Strange.
“I’m dying to see what desserts you have today, Robert. I’ve heard great things about them,” Alex says, practically gushing about these fucking desserts again.
What the hell has he heard about these cakes? Now he’s on a first-name basis with this guy too?
Robert walks away to check what they have, but he returns a few seconds later looking all long-faced. “I don’t see any. Let me check in the back to see if there’ll be any ready soon.”
“I’d love the chance to meet your pastry chef. I work as a chef at CK,” Alex says with a smile.
“Oh, I wish I could, but I can’t let anyone back there because she’s very particular about her work.”
Alex nods. “I completely understand. Trust me. I do. I wouldn’t want strangers loping through my kitchen either.”
“Let me go check to see what she has. I’ll be right back.”
After he walks away, I nudge Alex’s forearm. “So the pastry chef is particular? Here? Sounds like bullshit to me.”
“She’s an artist, Cade. You don’t fuck around with an artist’s area. I get it.”
“Well, I don’t. This sounds utterly pretentious. Dare I say, snobbish?”
Alex shakes his head. “You don’t get it. I do. She has a space where she creates things. Having people she doesn’t know in that space affects her.”
“Can we leave yet, or are we sticking around for some cake or pie we could get anywhere else on the damn planet? I have things to do.”
“You have nothing to do that can’t be pushed off for an hour more. Whoever she is, she can wait.”
That he assumes it’s a woman that’s making me want to leave here is a logical guess but an incorrect one. Since I don’t want to start a discussion about my love life, I sit back and let out a huff of disgust.
All of this for something that isn’t even a doughnut.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the kitchen doors open, and there in full view for me is the woman who’s been peering out the window at us for the last half hour. In her arms, she carries a tray of what look like cookies, but I barely waste a second studying them since she’s stunning.
Is this the famous pastry chef my cousin can’t talk enough about?
I barely get enough time to see she has light blond hair that goes to just below her shoulders and blue eyes. She looks like one of those stunning girls that hang out at the beach, not someone who spends her days in a kitchen.
When she sees I’m looking at her, she hurries back behind those doors, but now she doesn’t sneak any peeks out at me. Disappointed, I look across the table at Alex and see by the look on his face he noticed her too.
“Is that her? The person who makes the desserts?” I ask, suddenly curious about these tasty treats he can’t talk enough about.
“I don’t know, but damn, whoever she is, she’s gorgeous. I got the feeling she liked what you looked like,” he says with a chuckle.
“She’s been looking out at us the whole time we’ve been here. I figured she knew you from the restaurant. You know, since you both work in the same business.”
Shaking his head, he laughs again. “Trust me, if anyone who looked like that worked at CK, I’d know. Kane’s been doing the hiring for the past few months, and I swear to God the guy won’t even consider someone to work in the kitchen who doesn’t have ten years’ experience under their belt. That pretty much ensures everyone, male and female, is in their forties, at least.”
“Thank God for nepotism, right?” I say, taking this one opportunity to bust his balls.
He shrugs off my jab at how he got his job. “I guess, but that means I don’t get to work with anyone even close to my age.”
I look around for the mystery woman and don’t see her. “So what do you know about this pastry chef?”
“Suddenly interested?” he asks with a chuckle.
“I’m not dead, man. I’m just jaded and a snob, remember? But even someone like that can appreciate a woman that gorgeous.”
Robert returns a few moments later and blocks my view of the kitchen doors. “These are the creations for today. Hailey calls them lace cookies.”
He sets a plate with a cookie down in front of each of us. “I hope you enjoy them.”
I want to ask him more about this Hailey, but he hurries away before I can get a word out. Alex stares down in awe at the rectangle cookie that looks like white lace over a dark chocolate dough.
“Look at these scalloped edges and what she’s done with the icing. It looks like actual lace. What did I tell you? Artist. That’s the only word for the person who can create something like this. I need to get a picture of these.”
As much as I don’t usually go all crazy for cookies, I can’t disagree with what he’s saying. I’ve never seen anything that looks like this cookie in front of me. The icing truly does look like real lace, and not just some basic design. What look like delicate flowers and leaves made out of icing sit on top of this dark cookie, and I’m not even sure I should eat something so beautiful.
Alex doesn’t have that issue, though, and once he gets finished taking half a dozen pictures of his cookie, his hedonistic ways take over. With one bite, he looks like he’s in heaven. His eyes roll back in his head, making him look like he’s about to get off right here in the booth.
“It tastes even better than it looks, Cade. Holy fuck, you have to try this cookie. It’s chocolate but not like anything I’ve ever tasted before.”
Lifting it to my mouth to take a bite, I joke, “You going to be okay over there? We need to leave this place sometime soon, so try to tamp down the hard on you’ve got going on.”
One taste of that cookie when it hits my tongue and I know why he’s acting like he is. It’s delicious. Actually, that isn’t a good enough word for it, but I don’t know what would be good enough to explain how sweet and light it tastes at the same time.
When Robert returns wearing a hopeful look, I don’t give Alex a chance to talk and say, “I’d love to meet the person who made this. It’s incredible.”
Alex immediately joins in on the praise. “They are fantastic. From one chef to another, I’d be honored if we could tell her how wonderful we think they are.”
Robert seems to hesitate for a moment but then nods, giving us a smile like he’s proud of his pastry chef. “Okay. I’ll get her.”
The two of us wait, and Alex says in a low voice, “Try not to be your usual dick self. She might actually like you if you aren’t.”
Nice. My best friend thinks I’m a dick. And a snob.
I consider asking him what the hell that comment means, but before I can, Robert returns with the person I’m silently calling the woman of my dreams. A couple yards away before, she looked stunning. Up close, she’s even better.
Twice in the span of a few minutes, I don’t have the right word to describe something regarding her.
“Gentlemen, this is Hailey, my daughter. She’s the one who makes the wonderful desserts for our restaurant,” Robert says, beaming pride.
Hailey. At least now I officially know the name of the woman of my dreams. The problem is my dream woman isn’t even looking up at me. Not that she’s looking at Alex either. In fact, her gaze seems plastered to the floor.