Page 27 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

I follow the driver inside and immediately scan the space.

She's been busy.

Even if this side were partially started like mine was when she moved in, she’s been doing a lot more work than I realized. And on her own, too. Unlike on my side, where Danny and his crew are constantly going in and out and it seems work is happening twenty-four-seven, over here, things have been relatively quiet. A few deliveries. Some construction workers here and there. Isabella must be taking on most of this herself.

It’s both impressive and a bit concerning. Opening a restaurant from scratch isn’t a small undertaking. I’m feeling overwhelmed even with a partner who offers me a basically open budget and endless support from essentially anyone I ask for it. I also have my Wednesday evening activities to help me destress from it all. Isabella is alone, and while it shouldn’t bother me so much, a strange ache forms in the center of my chest.

That only gets more intense as I take in what she’s already accomplished.

Tables and chairs…

Though they’re mismatched and appear like they were pulled out of dumpsters—not exactly the fine dining I'm going for—they actually don't look too bad in the space considering its industrial roots. They’re easy and welcoming, like something you’d find at a small café in the South. The style definitely fits Isabella’s more casual and laidback vibe. And while she doesn’t have any décor on the walls yet, I can already tell what she’s going for.

It’s smart, really. A relaxing space that will probably serve super approachable food to people who may not be one hundred percent on board with fine dining the way I plan to present it.

She may be more competition than I gave her credit for in the beginning. It makes my insistence to Grant that we didn’t have anything to worry about from her seem a little less true.

I wander after the delivery driver toward her kitchen, but an open notebook on one of the tables makes me pause.

Her to-do list. I shouldn’t read it. That’s intrusive and completely inappropriate, considering I’m her competitor.

But I do it anyway…

1.Get sign hung.

2.Hire at least two more servers.

3.Finish interior décor.

4.Schedule with the inspector.

5.Choose an opening date.

6.Line up vendors and place first orders.

7.Set employee schedules.

A grin spreads across my face at the final one, and I reach out and brush my finger over her delicate script and the knives with dripping blood she drew around it.

8. Kick Jameson Fury’s ass!!!

Three exclamation points. She must really mean it.

I'd like to see her try.

7

JAMESON

“And now we would like to welcome celebrity chef, Jameson Fury, who’s here to talk about his new restaurant that will be opening soon over in Bushwick.”

I plaster on my best panty-melting smile and offer it to Becky and Tim, the hosts of the Channel 7 news morning show. “Thanks so much for having me. I’m excited to be here to talk about my venture.”

Becky’s bright-blue eyes dance at me the same way they did when I banged her in the back of the studio after I appeared on the show following my win on Prime Chef a year ago. It's too bad the woman is vapid as hell because she was a decent lay. But I just can't imagine spending time that isn’t horizontal with somebody whose only talents are talking, reading off a teleprompter, and sucking cock.

It’s why I never pursued anything more with her after our fun the last time I visited with the show, and it seems she holds no ill will toward me over it. Something tells me she’d be willing to go for another round in the back when we’re done if I asked. But it’s another blonde who seems to occupy my thoughts lately…

One I certainly can’t be thinking about right now when I’m on live television. This is my time to talk up FURY and start the hype leading to opening.

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