Page 29 of Babydaddy To Go

“No,” I tell him. “Leave me alone.”

Trevor still won’t take a hint. He strokes my cheek for the second time. That’s it, I can’t take this. I stand up to get away from him, but there are a bunch more people on the train now and nowhere for me to go. Trevor stands to follow me.

An arm wraps around my waist, startling me. “There you are,” says a familiar voice. “I was worried about you, baby.”

I look up to find Nate next to me, pulling me against his side. Trevor looks between us and huffs, sitting back down.

Nate tugs me towards the other end of the train.

“Thank you, Nathaniel,” I whisper. I use his full name since we’re in public. He doesn’t seem to go by ‘Nate’ in real life, but since that’s how he introduced himself I can’t stop using it in my head.

“That guy was being a jerk. I heard you tell him to stop. One of those people around you should have stepped in to help.”

I agree with him. There were a bunch of people around who could have told Trevor to cool his jets, but none of them did.

“I appreciate you coming to my rescue.”

Nate nods and keeps his arm secure around my waist until our stop. As soon as we’re off the train, his arm drops back to his own side. I guess Chef Nathaniel is making his appearance once again.

I don’t understand him. One second, Nate is warm and loving. The next, he’s ice cold. Which version is the real him?

At this point, I’m not sure I want to find out.

I sigh. Nathaniel is a few paces ahead of me already. We’re going to the same place, so I can’t avoid him. Instead, I do the only thing I can do.

I hoist my bag up onto my shoulder and follow him to class.

10

Nathaniel

Tuesday

Samantha is once again wearing a revealing chef’s coat, but that’s not why I’m distracted by her kitchenette. Alyssa is there too, with her coat buttoned to the top while working hurriedly on her pasta dough. All I see when I look at her is the lush, nude woman I made love to earlier this morning.

A swear from the other side of the room captures my attention. One of the students cut himself somehow. How did that happen? They’re not supposed to be using knives right now.

I drag the first aid kit over to his station and bandage up his small cut. He’s back to cooking a few seconds later.

Now is as good a time as any to survey the room. Instead of beginning the day with a lecture, I sent the students directly to their stations to make their pasta dough. It has to rest for at least forty five minutes before cutting, so once they’re done we’ll have the first part of our discussion.

The groups on the right side of the room are doing okay, with the exception of the kid who cut himself. I instruct some of them on better techniques, but for the most part I let them be. Yesterday was a test day. Today, we’re trying to learn and become better chefs. Everyone is afraid of me, which was my goal. That means they listen and accept my advice. It also means they distrust some of my praise, but that’s a small risk for a great reward.

The left side is having more trouble.

“Cassie,” I say, looking at the oldest student’s pile of flour. “Are you sure you measured properly? That looks like a lot of flour. You should only have about two cups for this egg noodle recipe.”

“Two cups?” she gasps, staring down at her mound. “I swear the recipe said five cups!”

“As discussed yesterday, part of our first unit is to learn how to properly read recipes. Please look over it again and make the proper amount of dough.”

Cassie sighs. She scoops her volcano of flour into the trash bin and begins measuring again.

“I’m sorry, chef,” Cassie apologizes.

“It’s an easy mistake, but don’t make it again.”

If I hadn’t noticed her excess of ingredients, her noodles would have come out terribly. I make a mental note to gently remind students to check and double check recipes during this unit. Eventually, we’ll get to the innovation part of the class. For now, I need to know these students can handle the basics.