I might be in more trouble than I thought.
Chapter 3 – Pearl
The kitchen was my favorite place. Even on a space station in the middle of nothing but blackness and stars, I felt at home chopping and cooking. While the Baron gifted me with a luxurious room, I’d spent most nights on a small cot in the storage area, too uncomfortable to sleep anywhere else.
I wasn’t exactly worried about the competition. What I felt was more akin to excited anticipation with a dollop of worry. There might not be much on Earth that I didn’t know how to cook, but I had no idea what kind of alien varmint they might expect me to kill, butcher, and prepare.
According to Jala, each contestant could bring a few favorite cooking implements and spices along. I’d found a small black satchel in the storage room that now held my favorite knife, a few useful spices, and, of course, my salt crystals.
Hell, as much as aliens were taste deprived, I could probably win the competition just by adding salt to everything.
Still, I laid my tools out to consider one more time, almost laughing at the fact that I worried more over knives and salt than clothes. Although I’d probably taken more time than usual picking out my outfit for the day. Who knew what one needed to wear for an alien version of Iron Chef. In the end I went with the familiar. Drawstring pants and a long tunic in a soft fabric that wouldn’t hinder my movements.
“Is this correct, Chef Pearl?”
I glanced over to where Deema and Aqsa stood at the prep table, painstakingly trying to mimic the way I’d shown them tochop vegetables. I’d been trying to teach some of the harem girls to cook, and these two seemed to have a real affinity for it. I’d convinced Baron Oappo to allow Deema and Aqsa to work in the kitchen while I was away for the competition. If they followed the detailed recipes I left, hopefully, they’d impress the Baron, and I could get them out of the harem altogether.
“It’s perfect,” I said, noticing the way Deema’s face lit up. She was basically humanoid, except with pale white, nearly translucent skin and what looked like dark green jellyfish tentacles for hair. Aqsa was the more alien-looking of the two. While her face was mostly human, save for her small, pointed black-tipped nose, and quills like those of a hedgehog sufficed for hair, running the length of her back.
“Thank you, Chef Pearl,” Aqsa smiled, a flush creeping over her pale green skin.
They both jumped when the door swung open, and Jala sashayed into the room. Gorgeous as always, today she wore deep blue flowing robes that made her creamy pelt shimmer.
“Good day, human Pearl.” Jala carried the smile she gave me over to Deema and Aqsa. “And you too, ladies.”
“Hi, Jala.” I lifted a hand in a wave, smiling at the way the harem girls giggled and tittered at being addressed. I guess it didn’t take much to make you happy when your life revolved around screwing a slimy frog man.
Jala glanced at me, opening her mouth to speak, then frowned and shifted her gaze to my companions.
“Could you leave us, please?”
“Of course.” Deema bent in something that might have been a curtsy, followed by Aqsa before hurrying out of the kitchen.
Jala watched them leave, then sauntered over and flicked on the exhaust fan. I got the distinct impression she didn’t want our conversation overheard, and it worried me. I had yet to meetthe man she’d chosen as my protector. What if he was untoward in some way? A criminal... or maybe just an asshole.
“Are you ready for the competition?” Jala moved to stand beside me, her long, graceful fingers tracing indentions in the tabletop as she reviewed the contents of my satchel.
“Ready and raring to go.” This would be my greatest challenge as a chef, and honestly, I looked forward to it.
Jala watched me curiously. “I have arranged for a Vaktaire warrior to act as your protector.”
“Vaktaire,” I repeated. I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded strong... like ahighlander. My stomach shimmed with the most curious sense of excitement.
An indulgent smile curved her full tan lips, and she angled her head toward the door.
“Jutuk.”
I stilled, a tingle running along my spine as I watched the kitchen door swing open and...
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Him.
Where was my damn knife?
“My brother Jutuk is an honorable Vaktaire warrior. He will keep you safe.”
“Your brother?” I glared at Jala as the man walked to her side, grinning smugly.
