Page 61 of Babydaddy To Go

“I love you, too,” I tell him before drifting off to sleep.

For the first time since we broke up, I actually manage to sleep through the night.

21

Nathaniel

Monday

Coming back to class was hard after such a blissful weekend in Maine. Having Alyssa on my arm made it a lot easier.

According to the school administration, there are no rules against an instructor dating a student as long as the instructor remains impartial and grades the student on skill. I am more than capable of handling that if it means I get to see Alyssa.

“Are you ready?” I ask my beautiful girlfriend before we head into the classroom.

Alyssa nods. “I’m really happy to be back. I never should have left in the first place.”

She’s right. It’s my fault she had to miss a week’s worth of class. We went over the assignments this past weekend, though, and I have no doubt she’ll be able to master the skills for the final.

I take Alyssa’s hand and push open the classroom door. Every eye in the room is on us, but almost all of them lose interest quickly. I guess Alyssa and I weren’t as stealthy with our relationship as we thought. It doesn’t help that most of these people probably saw the episode of my reality show that featured Alyssa. I should call my assistant and apologize for flipping out on her about that episode.

One person can’t seem to look away. She stares wide-eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

I was amazed when Samantha showed up in class on Tuesday. After everything she did, I thought she’d drop out. I’m guessing her dad made her stay.

Luckily, from this point on in the semester, all of the projects will be solo projects. Alyssa won’t have to work side by side with the woman who sabotaged our relationship.

Alyssa is too good of a person to purposely screw up a dish to get Samantha a bad grade, but I wouldn’t put it past Samantha to attempt a last-ditch effort at winning my affection.

Honestly, I can’t believe she ever thought she had a chance given what I feel for her now.

Neither of us say a word to Samantha. Alyssa takes her seat at her desk and smiles at a few of the other students. They start up small conversations until I get to the white board and start the lecture. The class settles as soon as my marker hits the white board.

“Today we’re making bread,” I explain. “Tomorrow, we’ll be baking the bread and using it in our recipe. For today, you’re going to practice kneading the dough and then we’ll let it rise overnight.”

My lecture continues with a discussion on yeast and different types of bread. We’re going to make rolls that would act as a pre-meal snack for customers and then we’re going to prepare baguettes and ciabatta bread. The ciabatta will be for Wednesday’s lesson.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

A few hands shoot up. The first one I call on, a kid named Davis who sits in the back and is incredible with seafood, asks, “Are the techniques for making bread fairly consistent or will what we do today be unique to the breads we’re making?”

“Excellent question. While each type of bread will have its own set of rules, for the most part you’re following the same general formula.”

Davis jots down my answer and nods. The other questions are similarly important for the class to know. I note them mentally in case I teach the course again. I’ll add the questions to the lecture in case no one asks afterwards.

When no more hands are raised, I dismiss the students to their kitchens. Alyssa maintains a wide berth around Samantha who shoots daggers at both me and Alyssa. She’s a petty brat. I hope she grows up eventually.

Though I keep an eye on everyone, I’m keenly aware of how Alyssa is doing. I won’t judge her unfairly, but I will definitely watch how she works. No one can stop me from looking at my beautiful girlfriend. She looks effortlessly great in her fitted chef’s jacket. Unlike Samantha who, once again, has the top buttons undone in an attempt to look sexy.

When will she ever learn that being a chef is not a sexy job? If she wants to show off her body, she should take up a different career.

But back to Alyssa. The timid girl from the first day of class is completely gone. My woman moves around the kitchenette with the confidence of a seasoned professional. Without questioning herself, she gathers the bread flour, yeast, sugar, water, and everything else she’ll need to prepare the dough. This is the kind of progress we’re supposed to see at NYACA. We want chefs to leave here sure of their abilities. That’s the only way you’ll make it in the real world.

Samantha’s own confidence wanes with every passing second. She’s had the opposite transformation. She started class with a straight, stuck-up posture that has since hunched over with every poor grade.

“Nathaniel, can you help me attach the dough hook to my mixer?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.

Alyssa shoots a dirty look at the girl’s back. We both know what Samantha is still trying to do.