Page 85 of Challenged By You
Anxiously, I enter the kitchen the morning Jonas’s review is supposed to be inCity Lights, both online and in print. God, this is being immortalized in a way it can never be taken back, isn’t it? My heart aches at the thought.
After not hearing from him all night, I’m terrified with what to expect. Surprisingly, it was my mother who said, “Trina, I’ve learned a lot from you in the last few weeks.” She nodded to my kids. “Look at everything you’ve done right, how hard you’ve worked to give your family so much more. I’m ashamed I took my feelings out on you all these years. Whether or not things work out with Jonas, I know you. You’re going to be all right.” Then she gave me an awkward hug.
Accepting we’re never going to have the mother/daughter relationship of the year but she’s trying, I patted her back before shrugging. “If it’s meant to be, it will be. It’s out of my hands now, Mom.”
“Trina, yours were the only hands it was in.” On that rare sage advice, Mom shuffled out of my kitchen, giving me a brief moment alone before I left to catch the subway.
Now, I’m greeted with silence. Knives are laid down next to cutting boards. Spoons clatter to the counter as Mia Palazzo storms out of the office carrying a stack of papers. The only sound I hear other than my heart pounding is the whir of the industrial mixers churning up today’s lunch bread as everyone stops what they’re doing.
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can apologize for ruining Seduction’s review, she begins speaking.
“A month ago, Chef Sterling privately contacted me about morale issues beginning to pop up in our New York restaurant, before Jonas Rice was witness to everything that occurred between Chef Spencer and Chef Paxton. She expressed her concern about whether we would be able to retain the talent here at Seduction New York. Then I received several phone calls that disturbed me. First, our review had been accidentally transposed with another restaurant. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t an enormous problem.City Lightswas more than willing to correct the mistake. However, when the food critic came to make a personal apology, he witnessed behavior we do not tolerate in our restaurants under any circumstances. Chef Spencer was terminated immediately. I felt at that point it necessary for a new review because there was a cloud over the old one. But how were we going to top it when our staff, our family, all of you, were in an emotional disarray? That night I reached out to Chef Paxton directly because she bore the brunt of Chef Spencer’s anger that day. It was an extremely enlightening phone call.” Her eyes blaze at me across the room. I flush beneath her direct stare as Chef Palazzo continues. “And despite her willingness to give Seduction a second chance, I asked Chef Sterling to keep a close eye out on morale. I’m glad I did.”
Chef Sterling steps up and begins speaking. “We were trying to regain not only our credibility with New York but with all of you. I had to ascertain if there was any behavior that might be a detriment to the restaurant. Every day, I was sending reports up to Portland about the staff and their outlook. And, to some extent, that includes your outside influences. It wasn’t meant to be an invasion of privacy but a pulse check.”
“It turns out some of you are merciless about refusing your own right to be happy,” With a smile at Sterling, Chef Palazzo continues. “Kind of reminds me of a few people I know.”
“You were such a peach, if memory serves,” Sterling drawls.
A bunch of us look confused, so I bravely speak up. “I’m sorry, but could you explain how all of this has anything to do with the review?”
“Absolutely, Chef Paxton, as it has everything to do with these.” Chef Palazzo holds the papers aloft. My stomach muscles clench in fear. “Last week I received a phone call from Jonas Rice. It turns out due to his heart being tied up with a certain dessert chef, he feared he would no longer be able to be impartial in our review. So, he proposed using ingredients that were known wide in the industry that he ‘abhorred.’ While it was hard for Chef Sterling to drop that bomb on our chefs, I knew they would prevail. After all”—I suck in a shocked breath over her admission—“Seduction has the best chefs at every station in this restaurant.”
I scrub my hands over my face as I recall the single bite Jonas ate before standing and walking out of the restaurant. “I don’t know about that anymore,” I mutter.
Chef Palazzo clears her throat. “It isn’t always a fair business we work in; good restaurants fail because of poor business management. Excellent chefs are overlooked because of where they work. For the Seduction Restaurant Group, I’m charged with the responsibility of overseeing all of you in multiple locations around the globe—something I take very seriously. So, please accept my apology to all of you for this necessary maneuver. I believe you’ll all be as pleased as I was at the results.” She begins to read the review Jonas wrote about the restaurant. As each team receives their much-due praise, they relax. But just as she’s about to read about the dessert review, Chef Palazzo makes her way to stand directly in front of me. “Here.” She holds out the folded paper. “I think you should read this part aloud.”
Terrified, but refusing to show it, I accept the paper from her. I clear my throat and lick my lips before speaking aloud what I know will be the death of Jonas and me, let alone my career here at Seduction. “I hate apples.”
My lips form the words he told me after we made love the first time. My fingers clench the edges of the paper even as my heart bottoms out. I clear my throat and begin again.
I hate apples, but somehow I should have known the incomparable dessert staff behind the scenes at Seduction would make me crave them with simply one bite.
I was astonished when a simply decorated white cake was wheeled to my table. While it may appear amateurish to those used to more elaborate decorating, don’t let yourself be fooled. Inside it was rich and luscious as if it was crafted by someone who understands what it means to transform ingredients into magic.
I can’t quite figure out what it was that made the cake so light and airy. Was it egg whites? Was it sorcery? I can still taste the notes of orange dusted over the apples which highlight them instead of the bite leaving an earthy taste to the surrounding cake.
This cake felt timeless—something I felt like I could eat at a restaurant year-round instead of seasonally. It will change your mind about every dessert you’ve ever had. It’s simply that delicious. After one bite, I had to stop otherwise I might have stormed the kitchen to demand the right to take the rest with me.
Overall, I’d give the restaurant four and three-quarter stars. I’ve said before, no matter what Seduction you’re in, you will have an extraordinary experience, but I’ll amend my statement to be if you are at Seduction New York, save room for dessert.
It’s exceptional.
"What? Did he not give us the quarter of a star for not dabbing his lips clean or something?” Elle snarks.
“No. I bet there were spots on his fork,” Baptiste chortles.
I don’t say a word as a raucous cheer goes up around the room. I hold Jonas’s words close to my chest. They may be the last words he says to me, but he judged everyone fairly.
It’s all I can hope for.
“I received a call from the paper this morning,” Chef Palazzo yells. Since she’s standing right in front of me, my eyes snap open. Hers are filled with compassion. Everyone around us is still celebrating. Putting two fingers between her lips, she whistles. Loudly. Silence once again descends on the kitchen. “I was just saying I received a call from the paper this morning. Some of you may be aware there was also supposed to be an exclusive interview about Chef Paxton.” There’s a sparkle in her blue eyes that can’t be suppressed. “I was asked to read ‘The Gossip Guy’ column today as well. Quite an intriguing article,” she announces.
“Why?” I say along with my confused coworkers.
“You’ll all do me the favor of listening to this as well.” Lifting the other part of the paper in front of her, a corner of her mouth hitches when she reads, “The Gossip Guy. There’s a bunch of information here about how to contact Julian Rice, but right below it, it indicates—in a nice-size print, I might add—guest byline attributed to Jonas Rice.”
Before she can start, I interrupt, “Jonas wrote this? You’re sure?”
