Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
I get a fifteen-minute break when the restaurant settles at eleven PM. Normally I’d call Nathan but I have a feeling he’ll be sleeping, so instead I call Sasha to check in. It’s been a few days since we talked properly. I know she’s definitely awake due to the fact she just updated her Facebook status two minutes ago.
“Hey, stranger,” she greets me immediately, her tone happy.
“I don’t have long; I’m on a break.” I sip my drink and check the time on my phone. “I have exactly six minutes left.”
“I’m honoured to be chosen.” She laughs a little. “How’s work?”
“I’m exhausted.”
“It’s only day two; you’ll get over it.”
“Gee,” I grin. “Thank you for the support.”
“You’re welcome. How is Nathan coping?”
“Better than I would be,” I admit, thinking of the handsome man with whom I’m spending my life. “I love him. He’s so good to me.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “Speaking of partners, I think Tommy is going to ask me to marry him.”
My jaw hits the floor. “You’re kidding?”
“No, he’s been all jittery recently and he keeps fiddling with something in his pocket.”
At that, I snort. “You’re sure he’s not just playing with himself?”
“Hardy, har.”
“We need you back inside,” Patience yells through the double doors. “Now!”
Sighing heavily, I stand. “I have to go.”
“I heard.”
“We’ll talk more about Tommy and his pocket fiddling tomorrow.”
“Love you, bitch.”
“Love you more, asshat.”
I hang up and rush inside from the cold. I was enjoying sitting. I’m so tired.
“Eat,” Kerim demands, sliding a peculiar-looking red dish in front of me. “It won’t poison you.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, not meeting his eyes as I spear a piece of aubergine with my fork and place it on my tongue. Oh my god. I can’t fight the groan. That’s so good.
“You like it?”
“It’s amazing.”
I spear a piece of lamb and onion and chew them slowly to savour every second. I didn’t realise how hungry I was.
Kerim cocks his head to the side as he watches me eat and I find it a little unnerving. “Finish it all. Have a coffee. I need you to stay until four.”
Blink. “But we close at midnight.”
“Yes,” is all he says before going back to his work. I stare after him, wondering why on earth I’m being forced to stay so late. I shan’t argue though, as tired as I am. I want to be here. I need to be here. Maybe this is a test to see if I have what it takes to make it in his kitchen. I sure hope I do. All I can do is try.
“Okay, Chef,” I mutter under my breath and finish my delicious food.
Midnight comes around and clean up begins. Mostly we have somebody designated to clean as we go along through the evening, but we all pitch in at the end of the day. It’s not until all the lights are off, apart from the dim white light above the central unit, and everybody has left that Kerim finally reappears from the staffroom.
“Come.” He beckons me to the large metal surface under the light. “Tonight I will teach you two things.”
“Okay.”
“One, how to chop with your eyes closed.”
My eyes widen involuntarily when he brings a long, flat blade to the table followed by a bucket of carrots, potatoes and leeks.
When he rounds the table and holds up a long, silver scarf, I immediately take a step back. My face is no doubt as panic stricken as my heart. Endless thoughts of him tying me up and mutilating me flit through my mind. I mean, how well do we really know this guy? For all we know, it could be humans he’s using instead of lamb. Do we even taste of lamb?
Why am I wondering what humans taste like?
The world goes black as the soft silver fabric tickles the bridge of my nose.
“You want me to wield a sharp knife without my eyesight?”
“Not immediately; I’ll aid you.”
I feel his chest against my back and my entire body tenses. I’ve never been in such close proximity with another human in the past two years, except for Nathan. I don’t like it. It makes me uncomfortable.
“Relax.” His hands cover mine and guide them to the knife and the potato. “I want you to learn the sizes our recipes require.”
“Without my eyesight?”
His laugh carries his breath through my ear. “This is how I learned and I learned quickly.”
“I’ll lose a finger.”
“No, you’ll be more careful because…”
“I have no sight,” I finish and blow out a breath. His hands shake mine loose and make quick work of sliding through the potato. “Carrots and such are easier as we have the slicer, but you still need to work the slicer and you still need to know the sizes.”
“Got it.”
“Chef,” he snaps.
“Sorry,” I mumble and he clears his throat, a persistent nudge to get me to finish the way he wants me to. “Chef. Sorry, Chef.”