Page 42

14
Spencer
Grabbing the bottom of my apron, I dab at the droplets beading on my forehead. Sweat is not an ideal garnish for this strawberry shortcake cream puff dessert I’m assembling.
I release a shaky breath.It’s almost over.Just dessert left.
For the past few hours, I feel like I’ve been reenacting a scene right out ofMrs. Doubtfire, hiding in the kitchen, and toggling between waitress and secret behind-the-scenes chef. I have to keep my apron on in the kitchen so I don’t get my clothes too messy. I know Nathan isn’t buying this. His skeptical scowl is permanently glued to his face every time I set a new plate in front of them. But it doesn’t matter becauseShaylinis eating this whole ruse up. That’s the point of tonight. If the dinner goes well, and she agrees to sign whatever deal Brickstone wants her to, this night was a success, and Nathan will have no reason to reprimand me.
Outside of the nervous anxiety, it’s been fun to cook in a professional kitchen. I don’t accidentally hip-check the counter every time I turn around which is already a major step up from my tiny apartment kitchen.
Most of what I made tonight was prepped at home. The hummingbird pie was my mom’s recipe. The final touch was using small, heart-shaped cookie cutters to shape pieces from the center. It was such a waste of pie, but after a drizzle of caramel and dusting of confectioner’s sugar, it looked like a bougie move a fancy restaurant would pull. Let’s sacrifice a whole pie for two center-cut, palm-sized pieces.
Little do they know, the salad was from a bag, but I made the dressing fresh at least—a zesty lime vinaigrette that I googled. The filet mignon was also a little overcooked. I was going for medium-rare, but we got medium-well after they spent too much time in a butter bath. There’s a good chance I’m my own worst critic, because there were zero complaints from the table. I actually watched in shock as Shaylin immediately cut a long piece of steak, the size of her whole thumb, and inhaled it like a barbarian. Good for her. It’s refreshing when women actually eat on dates.
Dates.Ugh. It was supposed to be a business meeting, but let’s call this what it is. Nathan’s probably swooning over the slender, long-legged, blonde beauty that makes my annual salary in the blink of an eye. They’re definitely going home together tonight, and I’m trying really hard not to think about it. I’m trying to think about the good parts of this evening, like when Nathan actually cracked a smile after biting into my Cuban egg rolls.
Those I will accept zero criticism on. They are my own personal twist on our beloved Cubanos. I slow-roasted the marinated pork shoulder all morning. I used Lumpia wrappers for extra crunchiness. While the spicy, dijon-honey glaze is a step away from authenticity, it balances perfectly. At least, that’s what Mom used to tell me. These were her favorite. Even after she started chemo and her appetite vanished, she never said no to my Cuban egg rolls.
Ready to bring this entire evening over the finish line, I plate the strawberry cream puffs, and place a few halved strawberries on the side of the treat. Fighting the urge to drizzle, I dot the inside of the white porcelain dessert plate with homemade strawberry glaze. It looks fancier this way, and I’m pretending to be an award-winning chef back here. A tiny sliver of almond on each puff, then a light dust of confectioner’s sugar, and… “Done,” I exclaim out loud like I’m a contestant onFinal Cutfinishing my dish in the nick of time.
With a plate in each hand, I eagerly make my way through the double doors into the dining room. I did it. I actually fucking pulled this off. There’s a bouncy pep in my step until I turn the corner of the dim-lighted restaurant to see Nathan’s arm around Shaylin. They’re no longer sitting across from each other. She’s scooted her chair to him and is wearing his navy suit jacket over her bare arms. He’s rubbing her shoulder affectionately. The moment he sees me, he drops his arm and shifts his gaze down as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t.
My stomach sinks, swallowed up by a black hole of utter disappointment.Stop it, Spencer. You knew. This isn’t a surprise.I try to disappear as I approach the table. I slide their dessert plates in front of them silently and attempt to leave quickly.
“Why are you wearing an apron?” Nathan asks.
I look down and see the evidence of my slipup.Fuck.I forgot to take it off. “Dishes,” I say quickly. “I was helping Tansy clean up.”
He could easily pick apart my lie. There’s stains on the clean white apron, colors from every single course. But instead, Nathan shows mercy. “I see.”
“Hope you enjoy,” I force out and spin around to leave.
“Wait!” When I turn back around, Shaylin’s smile is so innocent. She has no idea she’s hurting me right now. It’s noton purpose. She has every right to go after a man like Nathan. Anyways, she can have him. I hate him. So. Damn. Much. “What is this? It’s so cute I don’t even want to eat it.”
I’m exhausted. I just want to run to the kitchen, make a blanket fort, and fall asleep reading a good book with a bright flashlight. Adulting is too much sometimes. I miss being a kid.
“It’s Tansy’s take on a strawberry shortcake. Instead of a biscuit, it’s an almond-liquor-infused cream puff with a whipped strawberry cheesecake filling. The glaze is a citrus-strawberry reduction.”
Shaylin grabs the dessert with two fingers and takes a messy bite, cream spilling out of the casing of the pastry crust and smearing on her lips. “Mmmm,” she moans. “Can I order about fifty more of these?” she asks, after swallowing. “It’s seriously insane. Nathan, try this.”
I die inside when she holds the second bite of her treat to his lips. He hesitates, but eventually his lips part and she shoves the pastry into his mouth. I’ve never seen a human chew slower. A sloth, sure. It feels as if Nathan is trying to drag out the torture he’s not aware he’s inducing.
“That’s really good,” he finally says. Something changes in his eyes. There’s a sweet sincerity I haven’t seen since the first night we met—just a quick flash of Nate. “Would you tell the chef she’s incredible, and I’m very impressed. Good job.”
I raise one eyebrow. “You want me to tell Tansy Haleen, ‘good job’?”
For a moment, nothing exists except us two. The romantic, dim-lit restaurant melts away. Shaylin dissolves into the abyss. It’s only me, Nathan, and all our lies.
“Well, what should I say?”
“Just…thank you.”
He nods in understanding. “Thank you, Spencer.”
It’s so obvious I’m caught, but who cares. Tonight wasn’t aboutwinningper se. It was about not giving up and not allowing any man to underestimate me.
“I’ll let her know.” With that, I turn on my heel and dash away before I’m trapped by further conversation.