Page 18 of After Midnight
I gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze and turned to the pass, scanning tickets. “Two scallops. One mushroom ravioli. One short rib,” I called out
“Got it, Chef,” came the replies.
A prep cook hovered by the pantry, looking uncertain. I caught it at once. “You need something?” I asked.
“Microgreens, Chef. I thought I had more.”
I pointed. “Top drawer in walk-in, left side. Next time, prep double.”
“Yes, Chef. Thank you.”
I watched the young man head off, then adjusted the garnish on a pass plate without a word. Behind me, someone dropped a ladle, it clanged on the floor. I bent, picked it up, and handed it off to be washed before moving on.
My head nodded slowly to the beat as jazz played quietly from the speaker tucked on the top shelf. Instrumentals, nothing too slow, just enough to balance out the rush of the kitchen and keep the energy steady.
I watched for a minute longer before stepping out the kitchen to check on the tables. Each table was full. My restaurant was one of the most popular in the Vegas. Even after seven years, I was still sometimes in disbelief at how well I was doing. I liked to think that it was Kendrix’s beautiful spirit blessing the space. She loved my cooking and never went a day without telling me.
I spoke to my customers; some I knew by names due to their frequent visits. I was talking to one of my favorite couples—theColfax’s. Mid 50’s. They had been married for thirty years and one of the first customers of Simmer & Soul when it opened.
The wife—Ms. Tami rested her hand softly on my forearm, looking up at me with those warm eyes. “How’s that baby boy of yours?” she smiled.
I returned the smile. “He’s doing good, Ms. Tami. Thank you for asking.”
“Bring him down to the bakery when you can, sweetheart. I got some cupcakes with his name on them.”
I was already about to decline at the sugary dessert when Ms. Tami gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “Relax. I know how you are. Its relatively healthy. I figured out a way to make it sweet without all that sugar. You inspired me.”
I smiled gently and placed his hand over hers. “We’ll stop by sometime this week.”
“Wonderful.”
“Let me send over a bottle of wine for you two. On the house,” I continued.
The husband—Mr. Gary—nodded with a smile. “Thank you, Remy. You’re a good man. A real good man.”
“Try to be.” I nodded. “I’ll have that sent right over.”
I stepped away from the table, waving over one of the servers and requesting a bottle of white wine for the couple. I was making my way back to the kitchen when I stopped in my tracks—
It washer.
My stomach instantly got butterflies. After that night at the club, I never dreamed I would see her again. And now…here she was. In my restaurant like a gift.
Or a sign.
I didn’t believe in coincidences. Our paths had crossed again, only this time, I was in my element, so I was prepared.I made my way back to the kitchen with a plan.
Everyone loved food. It was a shared language amongst all people. No matter the culture or creed, everyone could be unified with a great meal. And if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was prepare a great dish. She was already eating dinner, but a phenomenal dessert paired with a great glass of wine would round out her meal perfectly.
On the surface, she was relaxed but classy. A woman like that wanted to indulge in something rich and luscious. A dessert that tickled all her senses. I beckoned over one of my pastry chefs for support and smiled to myself as we got to work.
I started with a raspberry coulis base. Warm lemon olive oil cake, topped with a whipped mascarpone cream, lightly kissed with Madagascar vanilla. I built it slow, patient, layering each element with care.
“Chef, you want it plated modern or rustic?” the pastry chef asked.
I looked up. “Elegant. Like her.” I grabbed the wine pairing. A late-harvest Riesling from my personal collection. Light, floral, seductive without overpowering the senses. As I arranged the final sprig of fresh mint, I gave a short nod to one of the veteran servers. “Corner booth, yellow dress. Don’t say who it’s from. Just set it down and present it.”
The server smirked, catching the glint in my eye. “Yes, Chef.”
