Chef Page 7

  I'm sitting in my office when there's a knock at my door. I know it's Reid, and shout for him to come in, but I don't look up as he enters. To be honest, I would prefer not to see him right now. I'm too angry, and god knows what I will say. I make him wait for a minute while I pretend to carry on reading the papers on my desk. I can't read the words, but it gives me an extra minute to calm and be the professional I am. I raise my head and look him in the eye, but I don't ask him to sit. The fucker can stay standing. “Do you mind telling me what I just walked in on between you and Ms. Donald?”

  He doesn't speak, just looks at me. I raise my eyebrow, letting him know not to fuck with me. “Nothing, Casp, that was nothing.”

  “Don't bullshit me, Reid. That wasn't nothing. She jumped back out of your arms as though being caught doing something she shouldn't.” He doesn't say anything. He just looks at me, the cocky shit.

  “I will not tolerate any kind of intimate relationships while on my premises. Do you know there is a no fraternizing clause in your contract?”

  “No, to be honest, I didn't read it all. Guess I skipped over that part.”

  The fucker is sneering at me. Keep calm, Casp, don't let him rile you. You don't want a lawsuit against you, I tell myself in my head before I speak. I take a breath. “Well, there is, and I can fire either one or both of you. I caught you in a compromising position, so you can't bullshit me. How long have you two been together? Ms. Donald never mentioned knowing anyone that worked here in her interview?”

  He has his hands in his houndstooth trouser pockets, and he looks down as though he’s thinking what to say, before looking back at me. “We've known each other on and off. Just casual, you know? But if anyone has to go then it should be her. She's only been here a couple of days.”

  Well, fuck me, he's throwing her under the bus. That pisses me off even more. “She may have only been here a couple of days, but I can tell already that she is a far better chef than you. How many warnings are we on now, Reid? Four, isn't it? This will be your fifth. I should have let you go on your third warning, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Tell me why I shouldn't just fire your ass now? Give me one good reason to keep you around. You don't seem to have any regard or respect for the job?”

  He takes his hands out of his pockets and folds his arms across his chest defiantly. “Look, I'm sorry. It won't happen again, Casp. I promise you won't even know that Macen and I know each other. I promise to do my best with my meal prep and presentation. I have improved. I haven't had a warning for a couple of months now.”

  Now the fucker’s changed his attitude. Still doesn't excuse him trying to get Macen fired though. “Get back to your station, Reid. You've been away long enough. I’ll let you know my decision when I’ve spoken to Ms. Donald. Until then, keep your nose clean and work your ass off.”

  He doesn't say another word. He just turns and leaves.

  I need to go and see how the kitchen is going, but my head isn't in it. For the first time I can ever remember I’m distracted from my passion, and it's all because of Macen. My restaurant is my passion, my baby, my life, but right now I don't want to be here. I need to speak to her, but I can't right now.

  It’s 5 p.m. She’ll be leaving anytime now. I suppose it's now or never. I open my office door, head for the kitchen, and I just see her leaving through the back door. “Macen,” I call, but the door shuts. I walk towards it, expecting it to open again, but it doesn't. I open it and look outside, but she’s nowhere to been seen. I guess she didn't hear me call her. I’ll check what shift she’s on tomorrow, and I will speak to her about what happened today. I need to hear what she has to say — to see if she is trustworthy or if she’s going to bullshit me as well. I thought she was dependable; she's been honest about the menu and her recipes, but when her dream job is on the line who knows what she will say? Fuck, now I need a distraction for the night.

  Macen

  I'M SO RELIEVED to get home. I need to see Dixon for a cuddle. He's in bed, but I lay with him for a few minutes. Grandma has some good old mac ‘n' cheese on the table for me with a glass of wine. I'm hungry. I didn't eat all my lunch with Reid coming into the room.

  Grandma sits with me at the table with a glass of wine in hand like she always did when I was living with her. She tells me about Dixon and the drawings he did at preschool and how he helped a girl out because a boy was being mean to her. “How was your day at the restaurant?”

  I hesitate and inhale a breath. How do I tell her I'm not enjoying my dream job? I put my fork down, take a sip of my wine, and look at her. “I'm not enjoying it.” I hang my head in shame. It's the job I've always wanted, and I absolutely love being there.

  “What do you mean you're not enjoying it? You were full of beans over the last couple of days. What's changed, Macen?”

  I look up at her and sip my wine again. “Macen, what is it, love? What's happened? I know you, and I know there is something wrong.”

  I take another sip. “I love the job. I love learning, and I fit right in.” I look down again. “However, there's this one chef who works there, Reid, and he scares me.” I tell her all about the things he’s done to intimidate me, including blocking my exit from the employee room and watching me get in my cabs.

  “Do you know who he is?”

  I shake my head, no. “That's just it. I don't think I’ve ever seen him before. I certainly don't recognize him from anywhere. Maybe he has confused me with someone else? Maybe I look like someone he knows or knew?”

  I take another sip of my wine and tell her what happened when Caspian came into the room today. “Caspian was really annoyed with me. I hope I still have a job.”

  She takes my hand. “I’m sure you will, Macen.”

  “Do you think I need to tell Caspian about this Reid? The venom in his voice when he asked if I recognized him terrified me, Grandma. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up with fright. I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose my job just because one chef has taken a dislike to me.” I shrug my shoulders and hang my head.

  Grandma gets up and comes around to my side and hugs me to her. “I think you need to make Caspian aware of the situation. Don't throw this opportunity away because of one man. You have come so far and gone through so much to get here. You need to speak to Caspian tomorrow.”

  I know she's right. I give her a hug. “Thank you for always having my back no matter what. I’ll speak to Caspian tomorrow if he’s in, and I will avoid Reid as much as possible. I don't have anything to do with him in the kitchen, thankfully.” I clear the dishes away and head to bed. It's been a long day, and I'm shattered.

  I've been lying awake for what feels like hours. This Reid situation is really playing on my mind, and I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. I've been racking my brain trying to see if I can remember him at all, and I’ve just come up blank. I don't remember him from any of my schools or anywhere that I've worked. I’ll speak to Francoise about it if Caspian isn’t in. I need to let them know what’s going on.

  Caspian

  I KNOW I enjoy my celebrity chef persona, but even I have to have a vice. Usually, it's burying myself in women, but that seems to be off the table because all I can think of is fucking Macen, literally, so I decide the next option is to watch. I don’t care that voyeurism has a stigma attached to it. I love to watch, and I'm not talking about watching porn on the TV; I like to watch it live.

  Luckily, there's a very exclusive club I'm a member off on the Upper West side of Manhattan on W65th Street, called Arthur's. It's very private and exclusive — to become a member you have to be someone famous or have deep pockets. That way, not just anyone can join, and members don't risk it hitting the tabloids that they are a member, although, I don't give a shit. I'm young, free and single and can do what the fuck I like in my private time.

  The club has very strict rules: no cell phones allowed on the premises, and you have to produce a clean medical certificate regularly to prevent STI's from being passed on.r />
  Sexually, almost anything goes.

  There's a communal room for participants and a viewing area for the voyeurs like me, and private rooms, some with viewing areas.

  There are also fetish and bondage rooms for Dom's and Subs, but they don't do anything for me. I like watching vanilla sex, and I like some gadgets and toys, just nothing too heavy.

  With the day I've had today, walking in on Macen and Reid and then dealing with Reid, I need a distraction. I need to try to get Macen out of my head, but that's easier said than done. When I saw her leave Casper's, I was so fucking annoyed. I wanted to speak to her because I’m not in for the next few days. I'm flying to Vegas to look at a potential restaurant there. There is only Francoise that knows anything about this one.

  I enter the club and notice it's been refurbished since I was last here. It’s like a five-star hotel — very luxurious and very modern. I like it. It's more my style. I get a brandy from the bar, and I scope the place to see if there is anyone I know. I see a few familiar faces: some I've fucked and some I'd like to fuck. Macen flashes into my head at that thought. It's like I can't think of fucking anyone else, only her.

  As I wander around. I notice a few celebs. There's an arrogant young singer who has recently hit the big time and a female anchorwoman who is stunning. I wouldn't mind giving her a fuck at some point. Macen pops up in my head again, shit.

  I head up the long sweeping staircase to where the private rooms are allocated and enter a private room with a small voyeur gallery. There are three chairs, separated by a small table beside each one, complete with a box of tissues and a set of state of the art Bose headphones for listening in. The chairs are facing the wall of the room, which has one-way glass right along it for viewing. I pull the curtain across the entranceway, hoping no one else joins me. I like to be alone whenever possible while watching. I sit down, drink in hand, and see what's going on.

  There's a woman and a man. I can't make out her face. I can only see her side profile. She's on her knees on the bed facing the headboard. She has short black hair and is wearing a red lacy basque but nothing else. Him, I recognize. He's an English chat show host, with a number one rated show. He's very good. I thought he was happily married. Oh well, each to their own.

  He's standing completely naked, looking toward the glass. He can't see me, but he probably knows he has an audience. “You ready for this, Mol?” he asks the woman as he turns and heads for the bed. “Yes, Tommy. Please hurry, I've waited long enough, and I want you.” With that, he gets on the bed behind her. He runs his hands over her ass, squeezing and pinching, he then bends his head and bites each ass cheek. “Ohh, Tommy, please hurry.” “Shhh, Mol. I'm getting there. I'm going to make you cum so hard you will be screaming.”

  His hands wander around her front, where he grips her nipples. The basque is so tight that her tits are being squeezed out of the top. One hand slips back to her backside, where he runs a finger down the crack of her ass, then his hand disappears between her legs where it looks like he's finger fucking her. “Oh, Tommy, more, please more.” He nips and sucks her shoulder, his hand moving between her legs. She's gyrating on his hand up and down, round and round. “More!” she screams.

  He stops and shuffles backward away from her. “Don't stop here are you going, Tommy?” “Nowhere, Mol, just going to change position. I want to taste you. I want to stick my tongue inside you, and I want you to cum all over my face.” He turns and lays on his back, shuffling back up towards her. “Spread those legs wide for me, love,” he tells her. I can't take my eyes off them. I have my glass held as though going to take a sip, but it doesn't reach my lips. I'm hard as fuck watching these two. They are hot together — they have chemistry.

  He edges between her legs, then grabs her hips and lowers her pussy onto his face. She grabs hold of the iron rods on the headboard to steady herself as he slips his tongue inside her. He's pulling her down onto his face as hard as he can, trying to get in there deeper. She starts moving around and round, and I can hear the noises from how wet she is. These headphones are amazing — they pick up everything. She starts moaning for more, and he moves a hand from her hip and slips two fingers into her ass. She's getting louder and louder. She looks down to watch what he's doing and let's go of the headboard. She leans back with her hands on his torso, trying to find his cock. She grabs it with one hand and starts pulling. The more he sucks and penetrates her with his fingers and tongue, the louder she gets and the rougher she gets with his cock. She is close, very close.

  I don’t even realize I’ve put my drink on the table next to me until I'm yanking the zip down on my jeans and pulling out my cock. It's like fucking steel. I start pulling, replicating what she's doing to him, yanking hard, moving up and down. She's now practically jumping up and down on his face. He has fingers in her ass with the one hand and is rubbing her clit with the other, as well as his tongue in her pussy. That's it, she explodes; and gyrates harder and faster as she climaxes, screaming his name. “Tomeeeee, fuck, Tommy, fuck, Tommy.” I explode straight after watching her cum, but although I’m watching her, it's Macen’s face that I see as I close my eyes and let my cum spurt out. It's Macen I see gyrating and screaming with her tits hanging out and her pussy so fucking wet. I'm squeezing and milking my cock. It just won't stop with the images of Macen In my head. “Fuck,” I shout out, not realizing how loud I am. I finish off and then clean myself with the tissues.

  “Fuck, Mol, I love it when you cum all over my face, doll. Turn around, so you can suck my cock while I go for seconds.” She starts to turn so she can do as he asked and looks toward the mirror, licking her lips seductively as though she can see me. I wonder if she heard me shout out. She has a slight grin on her face as she moves her pussy back on his face, then, still looking into the mirror, she licks her lips again before lowering her mouth to his cock. She licks it like a popsicle, grabbing it by the base. She's putting on a show for me, and I'm fucking hard again already.

  He must have inserted his tongue into her pussy again because she gasps and starts gyrating on his face. Fuck, that's hot. She keeps pulling him out of her mouth and licking him, then putting him back in all the way. She grabs his balls and starts playing with them, and then her other hand disappears, and I know the moment she's stuck a finger in his ass because he starts bucking like a bronco. He has hold of her hips, pulling them down hard as she tries to gyrate. Her head is slightly turned towards the mirror, giving me a show at the same time, and it's fucking hot. He is close, she is close, and so am I. I'm yanking on my cock so hard, and I play with my balls with my other hand, replicating what she's doing. I'm about to explode. Just as I do, they both follow suit, and it's fucking amazing. I screw my eyes shut, pumping away to images of Macen again. Fucking, Macen, why can't I get her out of my head? I’m here to forget her, but it's just made it worse. I want her even more.

  “I fucking love you, Mol. Come here, baby. I'm going to fuck you so hard.” He pulls her wig off and it's then I realize this is his wife. She has long blonde hair under the wig. He lowers into her and starts to fuck her nice and slowly at first until they both become like rampant animals, going as hard as they can against each other. I clean myself up and head out, leaving them to it. As I pull back the curtain to leave the corridor, the anchorwoman I saw earlier passes me. She's holding the hand of the arrogant young singer, leading him to a room at the end of the hallway. I contemplate following to watch them. She's about fifteen years older than him, but I suppose a young kid like him he will take whatever is offered. I know I used to. If I go and watch them, I will still only see Macen, and I need to head back and pack.

  I leave the club and decide to walk back to my place. I need a breather and to try to think about what I'm going to do about Macen. This obsession is getting a bit much. I can't fuck anyone else, and even when I watch, all I see is her. I have to decide if I should fire her after what happened today or if I will keep her.

  Macen

  I'M ON THE day shif
t today. I said goodbye to Dixon and Grandma, and I’m currently on the subway to the restaurant. I have a very heavy heart this morning. Last night I couldn't sleep much, and I even thought about quitting, but then, why should I when I haven't done anything wrong? Why should I suffer yet again for a man I don’t even know?

  After my attack, I got so angry because I had to leave school and that wasn't my fault either. Life can be so cruel sometimes, but this time, I’m not quitting. If Caspian wants to fire me, then that's his decision to make.

  I have my ear pods in with Linkin Park's Hybrid Theory blaring away in my ears, so I don't hear the announcement for my station, and being lost in thought, I miss my stop. My day is officially shitty, and it's only just begun. I get off at the next stop and walk back towards the restaurant. It's early, but already busy. New York is always busy. I’m just minding my own business, listening to my music when the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, sending a chill down my spine. I stop suddenly and look around. He's there. He's behind me. Is he following me, or is this just his usual way to work? He looks me straight in the eyes as he carries on walking straight towards me. Shit, what do I do? Do I let him walk past me, so he is ahead of me, or do I turn and continue walking to work, ignoring him? I'm not waiting for him. I don't know him, and we certainly are not friends.

  I turn back and carry on walking to work but startle a few minutes later as he suddenly appears right at my side, touching my arm with his. I jump at the contact and take a pod out of my ear. “What the hell!” I say, annoyed. He doesn't speak, just looks down at me with a sneer. We're not that far from the restaurant now, and I don’t want to walk in with him, so I stop. He realizes and turns back to look at me. We just stare at each other. He doesn't speak, so neither do I. I turn and head for a pharmacy I just passed, and I don't look back, but I know he's watching me. What is his problem? Why can't he leave me alone? He’s freaking me out. If we were proper work colleagues, then he would have said good morning or something like that, and he certainly wouldn't have gotten into my space again.