Romance Impossible(18)

"It's very early," I said. "I only just met him today."

Chef chuckled a little, turning on the sprayer. "That's not an answer," he said, his voice raised over the sound of the rushing water. "Don't be diplomatic."

"Well then, Chef, he seems a little..." I took a deep breath. "Inexperienced."

He just nodded, looking down at the sink.

"But, I mean, that's easily cured," I backpedaled. "And everybody has to start somewhere, right?"

There was no answer. I wished I could see his face, but he was bent over his task. I wondered why he hadn't asked Aiden to stay and help clean up. Like in most jobs, the kitchen pecking order typically indicated that the least skilled, least experienced people did the majority of the grunt work. It simply made good sense. Someone like Chef Dylan shouldn't be wasting his time with dishes.

"I like washing up," he said, suddenly. It was like he'd read my thoughts, but more likely, he'd picked up on my staring at him awkwardly and wondering if I should help out. "Clears my head. Don't worry, I'll have a proper dishwasher hired before we open."

That's not what I'm worried about, I wanted to say. But I bit my tongue.





CHAPTER SIX

Brule





Sometimes, in order to bring out the best flavor in a food, it needs to be burned. Just enough to caramelize, to brule - to bring the natural sweetness to the surface.





- Excerpted from Dylan: A Lifetime of Recipes





***





Max





***





When you're in the public eye, it's very easy for people to think they know you.

Yeah, yeah - no surprises there. We know how ridiculous it is, yet we all do it. We psychoanalyze people we've never met. We speculate on their motivations, their character flaws, and just generally behave as if they aren't real people.

Some of us blur the line. I'll grant you that. They have public personas that are carefully constructed, over-the-top performances. A lot of people think that's true of me. But I swear to you, on whatever you consider holy - it's not.

Of course, the version of me that you know isn't the whole picture. But that's a different story altogether.

You learn to value the people who really know you, really understand you, and don't buy into any of the bullshit. It's not just anyone who happened to know you before you were famous. As it happens, it's really not uncommon for people to be swayed by public opinion. Even if they should know better. Sometimes especially if they should know better.#p#分页标题#e#

There's just a few people in my life whose opinion I really value. Barbara is one of them. She's an old friend from my dishwashing days, beautiful and self-assured, who's never once hesitated to tell it like it is. When we met, she was engaged to be married. By the time she filed for divorce, I was in a semi-serious relationship that - for some reason - I thought was actually going somewhere.

It went like that, for years and years, always just slightly out of sync. At a certain point I told myself I'd given up on the possibility, but if I'm being honest...

Ah well, it would happen when it happened. If it happened.

I wondered what she would think of Jill. I often wondered what she would think - but for the first time in a while, I found myself wondering what Jill would think of her.





***



"You're insane," Beckett told me, for the fiftieth time, as he dropped off his wine pairing list for the charity dinner.

"You could just record a loop of you saying that," I pointed out, scanning over the names, "along with 'you're a right bastard,' and you'd never have to talk to me again."

"I don't understand why you'd put yourself through all this stress a week before opening." Beckett had his arms folded across his chest, and the slight frown on his face reminded me very much of Mom. But for some reason, I didn't bother telling him.

"For charity, Beckett," I said. "It's for charity."

"Right," he said. "Of course. Here I was, thinking you were after publicity. How could I be so cold?"

"Like I need it," I scoffed, setting the list down. "You know how much I love donating my talents for the greater good."

"Almost as much as you love patting yourself on the back." Beckett was already turning to leave. "You know these people are just in it for the tax write-off, they'd pay a thousand dollars a plate for McDonald's."

"Thank you, and fuck off," I called after him as he walked away.

As far as I was concerned, there was no such thing as too much publicity with a new restaurant opening. And yes, of course, it was nice to do things for charity. I didn't know why Beckett felt the need to give me grief about it. Even the people who seem to give selflessly are just doing it to make themselves feel better.