A Husband for Melanie by Cheryl Wright

Author:Cheryl Wright [Wright, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Dinner. My place, tonight – 6pm?

Philippe hoped the smiley icon at the end of the email would win her over.

He’d just stood when his computer beeped.

Address?

She’d added a heart icon.

That was enough to force his heart to skip a beat.

He fist-pumped the air. “Yes!”

“You okay, Chef?” Adam stood in the doorway to Philippe’s office.

He pulled himself together and straightened his chef’s jacket. “Of course. Can I help you, Adam?”

“I hope so. I’m having an issue with the choux pastry.” His eyes were downcast.

Philippe sighed inwardly, but knew he shouldn’t – choux pastry was difficult. “Did you leave the heat on while adding the flour?”

Adam’s face drained of all color, and Philippe felt for him.

“Sorry, Chef. I turned off the heat after the butter and water began to simmer.”

It was a rookie problem, but Adam was still learning. Despite that, he was proving to be a star when it came to pastries.

“Bin it and start over. Follow the recipe carefully.” Philippe touched his apprentice’s shoulder. “You are here to learn, and will learn by your mistakes. You will be a master one day if you work hard – you might even be as good as Philippe!” He laughed at his own words.

The look on Adam’s face was reward enough for Philippe. What was a bit of food waste compared to the joy he’d just produced? It was nothing.

He turned the apprentice around and sent him back to his work station.

Philippe wandered about, looking over the shoulders of his sous-chef and kitchen hands, nodding his head in appreciation as he went. By the time he arrived at Adam’s work station, he was about to add the flour.

“Is this heat low enough, Chef?” he asked.

Philippe was thoughtful. “What do you think? You’ve done this before.”

Adam glanced at him, trying to gauge his opinion. “Yes, it’s the right temperature.” He began to slowly add the flour and beat it into the melted butter and water mixture.

“Perfection,” Philippe said, then went back to his office, leaving Adam to finish his task alone.

He sat at his computer and replied to Melanie’s question.

Pick you up at your office? We can go via your place if you want to change.

He added a cute little chef icon.

Philippe felt like a teenager pursuing his first crush. He hadn’t dated in years, if you could call this a date, and he was scared out of his mind.

There was so much at stake here, not the least Amelie and how this would affect her.

He sat at his desk and worked out his menu for dinner. Nothing too fancy, but not too plain either. If he started at the top of the ladder, there would be nothing more for him to aspire to.

He grimaced. He was thinking like a crazy man.

He grabbed the sheet of paper and screwed it up, then threw it in the recycle container. Slapping his forehead he realized Melanie wouldn’t be expecting something akin to what he’d serve at the inn. Would she?

He shook himself. Of course she wouldn’t.

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