Page 58 of Hers to Marry
Chapter 17
Kat moaned for the hundredth time, walking around her presentation and feeling more anxious when she couldn’t find another thing to change.
“Cut it out!” Susie said from the counter. “He’s going to be here any minute, and you look like a wreck. You still have your apron on, your curls have flour tips, and you look like you don’t belong in his world.”
Kat shot her a narrowed look. “Because if you look at my lack of resume, I don’t belong in his world.”
Susie put her hands on her hips. “If you’ve eaten your own food, I’d say you do belong there. And he’ll think so too if you act like it.” She cocked a brow at her. “What did Drew tell you about your fear?”
Not to give in to it.Kat knew as much, but that still didn’t automatically get rid of her anxiety. Presentation was everything to these celebrity chefs. If it didn’t look good, that meant the food tasted even worse.
She kept her newest creations on a separate plate as a last-minute desperate attempt to win him over if he thought everything else was too vanilla. He was well known for thinking outside the box when combining flavors and was half the reason why she became a baker in the first place. Although he mastered many cooking techniques, he’d once said sweets were his Achilles’ heel.
She had about twenty arrows to shoot. One of them had to hit.
Susie hugged her from behind and planted a kiss on Kat’s cheek before slapping the flour out of Kat’s hair. “Don’t worry. LeBleu is going to love you. No pressure, but I did talk you up as his greatest fan and inspiration. He already knows you haven’t gone to school. Told him you didn’t need to because you were a genius. A prodigy.”
“You didn’t!”
“She did.”
LeBleu stood at the door, bowler hat in hand, with a huge grin on his face. He was taller than Kat would’ve guessed, but he still sported his signature curly mustache reminiscent of the 1800s. He stuck his hand out, and Kat shook it vigorously.
“Mr. LeBleu.”
“Please, call me Pascal. Are these what I’ll be eating today?” He eyed Kat’s presentation and rushed over.
“Yes, I have a lot for you to taste. Please have a seat.” She pulled out the chair from one of the tables.
He rubbed his hands together and gestured for her to join him. “Please, please. Both of you. I can’t wait to eat. Everything smells amazing.”
After Susie and Kat sat down, he asked Kat to explain her creations to him, and one by one, he tasted them all. Moan after moan filled Kat’s ears as Pascal leaned back and placed his hand over his heart several times. He looked at Kat with disbelief, asking her several times to confirm that she indeed made these herself.
Susie did most of the talking as Kat found herself more and more tongue-tied as he lavished her with praise. Was Susie right? Was she a prodigy?
“Youmustcome to New York. I won’t take no for an answer.” He reached for the all-or-nothing plate of sweets she had created. “What are these?”
“My last-ditch efforts. I only made them last night, and the recipes haven’t been—”
“Oh!” LeBleu practically shouted around the cream in his mouth. “Uh,” he groaned, again dramatically portraying a fainting gesture. “This is simply incredible. Some of the flavors I wouldn’t have dreamed putting together. What is your inspiration?”
Kat shrugged. “Eating. Sweets always puts a smile on people’s faces and…” Images from her childhood flashed before her mind. Her father’s booming voice of disapproval, her mother’s tears, frustrated grimaces from her sisters. “And I didn’t smile much as a child, so I wanted to see smiles for the rest of my life.”
LeBleu’s eyes held sadness. “That is exactly the kind of story that will draw viewers to your show.”
Kat’s head snapped back. “My show?”
“Her show?” Susie said at the same time.
LeBleu nodded. “Of course. Did I not tell you? I’m looking for a new chef for the cooking show that will air here. It’ll take over Middle America. It’s why I thought you had contacted me.” He nodded to Susie.
Susie’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open with a shake of her head. “Uh, sure. Of course.”
“Mmm. Anyway,” LeBleu continued, “you must come to New York. Be my apprentice for about…” He nodded his head from side to side. “Six weeks. I think you’ll be a master in a few other areas by then. At least, enough to do the show. Then you can return and be on television.”
Kat sat speechless. Never had she anticipated this type of deal. Maybe that he’d feature a dessert of hers in one of his restaurants or on his Instagram page, but asix-weekapprenticeship? Her very own television show? She felt so undeserving and completely unqualified.
“Well?” LeBleu pressed. “Are you coming or not? I’ll need you there in two days.”
