Page 3 of Bred and Butter

Dane

Bourbon, Texas - Several weeks later

“It’s shit! Try again!” I bark at the nameless baker who’s made a disgraceful cinnamon ganache as another incompetent ogre drops a plate.

When I agreed to train these assholes, I had no idea the shit show I was signing up for. Dominic wants it done in three months, but on day one, I’m ready to fucking fire everyone.

“It’s not that bad, but maybe try less cinnamon in the next batch. Use the measuring cups until it becomes second nature.” The woman’s voice is soft and sweet, but she’s going behind my back, enabling the baker to whom I just gave solid advice. This kitchen won't stay open with weak employees. Anger rises in my gut, and I stomp to the back, where I still hear them talking.

I stop short when I realize the woman speaking is Veronica Ford. I’ve only met her once, but I’ve dreamed about her ever since. How could I not? She’s absolute perfection. Blonde hair in a neat bun sits at the nape of her neck, and those piercing gray eyes look right through me. Cut me quick and steal my words. I’m not a man used to being so disarmed by a woman. Part of me likes it. Loves the way she blushes when I look at her. My dick certainly takes notice of her. But the bigger part of me wants to keep her far away. Power like that is dangerous, and I don’t know her from Eve.

“Mr. Carmichael, I see you’ve already gotten started.”

I grin, unable to help myself. She’s trying hard to sound assertive, but her blush gives away her attraction to me. It's so fucking adorable and stronger than any aphrodisiac, making me grow hard in an instant.

“Yes, Chef,” I reply like a good boy. I’m rewarded by her Scarlett red cheeks. The blush roams down her neck, and I wish her dress whites weren’t so big so I could follow that trail. That makes me a pig, but the only thing I can think about is what she feels like inside.

She clears her throat, gaining my attention, and I realize I’ve been staring.

“Shall we then?” She motions to the kitchen and moves past me without another word.

“Good morning, everyone. Thank you all for being here and bringing your A game. I know with a lot of hard work and sacrifice; we’ll reach our goal to open this Fall.”

Everyone claps for her positive motivation. Hell, I would, too, if I wasn’t hiding my growing erection. I hate her sunny optimism, but I have to admit she’s creating a much friendlier atmosphere than I do barking orders. Just when I’m bringing myself around to her way of thinking, the idiot with the ganache bumps a bag of flour that shouldn’t have been on the counter in the first place. A huge cloud of white powder billows up like smoke and falls on virtually every countertop.

"Out.” My order is simple and direct as annoyance burns and the young girl bursts into tears. Ronnie comes over, protectively taking the girl under her arm and glaring at me. I roll my eyes in disagreement.

“Can everyone please get back to what they were doing? I’ll be back shortly.”

Dismissed, everyone scatters back to the recipes I’ve had them creating. The rest of the staff seem capable, but everything will fall apart if she keeps the girl. Call me an asshole, and you’d be right, but I’m the bar every up-and-coming Chef now holds themselves to.

I own a chain of successful restaurants and have more than proved my superiority. I’m successful because I’m ruthless and never shy away from someone's delicate feelings. In this competitive industry, you have to be tough, or you’ll be walked all over. That is exactly the reason Dominic called me to train the staff.

I respect that Ronnie is the head baker and can’t wait for her to boss me around, but she’s soft when she needs to be strict. I can tell by the look in the eyes of the only other man here. He thinks she’ll fail. He’s good, and I think he could be her second, but she needs to earn his respect.

Deciding to butt in where I’m not welcome, I head back to her office. Happy to find her alone, I close the door behind me. She looks up in surprise.

“I’m here for my punishment.”

The look in her eyes is deadly, but she plasters on a fake smile. Clearly mad at me but still playing nice. I hate it.

“I am honored to have you here, Chef Carmichael.”

“Dane, please.”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m sure whatever you can teach me will benefit the bakery, but can we show a bit of compassion, please? Her boyfriend of two years just broke up with her, and then she comes to work, and all you do is yell at her.”

“She’s terrible, and it’s not because of her breakup. If you coddle her, she’ll ruin you. This kitchen needs discipline, or you’ll never open it, definitely not in three short months. I hope you let her go.”

Ronnie looks at me with puppy dog eyes as if I scolded her. She didn’t fire the girl. She let her have the day off. Giving her time we don’t have.

“This is why I’m here. I’ll do it, but you have to let me.”

“I’ll agree to let you help on a lot of things, but Liberty stays.”

I nod reluctantly. I’m not the bad guy, and I need her trust. I remind myself that to better the kitchen, we need to get along and work together as efficiently as possible, which takes compromise.

As we walk back to the bustling kitchen of newbies, I devise a plan. I’ll push her. Find out her buttons so I can push them and make her express her anger and not play nice. If she takes it out on me, all the better. I want her, but my heart warns me I can’t handle her. Making Veronica hate me will be better for both of us. It’s definitely what’s best for this kitchen.

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