“Hey, Violet.” I clear my throat. “Do me a favor and don’t mention to her that I called.”
She pauses on the line for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Thank you. Have a good night.”
“You too, Baseball Daddy.”
I huff out a small laugh, knowing she saw my name on the caller ID.
I hang up the line feeling as if it were last Sunday all over again. Like I’m starting from scratch in missing her. Only this time, I have the confirmation that she’s happy. That she’s off succeeding, doing bigger and better things than I could ever offer her here.
Chapter 38
Miller
“How’d it go?” Violet asks, following me around the bustling kitchen as I hustle to prepare for dinner service.
“It was fine. The same as all the other blog interviews have been this week. Fine.”
Stepping into the walk-in, I use the clipboard in my hand to take inventory of the fruit delivery Maven’s restaurant received today, making sure the kitchen has enough to get through until its next delivery on Wednesday.
“Okay, great,” Violet continues, stepping into the cold walk-in, head down, scrolling through her iPad. “Since the restaurant is closed tomorrow, I have another interview scheduled for tomorrow morning with this big-time blogger that goes by Pinch of Salt.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” I mentally inventory the shelves, counting crates of persimmons, pears, and figs. “I have my Food & Wine interview tomorrow afternoon, and I’m sure by now anyone who gives a shit is well aware that I’m back to work.”
“Miller, we’re capitalizing. Striking while the iron’s hot.”
“Well, I’d really like the iron to cool the fuck down so I can take a second to breathe. I haven’t had a single moment alone since I got to LA unless I’m showering or sleeping.”
“Yeah, about that.” Violet continues, nose down, looking over my schedule. “What do you think about taking some phone interviews while you’re showering? You know, really take advantage of every minute of the day.”
I turn on her. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Of course I am. Did you leave your sense of humor in Chicago?”
Sense of humor. Heart. Both are still there, I think.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll tell Pinch of Salt that it’ll be a quick chat on Tuesday instead. That’ll give you tomorrow morning off before your interview with Food & Wine.”
I nod. “I can do that.”
The walk-in door swings open to reveal Jenny, one of the two line cooks on desserts, holding a carton of raspberries in her hand. “Chef, we have a problem.”
The kitchen is chaos behind her, busy bodies moving to get set up for the dinner rush.
“The raspberries that were delivered today are sour. Real sour.”
I take one from the carton, holding it to my nose. She’s right, they’re far more sour than they are tart, but I pop it in my mouth to be sure.
Shit. They’re bad, and I have a white chocolate mousse with a raspberry crémeux on the menu for tonight, one that I’ve been designing for the last two days and prepping all afternoon, minus the hour I took to interview with yet another food blogger.
“All of them are like this?” I ask.
“All of them. Maybe we can swap a blackberry crémeux instead? Those were also delivered today but they look good.”
“No. It won’t have the right flavor profile.”
“Yes, Chef.” Jenny’s eyes refocus on her feet.
“That’s not a bad idea, though,” I quickly correct. “The blackberries are a bit too tart for that dish, but you’re thinking on your feet. I like that.”
Her lips slightly lift at the corners. “Thank you, Chef.”
My eyes dart to the box of pears that were also delivered today. They’re meant for the poached pear dish I have planned for Tuesday’s dinner service, but I can figure out the future later.
“Get rid of the raspberries. Tell Chef Maven that we’re pulling the mousse and swapping it for the poached pear dessert I planned for Tuesday. The pistachio soufflé stays. And would you mind going to the freezer and checking on the chocolate sorbet?”
“Yes, Chef.”
“And please make sure Chef Maven knows why we’re changing the menu. Your kitchen needs reliable suppliers and this one doesn’t seem to be one.”
“Of course, Chef.”
Violet and I follow her out of the walk-in and my agent stays right on my heels as I continue to organize my station.