After a few minutes, Tracy and Mr. Hayes were seated comfortably in a pair of plush chairs. To their left, next to Tracy, was another seat for Gordon. The one open side of the table faced the kitchen where Gordon Baxter was hard at work.
"I brought some champagne, Mr. Hayes," Gordon called to him without looking away from his station. "It’s in the cooler. There are glasses in there, too."
"Excellent. I will be right back."
He touched Tracy on the back of her neck softly before walking away, giving her a little chill. When he was gone, she turned back to the kitchen.
"What are you working on now?"
"Ah," Gordon reached into a metal bin and scooped up a small ball of rice. "I made some risotto yesterday and stuck it in the cooler overnight."
The way that he moved around the kitchen so effortlessly was amazing to Tracy. Seeing anyone perform a skill that they have mastered was a treat, but seeing a chef of her payroll do his thing was even more rewarding. There was an easy dexterity in the way that he handled his tools that was fascinating- almost entrancing- to her.
Gordon pressed his thumb into the ball of creamy rice, forming a little divot.
"So I take it and form the risotto around a piece of this amazing buffalo mozzarella that I found just a block from here. Then it gets breaded and fried up really quick."
He quickly made five more before dropping them all into a bowl of bread crumbs and tossing the whole thing at once, coating every piece evenly. When that was done, he turned around and dropped each one into the hot fryer.
"For the base," he continued, turning around to pluck down two rectangular appetizer plates. "I whipped up a tomato coulis with garlic, thyme and a couple of other things yesterday."
Mr. Hayes returned quietly with three glasses and a bottle of champagne on ice. He sat down in his seat and served all three of them. Tracy knew that he was there, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the skilled chef performing in front of her.
Gordon grabbed a small saucepan from the back of the stove and used a large spoon to put a dollop of the smooth, red sauce on the far end of each plate. Then he jerked the end of the spoon through the mound, pulling it into a decorative wisp of crimson. On top of each one, he placed two small beds of micro greens and topped those with the hot, crispy rice balls.
"Then I’m going to top this simply with a sprinkle of some pancetta that I crisped up earlier, a dusting of fresh Parmesan and a sprinkle of chopped parsley for color. And that’s about it."
He wiped his hands off on a towel hanging from his waist before carrying the plates over to the table and setting them down in front of the couple. Tracy looked down at her plate, almost afraid to destroy his masterpiece. Almost, that is, if it wasn’t for the tantalizing aroma wafting up and accosting her nose.
"Dig in," he politely demanded with a smile. "It’s called arancini."
Tracy grabbed her fork and sank the side of it through the golden-brown sphere. She scooped up a piece, using her knife to sweep up a little bit of everything and slipped it into her mouth. A sudden burst of flavors, from the sweet tomato to the salty pancetta and all of the other subtle flavors in between, filled Tracy’s senses. She mumbled her approval through the mouth full of food and closed her eyes, allowing the elegant layers of flavor to melt into one on her palate.
When she was finally able to swallow and open her eyes again, she exclaimed, "Holy shit!"
Mr. Hayes looked at her sideways and raised his eyebrows. He was struggling to keep from laughing.
"Yeah?"
Tracy let herself chuckle and fell back against her seat.
"Yeah. That is amazing, Gordon. Honestly. I don’t even have words right now."
The battle-hardened chef smiled with a genuine happiness and replied, "Thank you very much. That is why I do this."
"She’s right though," Mr. Hayes broke in. "My compliments."
Gordon tipped his head in acknowledgment, then rubbed his hands together.
"Go ahead and eat. I am going to start on the second course."
Tracy smiled and watched him go back to work with reverent fascination. Of course, that didn’t stop her from shoveling down the rich, cheesy goodness as she did so.
Just as she sucked down the last bite that she had, she felt Mr. Hayes’ hand slip under the hem of her dress and come to rest on her thigh. His hot palm tickled her through the smooth, sheer stockings that she wore.
Tracy set down her fork and turned to him.
"Yes, Mr. Hayes?"
He smirked and moved his chair closer to her, never once letting go of her supple leg.
"I was just thinking that you look beautiful tonight."
Tracy took a drink of her champagne, letting the dry bubbles carry away the appetizer’s more subtle flavors for good. She set the glass back down and turned her body to him just slightly; only enough to tease him.
"Thank you."
His hand tried to inch upward, but Tracy pulled away. She had been submissive to him once, but now she was on top of her game. It felt, in that moment, like the world and everything in it was hers for the taking. There was no way that Mr. Hayes was going to get away with that again.
Not tonight, at least, she thought and turned back to the kitchen.
"So what’s next, Chef?"
Gordon grabbed a sheet pan out of a nearby holding cooler. On it was three rows of round ravioli with neatly crimped edges.
"These are filled with a cremini mushroom reduction, a little ricotta to hold it together and a mix of hard cheeses like pecorino and romano." He walked over and unceremoniously dumped the whole lot into a tall pot of boiling water. He didn’t even wince when large drops of the fiery liquid jumped up and landed on his bare arms. "They only take about three minutes to cook. While that happens, I’m going to finish up the sauce."
"And that is?"
Gordon grabbed a saucier and held it down so that she could see the simmering, golden liquid inside.
"I’ve got some butter that I’m browning slightly." He set the pan back down and threw in a few green leaves. "There’s some sage and a little lemon juice. Now I can put the pasta in here to finish."
He used a scoop to pull out the floating ravioli and dumped them into the sauce. A spectacular, though short-lived hiss filled the kitchen as the water and hot butter reacted. Columns of steam rose up in Gordon’s face, making his skin glisten evenly for a while afterward.
After a few flicks of the wrist and a generous palm full of parmesan, he grabbed another two plates- these ones were deeper and more squared- and served up the shining disks.