“Sorry, boss,” the sous chef mumbled while Felix scowled at the hunk of meat on the platter. Normally, this employee would be full of big-dick energy. But today, his apology simmered Felix’s blood to a low boil.
What he’d cooked tasted good, and he only hired the best to work in his kitchens. But what Felix pictured in his head hadn’t materialised in real life. Now his slow-cooked beef cube in horseradish looked like someone had taken a lump of grey meat, added some micro herbs and stabbed it with a wooden fork.
He could just picture Thea Fox’s face when she saw the miserable excuse for a canapé. The smirk on her lips. He sucked in a breath, then let it go with a huff and a wave of his hand. The chef picked up the platter and scuttled towards a team of waitstaff whose frowns matched his own.
Felix had everyone on edge the whole afternoon. Working out of a school cafeteria proved challenging. The set-up was more suited to sticky toffee pudding than the seared duck tartlets with dehydrated orange segments he would send out next.
The folks in the gym were already enjoying the first round of food. From the hum of chatter making its way through the doors, most of his hors d'oeuvres had impressed. Hopefully, Thea had risen to the challenge, and her matching wines would do the same.
After the incident with the geese, he’d avoided her. Resisted micro-managing her. Though he had sent a few more emails just to monitor things. She’d only responded to one but had assured him she had the “alcohol situation” under control. Her flippancy had driven him to demand an extra hard workout session with his trainer.
Felix clenched his teeth together and ran his hands over the cool of the stainless-steel countertop. Thea Fox had already reached superhero status in his house, with Lucas coming home with ridiculous tales of her exploits. His son described her as part David Attenborough, part Wonder Woman. He didn’t have a problem with the Wonder Woman comparison, but Sir David didn’t quite float his boat in the same way.
A beeping behind him announced a batch of tempura asparagus flowers was ready to come out of the fryer. He glared at the flushed kitchen hand who hovered over the basket. The young man flinched under his stare. The sweat on his brow and his hesitation had Felix mentally rolling his eyes. You’d think he’d asked the lad to plunge his hand in a tank of piranhas. Nobody made it in the hospitality industry without a bit of presence, a bit of ego.
“Well, lift them out!” Felix snapped. “And make sure you lay them straight on the plate. I mean ramrod straight.”
The lad fumbled with a dishcloth like a deer in headlights.
“Go!” Felix shouted, immediately regretting his tone. This wasn’t a sweatshop, and he wasn’tusuallythis grumpy.
“Temper, temper,” said a smooth voice across the kitchen. It’s soft lilt out of place with the clanking of pots and cutlery.
Felix turned to see Thea. She stood at the door, hands onhips, wearing the tiniest outfit imaginable. His heart skittered in his chest, but he fought the urge to grab an apron to cover her up. He had no right, but he didn’t want anyone else to see this much of her. Instead, her smile had him rooted to the spot. He ran a hand through his hair.
“Thea.” Any other words failed him. And why did he always sound like a schoolteacher addressing a naughty child?
She lifted her eyebrows. “I thought I’d come and pay you a visit. See how you’re faring. We haven’t seen you all evening. I wondered if you’d fallen into a vat of baked beans or if one of your staff had locked you in a cupboard.”
Felix chewed the inside of his mouth. He wouldn’t rise to her barbed comment and take her bait. Certainly not in front of his staff, anyway. He appraised his nemesis with an attempt at cool disregard. But as he raked his eyes over Thea, apparently Felix’s body didn’t follow the same rule book.
She wore elegant black heels. Far too high to be safe in a kitchen. He’d never seen her out of her muddy work boots, and the way the switch-up had him feeling was a little unexpected. He lifted his eyes slowly, skimming up her long, toned legs to where her tight black skirt stopped at her thighs. A stirring in his trousers kept his eyes firmly in place on their golden skin.
Thea cleared her throat. “I’m up here.”
With a quick intake of breath and a shake of his head to dislodge any lustful thoughts, he brought his eyes up but then got distracted by her top. It resembled a handkerchief, edged in lace, and strapped to her body with a couple of thin ribbons. Felix swallowed.
She looked incredible.
Closing his mouth, he finally made it to her face. Her skin wore a touch of blush, and mascara darkened her lashes, enhancing the azure blue of her eyes. Fine golden curls framed her face, skimming the top of her shoulders.
“I see you found a hairbrush then.” He’d had the thoughtmilliseconds before he spoke but didn’t have time to apply a filter. Thea’s brow creased, and her mouth dropped.
“Oh, God, sorry. I meant to say it’s nice to actually see your hair for a change.” He gripped his lip with his teeth. Dig yourself into an even deeper hole, why don’t you? “I mean, I could have sworn you were born with a scrunchie attached to the top of your head.”
Thea’s nostrils flared, and her mouth formed a line. Oh great. Things were going from bad to worse. Why couldn’t he just say something nice? Or, at the very least, uncontroversial? Felix Walsh, king of the business schmooze, was being a total dick. He resisted the temptation to lockhimselfin a cupboard just to escape the harsh gleam that burnt in her eyes.
“And to think I came to congratulate you.”
“I’m sorry. It’s been quite the afternoon. I haven’t led a team in a commercial kitchen for a while. And this?” He waved an arm around the room. “This is nothing like a commercial kitchen.”
Thea glanced around at the chaos on the countertops…at the stooped workers. “Your staff seem a little shellshocked. I hope you’re being nice to them, at least. The punters are enjoying whatever it is they’re bringing out.”
His ears pricked up. “You haven’t tried anything?”
Thea shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Guilty. This outfit leaves very little room for toasted rabbit hooves or whateverthatis,” she said, pointing to a tray of delicate tartlets. “No cheese?” she added with a smirk.
A hot burn filled Felix’s gullet. How dare she! He’d never serve toasted rabbit hooves! Wait, rabbits didn’t even have hooves. Damn this woman. Did she always have to mock him? About to serve her a piece of his mind, he looked up, jaw set tight, ready to unleash when her big blue eyes stopped him in his tracks.
