.”
“So?”
