Page 22 of Julien (Confessions 2)

Priest cradled Robbie’s cheek and looked him directly in the eye. “You’re very smart, Robert Bianchi. And very sweet.”

Robbie put his hands on Priest’s chest and whispered, “He was hurting, Joel. I wanted to help him. I thought this might.”

The kiss Priest pressed against Robbie’s lips then was chaste compared to the one they’d just shared in the closet, and when he raised his head, he said, “I think you could be right. So, how about you go and find our Prick and cook us all a cheese soufflé?”

Chapter Six

CONFESSION

Sometimes the best memories made

are the ones you don’t even realize you’re making.

“UHH…SOMEHOW, I don’t think I would’ve gotten past round one of Chef Master with this effort,” Robbie said, and pouted as he looked at the deflated soufflé sitting in front of him.

For the past forty minutes, Julien had been watching over his young protégé and walking him through one of the most difficult recipes a chef could attempt. Back in his kitchen at JULIEN, he’d demonstrated the process to Robbie and had him help out along the way. But tonight, Julien had stepped back and let Robbie take the lead.

Julien bit down on the inside of his cheek as he examined the other two ramekins on the counter and said, “These two came out…better.” And it wasn’t a lie. They had risen slightly higher than the sad-looking one Robbie was staring at. But when Robbie glanced over at the two in front of Julien, they collapsed in on themselves on cue, as if they’d been waiting for his attention.

“Oh my God,” Robbie said, and then he quickly looked over at Priest, who had just taken a seat at the table. “I can’t serve him that.”

The horrified look on Robbie’s face had a sudden image of Jacquelyn’s the first time they’d made this dish with their mom flashing through Julien’s mind—Julien’s soufflé had risen and hers had spectacularly fallen.

“Yes, you can, princesse. He’s not going to care how it looks. It still tastes good.”

Robbie put a hand on his hip and angled his head at Julien as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“Excuse me? You, the Prick, did not just say that to me. You’re one of the pickiest bastards around when it comes to food. It has to look and taste good. That’s your motto in the kitchen and mine for life—in general. There’s no way I’m going to let him put this in his mouth.”

Julien gestured to the ceramic ramekin in front of Robbie. “Let’s get this on a plate with some pretty side dressings, oui? And then it will look good. Don’t be so hard on yourself, mon cher petit. A soufflé, while basic in its ingredients, is incredibly hard to master. There are chefs all around the world who are top in their field who can’t make one. In fact, one of my idols, Jacques Pepin, once said, ‘Simplicity is the hardest thing to achieve.’ That’s never more apparent than it is with the soufflé.”

Robbie sighed, and then looked back at the three dishes on the counter. “Did you get it the first time you made one?”

“Oui, I did.”

“Of course you did.”

“Of course,” Julien said. “But my sister? Hers was a disaster. Much worse than yours.”

“Gee, thanks.” Robbie frowned, making Julien chuckle, and suddenly he found himself wanting to share this with Robbie.

“One of hers exploded all over our mom’s oven.”

“Seriously?” Robbie said, as he put a couple of washed lettuce leaves on the plate.

“Oh yes. It was a mess.” Julien laughed, and allowed himself to enjoy the memory when Robbie’s lips tilted up into a smile.

“Let me guess: you never let her hear the end of it.”

Julien grinned as he added some cut tomato on top of the lettuce. “I may have been vocal in my superiority, oui.”

Robbie rolled his eyes and followed Julien’s plating to a tee. “Why am I not surprised?”

Julien wiped his hands on the dishtowel he’d stuffed in the side of his pants. “Because you’re my number one stalker?”

Robbie’s face flushed, but then he gave a flirty lift of his shoulder, unashamed. “It’s not my fault you’re super sexy. Be a little less…well, everything, and people might stop becoming obsessed with you.”

Oh, princesse, I’d never want that, Julien thought, as the sadness he’d been feeling earlier lifted, and he pressed a kiss to Robbie’s cheek. “I don’t want you to ever stop obsessing over me.”

Robbie turned his head and winked. “No sign of that happening.”

“Bien. You’re one of a kind, and now that we’ve found you, we’re not letting you go.” Robbie’s eyes sparkled and Julien tapped a finger to his nose. “Something you should also know? Jacquelyn’s soufflé may have exploded the first time around. But she practiced it for weeks after that, and on our fourteenth birthday, she perfected it and…”

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