Calla's Kitchen Page 2

  Adam's cheeks flush, and I conclude that the “boys” have been talking about me. Again.

  “Which one of you three said something? Don’t answer that! Let me guess...Wes.” I roll my eyes. “It went something like this, right? ‘It's been too long. She needs to get laid.’" My voice drops a few octaves to match Wes’s pitch.

  Laughter erupts from Adam’s throat. “You nailed it!” He grins and winks. “Seriously, we want you to take the night off. Honestly, I don’t care what you do, just do something fun. We’ll take care of everything. I’ll even call Nessa and see if she can help out in the kitchen if you want.”

  “Fine. But I do have a few things to get done here this morning. Also, I think I want us to have a meeting sometime in the next few days. Something needs to change.” I murmur the last few words, hoping Adam doesn’t hear.

  “Calla, we are willing to do whatever is needed to make you happy, and to get you out of the rut you’re in.”

  “Thank you.” My eyes start to sting, as I fight back the tears.

  I need to put in a few orders for the rest of the week and make sure the meat is fresh for the next two nights. But after hearing Adam say they have my back, and fighting off the tears, I am ready to turn tail and run. I hate disappointing my friends, and hopefully, soon-to-be business partners. Yes, Belladonna is my baby, but Adam, Forest, Trey, and Wes didn’t have to stay with me, nor did they have to join me when I’d told them two-and-a-half years ago what I wanted to do. They’d wanted in back then, but now I’m not holding up my end of the bargain.

  I could let Trey and Wes make the orders. They’ve done that before. But that feels like I’m giving up completely, and I can’t do that.

  Last night I'd decided I was actually going to listen to the guys and take the day off, but I want to talk to them about what to do with my time away from this place. I can’t even remember the last time I actually went out, not to mention, the last time I went on a date.

  My cheeks puff up before I let out a long, audible huff of air.

  Adam keeps up with my tension-laden pace as we walk through the drink station and into the kitchen. Trey and Wes are working on their opening duties as we prepare for the rest of the staff to arrive for their shifts.

  "Hey, Calla!" someone calls out from the far side of the kitchen.

  “Morning,” I respond out of habit.

  Two tall, well-toned bodies stop in the middle of the kitchen and move in the opposite direction from the rest of the staff.

  "Hey, cutie. What are you doing here?" Trey's deep, smooth voice filters over all the kitchen commotion.

  "Checking in." The words come out quick and without thought.

  "You could've just called." There is censure in his tone.

  "Yeah, yeah, I know. Can we talk in the office, please?" At my words, Wes side-steps toward me. “I did bring coffee and muffins.” I put the muffins down on a prep table on my way to our office.

  Adam follows my lead and sets the container of coffee down next to the bag I’d carried. With his hand now free, he reaches in the bag and pulls out one of the strawberry muffins I picked up for him.

  “Will one of you grab me a muffin?” Wes asks, as he walks toward the office.

  “No problem. Calla, how many did you bring?” Adam inquires.

  “There should be two for each of you.”

  A ripping sound comes from behind me. Glancing back, I see the bag is torn open, and the muffins lay strewn on the table.

  Trey and Adam follow me toward the far back corner of the kitchen next to the freezer. Wes already has the office door unlocked and propped open. He sits at his desk, waiting. As I enter, he stands.

  It still amazes me that we are able to fit our four desks comfortably in this space. It’s a minimalist space without frills. The desks all have sleek glass tops and adjustable legs, so we can either stand or sit. We each have a set of small file cabinets underneath, and laptops are sitting out on the desk tops. Well, all but mine, as my laptop is in the bag I have slung over my shoulder.

  “Hey, Wes? Coffee.” I hold out the cup holder that still has two large brown paper cups toward him.

  “Thanks, Calla.” Wes takes the one closest to him.

  As Trey moves to his desk, he grabs the last cup from the holder. I toss the cup-carrier in the trash before taking my seat. The room remains silent as I put my breakfast on my desk and remove my laptop from my bag. With everything set out on my desk, I take a sip of my chai and swivel to face my friends.

  “What’s up babe?” Wes asks around his cup.

  “I’m just going to make the orders for the weekend and Tuesday, then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Why didn’t you just do that from home?” Trey questions.

  “I wasn’t sure what all we needed. I was so tired last night, I forgot to check before I left. And I know I could’ve called, but you guys have been covering my ass for months. Doing the orders is the one thing I haven’t screwed up since Torrance.” Embarrassment, anger, and pain combine, causing me to look away from my friends.

  They’ve never judged me for what happened. Or for how I’ve coped, or not coped, with “the incident” no one speaks of. Though, all four of these guys, along with some of the other staff, did threaten to kick Torrance’s ass if he ever stepped foot in Belladonna again.

  “Calla, you were engaged to that son-of-a-bitch. The fact that you didn’t kill him that night is a miracle, so we can deal with how you’ve coped. Do we want our fun-loving, kick-ass, lead chef back? I’m not going to lie. We definitely do.” Trey smirks and takes a sip of his coffee.

  “Alright sweetie, what’s going on? Why are you feeling so blue today?” Adam asks.

  “This morning I tried to make breakfast again. And failed. Again. And I keep having the damn nightmare every night. Me walking in on Torrance and his mistress….”

  “Fuck! That son-of-a-bitch is still causing problems. You should’ve let me kick his ass,” Wes fumes.

  “That wouldn’t have accomplished anything. I needed you in the kitchen and not charged with assault.” I tear apart my muffin and stuff a piece in my mouth.

  “She has a point, Wes. We needed you here. I would have asked one of my brothers to do it, though. They fight for a living,” Trey reminds us, as he re-adjusts his stance to lean against his desk.

  “I know, and I appreciate that. But that’s not why I wanted to talk to you guys this morning. I’d like your help in revamping this place. Torrance had too much influence when we created it, so I want to make it strictly ours now, without any trace of him in here, whatsoever. Can you start writing down ideas for what you want to see changed? New menu ideas, uniforms... whatever you can think of. And when Forest gets back, let’s be sure to tell him about this. I’m sure he’ll want to change up the desserts. Maybe we can get Ella to make some suggestions, too. ”

  They make eye contact with each other, then with me.

  “Deal!” they announce at the same time.

  Chapter 3

  Wes

  Before Adam, Trey, and I left Calla alone in the office, we did a little brainstorming. I can’t believe she’s finally ready to make changes to Belladonna. It’s her baby. She’d talked about opening up a restaurant while we were in culinary school. Hell, she’d even mentioned it a few times while we were at UT in one of our nutrition classes.

  Never in my wildest dreams did I think she’d go through with it. But here we are, working together and running the restaurant she’s always wanted. Granted, only a few people know my family helped put up the money to open Belladonna, or that I am practically a silent partner.

  What would she say if she knew? Hell, what would Trey or Adam say?

  Not that I really care what they’d say. I’m invested and will remain invested. Not only in Belladonna, but in Calla too. I’m still not sure how or why I let Torrance take her out on that first date years ago. Now I’ve seen my best girl broken by someone who once was a good friend. But that friendship ended
long before the night Calla found him in bed with another woman. It had ended in college, when I found him kissing another girl at a frat party one drunken night. Kissing another girl while he was with Calla. Even our frat brothers had been pissed at Torrance after that. They’d all loved Calla like a sister. Some had known her older brother, Ben, when he’d been at UT three years before.

  In fact, my older brothers are still friends with Ben. I’d become friends with Ben my first year at UT. That’s how I met Calla. Like my brothers, Sam and Noah, Ben was still at UT when Calla and I started our freshman year. That was almost fifteen years ago. How things have changed since then.

  Especially considering what Ben asked me to do a few weeks back. ‘Get her back to normal but don’t touch her.’ Doesn’t Ben realize all I want to do is touch Calla? This is such a fucked up situation.

  “Dude, where are you right now?” Trey snaps his fingers in front of my face.

  “What do you mean?” I counter.

  “We’ve said your name about six times.” Adam narrows his eyes in that probing way he has when he’s trying to figure out a dilemma. “Why haven’t you ever asked her?”

  I blink.

  “What the fuck?! Keep your voice down, man. She’ll hear you! And you know the answer.”

  “We know what you think the answer is, but it’s not….” Trey starts but is interrupted.

  “Y’all, what are the specials going to be tonight?” Nick, one of the line cooks, breaks in.

  “Give us a minute, and we’ll get the specials figured out,” Trey answers. “I forgot all about those.”

  Nick nods and walks off.

  “Wes, stop fooling around man,” Trey continues. “Don’t push this onto Ben. You’re already like a brother to him, so man-up.”

  I run a hand through my hair. “Let’s talk about this later. Besides, you were at Brewtorium when Ben told me not to fuck his sister.”

  Adam and Trey agree, and the three of us head over to the prep table. I pull out my notepad, as does Trey, and we begin to work out the dinner specials. Adam comes up with a few drink specials as Trey and I create the menu.

  “Nick, we have the specials now,” I call out.

  Nick bustles over with the rest of the kitchen staff, bringing with him the two whiteboards that the specials are written on every day. Once we have the menu in place, the rest of the staff get to work prepping for the dinner crowd.

  I head toward the pastry station. With Forest on vacation, I get to flex my rarely used skills tonight. It’s time to put them to work. Ever since Calla mentioned making some changes, ideas have been flying around in my head. This is the perfect time to try some of them out. I can spend the time I need away from the main kitchen area unless Trey calls for me. I comb through the ingredients and pull out everything I can think of. But there’s one ingredient I’ll need from Adam.

  “Any music requests?” Trey calls out.

  “Sex. I need something that makes you think about sex,” I respond, pulling my cell phone out of my back pocket.

  Adam is going to give me shit for this next move. Unlocking the phone, I press the number four and hold it until the call connects.

  “Seriously?! You’re in the next room. Why the fuck are you calling me?” Adam answers.

  “Do we have any bottles of whiskey that are almost empty? Say... a quarter, or less, of the bottle?”

  “I think so. Why?” Adam asks.

  Trey steps into my line of sight.

  “Ever since Calla talked about making changes, I’ve been thinking up some new dessert recipes. I want to try two of them out right now. The whiskey is for the recipes,” I explain on a huff.

  “I’ll be right there.” The line goes dead.

  I take the phone from my ear and look at the screen before sliding the device back in my pocket.

  “What are you thinking?” Trey shifts on his feet, glancing around the kitchen.

  “I want to try a chocolate whiskey sauce and a caramel whiskey sauce, to start. What do you think of mini apple pies with the caramel whiskey sauce drizzled over the tops? And what about putting the chocolate whiskey sauce in the center of a chocolate lava cake or soufflé?” I separate the ingredients out on the table as I speak.

  “I like where you’re going with this. Take all the time you need. We’ll add the desserts to the specials if you like how they turn out. If you’re up for it, maybe we can start switching off during dinner to create our ideas. I have a couple swimming around in my head, too.”

  “You’ve got a deal,” I agree.

  The kitchen door swings open as three employees, along with Adam, walk in with arms full of whiskey bottles.

  “Place the bottles on Wes’s table.” Adam gestures to where I stand with Trey. “Alright, since I’m giving you these, you need to make something amazing. Oh, and I want to add a hot chocolate to the drink menu.”

  “We have hot--” Trey starts.

  “I want real chocolate,” Adam cuts in, hands on his hips, and his feet in a wide stance. “Not that powdered shit that you add water to. I want to create two different hot chocolates, both with real chocolate and milk.”

  “Do you want them today, or can I work on them another time?” I ask.

  “Why do you want two different ones? What are you thinking?” Trey moves to lean against the table.

  “I want rich dark chocolate for both. One a spicy or Mexican hot chocolate, the other with whiskey or another liquor. I’m pretty sure the whiskey will be a hit, though.” Adam steps closer to the table. “Can we make apple cider from scratch and spike it?”

  “That’s an idea. We need to tell Calla to order more produce and chocolate,” Trey pipes in.

  “Go tell her. I need to get this mixed. And don’t forget to tell her about the restaurant we want her to check out too,” I remind him, as I grab a few mixing bowls and pots and get started on my concoctions.

  “You really want her to get laid by someone that’s not you? Do you think that will make things better?” Adam growl-whispers at me.

  “She needs to get Torrence out of her system. If I had my way, she would’ve fucked someone already.” I chop the chocolate using more force than needed, and place the pieces in the double boiler.

  “It’s not going to change anything,” Adam states before pushing off the table and heading for the swinging door.

  “One of you push power on the stereo and turn it up. I don’t care what’s playing,” I snarl over the commotion of the kitchen.

  The black and chrome room fills with Maroon 5, and all chatter ceases. With the music blaring, I am able to get into my zone, blocking everything and everyone out as I work on my creations. The chocolate in the double boiler is starting to melt, finally, and I flip on the burner for the milk and sugar to simmer.

  Rihanna’s S&M echoes in the room, and my thoughts shift. Imagines of Calla splayed over one of the workstations, with arms and legs tied to the legs of the station, splash across my mind. Then come more images of me pouring the chocolate sauce down her chest and watching as it covers her ample breasts, trailing down her stomach to her apex.

  “Fuck me!” I hiss out.

  Think about something else and stop fantasizing about Calla! Especially here. It’s bad enough knowing that thinking about her is the only way I can get hard anymore.

  I re-adjust myself and go back to the melted chocolate. I pour a cup of it out for Adam and set the rest to the side as the sugar dissolves in the milk. Before the chocolate cools too much more, I shoot off a text.

  Wes: You have a cup of melted chocolate waiting for you.

  Adam: On my way.

  I test the milk and sugar, stirring it one last time. Then I begin adding the milk to the chocolate, blending the two together slowly until it is a smooth, glossy liquid. Cream goes into the mixture before I set that bowl aside to cool.

  In a separate saucepan, I pour in sugar and let it melt into caramel. Once it is caramelized, I remove it from the head and add the cream. Ret
urning the pot to the heat, I let the ingredients simmer, until the hardened caramel completely dissolves. Then I add the butter, incorporating it into the sauce. I turn off the burner and remove the pan from the heat, as I whisk in the whiskey.

  “You have something for me?” Adam’s voice catches my attention, and I glance up.

  “Yeah, let me put the caramel in a jar, and we can finish the chocolate.”

  I find two jars large enough for the sauces and quickly get back to Adam. He has dipped his pinky in the cup of chocolate, tasted it, and is moaning. At least, I think that’s what the sound coming from my friend is.

  “What chocolate did you use? This is delicious.” Adam sets the cup back on the table.

  “The dark chocolate we use to shave over the top of a few desserts.”

  “Nice. What’s this one?” Adam gestures to the caramel sauce I am drizzling into one of the glass jars.

  “It’s the whiskey-caramel sauce to go over the mini apple pies I’m thinking about.” I pick up a spatula and scrape the remaining caramel into the jar.

  When the caramel jar is full, I place the pot to the side and grab the one containing the chocolate sauce. It still needs the whiskey added to it, and I am debating which brand to use when Calla’s voice catches my attention. I need to make a decision. My hand lands on a bottle I don’t expect, a Yellow Spot.

  “Adam, what the fuck man? Are you sure you want me to use this?” The shock in my voice must startle Adam, because his eyes go wide.

  “Hell, yes! I know it’s expensive, but there’s not much in there. At least, not enough for a full glass, so I brought it in.” Adam shrugs.

  I take the cup of chocolate from Adam’s hand and pour the remaining Yellow Spot in before mixing them together. I am handing the cup back to Adam, when Calla and Trey walk up.

  “What’s going on over here? I haven’t seen either of you near a pastry table since the night we opened, and we all got wasted drinking,” she catches sight of the bottles and nods toward them, “whiskey while baking for the grand opening.”