Page 48 of Babydaddy To Go

The class jumps to action. Most of the partnerships have worked well thus far. I haven’t heard any complaints. This is only our second big partner dish, though. Tensions run high with so much at stake. That’s why I make them each do their own lobster. That way, the biggest part of their grade is coming from them individually.

Working with other people is a huge part of the restaurant business. I’m hoping this is good practice for them.

“Mr. Glover,” Samantha says sweetly. “I thought you said you’d help?”

Crap. Is that what I agreed to? I guess I’m stuck. I should tell Samantha she can cut down to two sides, but it’s too late for that now.

I walk slowly to the kitchenette she once shared with Alyssa. It takes most of my energy to force down thoughts of the curvy brown-haired girl who stole my heart in this very classroom.

“What would you like me to do?” I ask Samantha.

She squeezes her arms together so the tops of her breasts spill from her lazily buttoned chef’s coat.

“I have a few ideas,” she whispers.

I take a step back.

“How about I work on the vegetables?”

Samantha looks disappointed.

“Fine. Fire-roasted corn and glazed red potatoes. Should be easy.”

I nod.

“I can handle that. Please keep in mind you won’t be graded on the work I do, but you will be graded on plating, which includes both vegetables.”

She huffs.

“Fine.”

Samantha stays on the other side of the kitchenette while I clean potatoes. Once they’re ready, I have no choice but to join her since she’s right next to the stove top. You can’t fire-roast corn without fire.

“Excuse me,” I say. “I need to use the stove.”

She bats her eyelashes at me. “Say please,” she teases.

I am so not in the mood for this today. “Please,” I concede. Better to just do it than tell her she’s being a brat.

She still doesn’t move. “I think you need to make me move.”

“Samantha, remember you have limited time and these vegetables need to be on your plate.”

“You’re no fun,” she says with a giggle. “Fine, but you’re going to have some time on your hands when you’re done with the corn and potatoes. Maybe you could help me out?”

“If you genuinely need help when I’m done, we’ll talk.”

Samantha prepares her lobster while I cook the corn. With that roasted, I start on the glaze for the potatoes. They’ll probably take the longest to cook, so I toss them into the oven immediately.

“I need you!” Samantha says in what I suppose is meant to be a sultry voice. “I can’t open the bread crumbs.”

With one hand, I peel back the silver seal. “Anything else?”

“I can’t seem to reach the mixing bowls from above the sink. Can you get one for me?”

“Of course,” I tell her since I can’t exactly say no. I hand her a stack of graduated metal mixing bowls and check on the potatoes. They’re roasting nicely so I toss them around a bit so they cook evenly.

“Can you check to make sure I’m gutting the lobster correctly?” she asks sweetly. “I wouldn’t want you to wind up eating something disgusting.”