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Chapter Text

“How many of you have heard your parents say ‘don’t play with your food’?” It was the opening line of chef Carol Aird, the guest lecturer at the Culinary Institute of America in New York. A show of hands spoke volumes. “Too many, almost all of you. Well, I’m no stranger to it myself either,” she smiled at the crowd. “To those of you who already have kids or are planning to have them, I say do just the opposite. Urge them to experiment, to play with food,” she encouraged heartily thinking of her own little girl, Rindy, always eager to sample the most outrageous combinations available.

“And you yourself, do it with abandon – let go of your former inhibitions, of all the preconceived ideas of what goes or doesn’t go together, and be truly creative.” She took a few steps towards her avid listeners. “Creativity means changing your mind every day, it’s a never ending process of trial and error.”

The auditorium was filled to the brim everyone eager to see and listen to the celebrated author of the brand new cookbook “Acquired Taste. How to Teach Your Palate.” 

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“So far I have spoken of the basics of flavor, how it is actually a combination of taste, mouth feel and aroma plus something I like to call the variable, all the extra which is perceived by other senses as well as your heart and mind,” she pointed out. “Before I take your questions, I’d also like to address the concept of culinary artistry. An extraordinary meal has the power to move us just like any great art, it has a rhythm and a harmony not to mention an appealing outlook of its own.”

Her audience waiting with a baited breath, Carol paused for a minute. Just when she was about to continue their eyes met. She had sensed something extraordinary already some time ago but only now she recognized the source of her indistinct feeling. A young, brown-haired woman held her gaze suddenly and unexpectedly. Losing her train of thought, Carol had no idea who she was nor why her stare was any different from other pairs of eyes focused on her. The wide-eyed beauty of her youth captivated her all the same.

The moment lasted a fraction of a second or an eternity, she couldn’t quite tell, for the girl seemed so intent at looking back. Carol stared at her, almost through her, as if seeing something beyond the obvious. In a way she saw herself standing there, hiding in the back like she had done more than a decade ago. Like her, she had been so oblivious to the effect her looks had had on people surrounding her. But now she knew better like any woman must know at the age of 37, Carol thought. 

Her mother had been a striking beauty who hadn’t grown old too gracefully. It hadn’t been the waning looks, though, but the harshness of her spirit that had gotten to her in the end. In her daughter’s eyes she had always remained the same but to herself she had been relentlessly merciless, even cruel. She had constantly reminded Carol how very difficult it was for a beautiful woman to age, to lose the one thing that defined her in the eyes of the forever superficial world. She had been her memento mori, the often malicious onlooker who reminded her of her imminent mortality even at the height of her most innocent youthful splendor.

Her sister Eileen would never have to deal with their problems, her mother had stated, and doing so had hurt Eileen’s feelings irreparably. Carol had sought to make amends with her sister even though it hadn’t been her who had created the divide in the first place. Unappreciative of any such attempt, Eileen had withdrawn to herself conscious only of her mediocrity in her mother’s eyes. They were after all meant to be debutantes, well-bred young women to marry money and dedicate themselves to the needs of their husbands and children. It had all been ridiculously old-fashioned but then again they were the renowned Ross family of New Jersey, the one with old money and reputation.

Carol had grown to resent her own beauty, to see it as something that hindered her instead of pushing her forward. The terrifying need to please one’s parents had nevertheless affected her, and she had ended up marrying far too young and far too carelessly. And look how it all turned out. Everything would surely have unraveled much sooner if she hadn't immersed herself in cooking classes, the only vocation both her husband Harge and her parents had nothing against. 

The girl was charming, somehow defenseless. Yet she had a quality beyond mere outer perfection, something almost off-putting in her open scrutiny it felt like a sharp pain in Carol’s chest. It was the eagerness that stunned her, Carol realized, the strange ceaselessness of the girl’s attention.      

“The dining experience shouldn’t therefore be belittled,” she hastened to go on, “for what is art if not a source of inspiration and comfort?” Then, out of the blue, the girl raised her hand. “Yes?” Carol said fearing the spell would be broken, if she were to hear her speak. “I would say it is at its best closely related to poetry, music and painting.” Her beautiful, unassuming voice was rudely interrupted with inappropriate, adolescent snickering.

“You’re absolutely right!” Carol’s voice boomed over the obnoxious chatter. “How the dishes are described, the rhythm from one course to another and the bold, imaginative visuals…” she nodded at the girl whose cheeks were suddenly flushed with – embarrassment? “And food – it is very much like theatre, don’t you think?”

It was only now that she noticed how the rest of the students were busy taking notes but the girl didn’t even have a pad with her. Still somehow Carol knew she would remember everything she had said.

When they were done for the day, Carol was swept away by her friends at the institute. Sensing the girl’s presence vividly, she was hesitant to leave at first but then as if realizing her own foolishness she stepped out of the class room and gave no more thought to it.

Two years later

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t get this right…” The verjus jelly wasn’t to her liking at all. The amount of gellan she had used as a thickening agent had failed her miserably, and right now it frustrated Carol beyond belief. “Relax, honey, you’ll get there. It’s the nerves, so give it some more time. It’s not like you haven’t been through this hundreds of times before,” an auburn-haired woman in her late thirties assured her. “Gee, Abby, thanks for the vote of confidence… so I need hundreds of times to get the simplest dish ready for approval?” she retorted. “Oh you know what I mean! You’re just deliberately twisting my words,” Abby quipped impatiently.

Tossing her apron away, Carol collapsed into a chair. “I’m sorry, I know you mean well… it’s just that I feel we’re getting nowhere and the opening is only three months away.” She ran her fingers through her blonde hair in a desperate fashion. “I don’t even have my sous-chef yet… where the fuck is Paolo? I’ve been counting on him.” Abby rolled her eyes. “Paolo is only interested in Paolo, so maybe you shouldn’t put so much trust in him in the first place.” She laid her hand on Carol’s shoulder. “You have to keep your options open. How about Marc or Salvatore? They’re both available.”

Carol grimaced at the thought. “Marc and I won’t fit inside the same kitchen. We would kill each other before the end of the first week. And Salvatore… have you ever seen him come up with anything even remotely as interesting as those signature gnocchis he likes to throw around?” Abby chuckled at her remark. “I suppose you’re right but he runs a tight regime in the kitchen. You could use someone like him to oversee things when you’re not around.” Carol sighed but it wasn’t a happy sigh. “If I wanted someone just to keep the staff intact, I would ask Mike or Antonia, but I need creative input as well. Someone I can bounce ideas off…” she rubbed her temples pensively.

“I’m so bloody tired you won’t believe it. This shit’ll kill me before we even get to the beginning of April.” Abby brought over the espresso pot. “I believe it. Just one look at you and I just go ‘oh man, she really looks like a wreck, I wonder whatever happened to her..’” Glaring at Abby at first, Carol finally cracked a smile. “Shut the fuck up, you nitwit…”

Carol took a sip of her Lavazza and drew a long breath. She had gotten up very early to make it to the Fulton Fish Market before 5 AM. It was all in a day’s work, and she did love chatting with the wholesale dealers and checking out the overall supply. They were something else, the fishmongers, Carol admitted. When she had first started going there years ago, those outspoken, straightforward grizzlies of men had of course flirted with her unashamedly but nowadays they treated her with utmost respect. She had earned it with her vast knowledge and acumen, her appreciation of their often grueling toil. If a newcomer even attempted to treat her otherwise, the rest would put him right in his place.      

“Okay, what have you got so far?” Carol leaned over Abby’s shoulder to see what she was writing down. “Carol Aird, chef de cuisine – Philip McElroy, chef poissonnier – Jeanette Harrison, chef saucier – Thomas Tucker, chef rotisseur  – Genevieve Cantrell, chef patissier  – Daniel McElroy, sommelier and then it’s moi, the maître d’…” Abby concluded her list. “And of course I’ve compiled another, tentative list for the dining room as well but that’s my concern.” Contented, she closed her notebook.

“Well, it’s an impressive cast of talent… not the most experienced one but definitely something I can work with if only we’d have the one person we’re still missing…” Carol was again referring to the elusive sous-chef, the second in command. “But we’ll have to begin the creative workshops anyway, so round up the troops, will you? Starting at 8 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning.” Abby nodded in agreement and proceeded to call the key personnel.  

On her way home Carol thought about the upcoming restaurant that was yet far from finished. Abby had found a perfect spot for it at the East 20^th Street, between Park Avenue South and Broadway. The rent of the place was of course ludicrous, enough to put them out of business in no time unless they found their clientele right off the bat. They could’ve chosen to go with a smaller venue but Carol had her mind made up. She wanted both a bar and a dining room, each big enough to seat even occasional walk-ins.

Currently Abby did her best to keep her away from seeing the renovation in progress. “You’ll just get all upset over nothing. I’ll keep you posted, don’t you worry, it’s not like I don’t know what you want. We’ve gone over this so many times.” Abby did know what she wanted – she always had ever since they were ten year old. Lately their relationship had become somewhat strained although they managed to keep it hidden even from themselves during shoptalk. The cause for it was far too obvious, though.

One of the reasons Carol’s marriage had ended was Abby. Not Abby herself as much as the realization that had hit Carol through her. I guess she had always been aware of Abby’s crush on her she having been the lovelorn tomboy she still in a way was. But it had taken over ten years for Carol to acknowledge the possibility to fall for someone of her own sex let alone act upon it. So, there she had been, trapped in a loveless marriage, when she’d suddenly felt inexplicably drawn to her. One evening had changed everything between them but more importantly within her as well.

Carol shuddered remembering how it all had happened. Staying over at Abby’s one night, sharing a brandy in front of the fireplace, it had been so easy to lean into a kiss and let it take them further. First the sensation and then the elation it had left at its wake had created a thunderstorm that had ripped her off her moorings only to find they hadn’t been properly fastened in the first place. But it wasn’t a sweet, nostalgic shudder that went through her right now, far from it, for everything it had brought about had only been a steady cause for heartache to all parties concerned.

She should have known better than to toy with her desperate need for intimacy or with Abby’s for that matter, Carol admonished herself. She had seen the love in Abby’s eyes and for a moment she had mistaken her own joy of sexual fulfillment as something more as well. After a while she had put an end to it, and everything between them had changed once more.

How she wished she could take back the fateful night and return to the way they’d been before, Carol sometimes agonized. Strangely it had also brought them closer as friends, although it had taken Carol a while to fully realize it. Abby had told her about her past relations, of her short dalliances and more earnest attempts to love and be loved. Everything had however been shadowed by her feelings for her, Abby had confided to Carol.

So maybe it had been necessary after all, she hoped. Maybe her closing the formerly undefined gap between them had created something good as well? Even if its sudden end had temporarily ripped them apart. Two years should have taken care of it already if only… Carol closed her eyes ashamed of her own stupidity. If only I hadn’t let it happen again six months ago.

What a moronic thing to do – yet one so very human and understandable. The divorce in its final, epically hurtful round and she doubled up in pain. She would have slept with anyone at that point, Carol remembered. But still, she had decided to do so with the one person she shouldn’t have – her very best friend who was still in love with her. Well, not decided per se… she’d had too much to drink and one thing had led to another. What a bloody cliché.

Emotionally they were back to square one, and it was all her fucking fault, Carol scolded herself. Professionally they were starting a business together, a restaurant, one of the riskiest motherfucking ventures a New Yorker could think of. I’m swearing again, Carol thought. Well, that’s one thing I’m really good at.

Chapter Text

“Listen, guys, calm down. I know you're all excited and you have a lot of questions but there's one thing I want to make absolutely clear," Abby started, "If you have any inquiries about the ongoing renovation, about the restaurant as your place of work, you come to me. If it has to do with food, you ask chef Aird but you do not ask her anything about the facilities, you hear me!" She looked around to make sure everyone understood. "This is a creative session, not your pots-and-pans discussion group, okay?" The people around her nodded their heads sheepishly. "Okay," she concluded emphatically.

Carol breezed in five minutes later as she and Abby had decided beforehand. She was the creative talent, the one whose decisions made their joint effort either sink or swim. "Hello," she greeted everyone. "You've all met me before and I've handpicked each and everyone of you. Welcome.” She looked around to see if everyone was paying attention. They were.

“I'm not going to mince words now or in the future. I expect nothing less than eager minds willing to learn and work hard, precise teamwork and individual diligence. However, if I find you don’t have what it takes, make no mistake, you will be booted out." She drew an impatient breath. "We have three months to prepare a menu and, more importantly, our philosophy on why we do what we do. Everything will ride on it, so remember to embrace it from the very beginning."

A hand was raised. "Genevieve, do you already have something in your mind?" Genevieve Cantrell, the up-and-coming pastry chef, nodded meekly. "I was just wondering if I have misunderstood our set-up... who is the sous-chef again?" It starts already, Carol sighed. "The position of the sous-chef is yet to be filled but there's no need for you to bother yourself with it." Miss Cantrell contented herself to the information. "Yes, chef."

"We will have three sets of menus - an à la carte for lunch and a tasting menu for dinner with a vegetarian alternative. "Philip and Thomas -" Carol addressed, "Yes, chef?" Phil McElroy and Tommy Tucker acknowledged. "We will go through the list of proteins shortly and discuss the tentative selections," Carol explained. "Jeanette and Genevieve, I want you both to sit in as well so you'll get the general idea where we'll be heading." The women in question looked alert. "Yes, chef," they replied in accidental unison. "Daniel, I trust you got the email I sent you last night? I'd like to hear your preliminary thoughts on the wine pairings later this afternoon." Dannie had indeed gotten the hefty memo he’d only had time to skim through so far.

Carol moved next to a large flip chart. "Let’s start this workshop phase with a brainstorm.” She took a marker in her hand. “I want everyone of you to say one word you think could describe what we want to achieve.” She pointed at Genevieve at first. “Epiphany?” she suggested apprehensively. Nodding, Carol wrote it down motioning Phil to continue. “Ingenuity.” Carol added it to the list. “Wonder,” suggested Jeanette. “Harmony,” Tommy contributed. Carol waited Dannie to say his piece. “Mystique.” She wrote the fifth word on her list. “Abigail, I believe it’s your turn now…” The jovial maître d’ wasn’t prepared to take part in the discussion but she was quick to complement others. “Flow.”

Carol looked at the flip chart approvingly. “This is a good start, and I want you to internalize every single one of these notions. Some things are always vague but culinary creativity can’t be among them – at least not in my kitchen. So think beyond the cliché values and recognize what each concept could actually mean in our joint effort and in your work in particular.” Grinning, Abby raised her hand. “Yes, Abigail?” Carol asked slightly yet not visibly irritated by her interruption. “Aren’t you going to put your two cents in?” Carol’s smile was markedly derogatory but she humored her friend anyway. “But of course.” She picked up the marker and let the others know her take on the subject in bulky block letters. “Transcendence.”

After a short break they picked up where they’d left. “I’m thinking seven to ten courses’ tasting menu starting with an amuse bouche followed by at least two starters, two mains and two desserts with a granita or a sorbet in between to clean the palate.” Tommy raised his hand. “Have you come up any fixed ideas already?” Carol shook her head. “Nothing’s decided so far though I do have a general line-up in my mind. I don’t want you to adjust your way of thinking in any way just yet since I’m eager to hear what you can come up with.”

Carol turned another page on the flip chart. “Let’s approach this in terms of testing… the techniques we’ll adopt, the concepts we’re interested in, the textures, the ingredients, and the at times whimsical deconstruction if need be.” She underlined the key words. “The process of exploration, touching, tasting and analyzing will lead us first to a prototype and then to a refined final dish.”

Dannie chuckled. “It’s been said that chefs are actually better at tasting than cooking…” Others found his quip funny as well. “Mr McElroy junior, being a sommelier you undoubtedly know what you’re talking about but let me assure you, in my kitchen everyone will be at the top of their game,” Carol snapped back starchily. “We aim at understanding the food we serve both gastronomically and scientifically. We will study each and every aspect of it to get the flavor combinations not just right but far beyond the realm of formerly understood possibilities.” Dannie looked embarrassed but Carol kept on going. “Our dishes and the techniques involved in their creation must engage our guests’ sensory, emotional and intellectual faculties.” The room fell silent.       

The rest of the day was spent going through the different alternatives for proteins on the menu.

"Excuse me, chef..." Miss Cantrell approached Carol at the end of the first day. "Yes?" The young woman seemed to be struggling to find the right words. "I happen to know a promising young chef who is currently out of work. She is incredibly talented, I wouldn’t say a word if she weren’t truly amazing...” Genevieve took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry to butt in on you like this but would you by any chance have an opening for her? Anything at all? Even an internship of some sort?” Her eyes were pleading.

Carol was irritated to say the least. She hated to be put against the wall. Miss Cantrell had quite a nerve to even suggest something like this, and where was Abby when she needed her the most? She wouldn’t listen to this kind of nonsense. “Who is this person? What kind of experience does she have?” she asked somewhat rudely. “She has just graduated from the American Culinary Institute so she doesn’t really have much experience yet…” Great, another anointed, over-educated burger-flipper, Carol fumed silently.

“Miss Cantrell, have I not made myself clear what kind of a place I intend to run or what gives you the idea that it is going to be some sort of a kindergarten?” she said icily. Crushed, Genevieve pursed her lips. “Miss Gerhard is currently hiring waiters so if your friend or whoever she is knows her way around dining room, have her contact maître d’”, Carol summed up and turned away to leave.

When they were almost ready to finish for the day Abby came over. “Carol, spare me a minute, will you?” She had a grave look on her face. “What is it? Something wrong?” Carol asked wondering why her friend was staring at her oddly. “I don’t know. You tell me,” Abby started, “You’re scaring them and it’s no good. You need to win them on your side, not push them away at this point. I know you’re high-strung right now but this is not the way to accomplish this.” Carol leaned against one of the chrome counters of the spic-and-span test kitchen.

“So male chefs are headstrong creative geniuses but I’m just a bitch, right?” She sounded aggravated. “I’m not saying it at all and you know it. There are assholes and there are bitches but I don’t think you need to be one. Not right now. You will probably need your volatile temper eventually but for God’s sake, cut them some slack!” Abby looked desperate.

“Fine.” Carol bit her lower lip and slowly unbuttoned her chef coat. She wasn’t in the mood to continue this conversation or be further lectured about her behavior. Taking her jacket and handbag, she walked towards the back door. Outside she saw Genevieve waiting for her ride. As she was about to pass her by, Carol stopped abruptly. “That friend of yours you mentioned about,” she hesitated, “tell her to drop by first thing tomorrow morning. Let’s see if she’s any good.”

Next morning Carol came to the test kitchen exceptionally early. It was hardly past 6.30 when she sat at the counter having her morning espresso. Leafing through her notes for the day she was startled to hear the doorbell ring. Who the fuck can be here at this hour? she wondered. Her team wasn’t supposed to arrive for another hour.    

She abandoned her solitude reluctantly and went to open the door. A young woman stood behind it her back turned against her. “Yes?” Carol inquired hoping the unexpected guest would just go away as quickly as she had come. Hearing her voice, the stranger turned around and smiled shyly at Carol. She had a brown hair, a pair of deepening dimples and a remarkably youthful outlook that made guessing her true age virtually impossible.

Carol recognized her instantly as the girl in her guest lecture. Even after two years her features were still vividly imprinted on her mind even though she hadn’t known it until now. She is lovely, Carol mused, and the realization of her own thought had a strange effect on her. She wasn’t simply surprised, she was charmed by her appearing at her doorstep. You don’t even know who she is, Carol scolded herself. Stop this foolishness and act your age.

“Good morning,” the unknown woman said. Her voice was pleasant, yet not overtly cheerful for such an upbeat behavior would’ve certainly annoyed Carol. “My friend asked me to come here first thing this morning.” For a moment Carol was astonished. “Your friend?” she asked still trying to come to terms with her standing in front of her. “My friend Genevieve, Genevieve Cantrell.” Carol remembered the quick conversation with her pastry chef. “You must be the person she was talking about then? The unemployed one,” Carol pondered out loud. “I’m afraid I am,” the woman replied apologetically.

“Well, come on in. I did promise Genevieve to take a look at you,” Carol said regretting her poor choice of words the minute she noticed her blushing uncomfortably. She led her to the kitchen and motioned her to take a seat at the counter. “I’m tempted to offer you coffee but I won’t, not just yet, because you’ll need to keep your palate clean for now.” Carol fixed her gray eyes on her guest. “I’m Carol Aird but I assume you knew it already?” she started hoping her opening line would get the girl talking. “Therese, Therese Belivet,” the young woman replied courteously.

“What a lovely name… what kind of name is it?” Really, Carol? “It’s Czech, it was originally…” the girl commenced – “It’s very original… Terez Belivet… is that how you say it?” You’re honestly flirting with a girl who looks like she’s a minor? “Yes, the French way. Like you just did.” What next, may I ask? You’re going to ask her to visit you next weekend? – Oh shut up, Carol muttered under her breath. The girl, no, the woman named Therese Belivet looked at her closely, just like she had done two years ago. Suddenly the relentlessness of her stare jolted Carol back to action. She remembered who she was and the reason why Miss Belivet had shown up in the first place.

“I’m not sure what we can offer you in terms of employment,” Carol spoke sounding perfectly professional. She had just been taken aback by a peculiar happenstance, she decided. “Before even addressing this question in any further detail we must however find out if you have what it takes to begin with.” Therese remained quiet expecting Carol to elaborate on the subject. Very well. “I would like to test your palate a bit. I’ll let you taste certain dishes I have at hand, and then you’ll analyze their composition as thoroughly as possible. Is this okay?” Smiling once more, Therese Belivet nodded. “I’m ready.”

Carol fetched a few things from two huge refrigerators and set them in front of Therese. The white jars had no labels on them. “One more thing, you will have to do this with a blindfold.” The girl agreed without saying a word.

“This is not an easy task so don’t be alarmed if you have hard time with it. Even the best of chefs have at times tripped over the most basic tastes.” She put the blindfold over Therese’s eyes her fingers fleetingly touching her temples and the back of her head. The girl flinched when her hands brushed against her skin as if she’d been dealt a light electric shock. She looks adorable even with her eyes covered, occurred to Carol who lost her concentration for a second. To be able to stare at Therese without her knowing it seemed like an inappropriate pleasure, though.

“Here, taste this,” Carol said bringing the spoon on her lips. The dimples on Therese’s cheeks made a delightful comeback. “Take your time, savor it in your mouth.” The girl did what was asked of her while Carol watched her intently. She was nearly out of breath hoping the brunette wouldn’t get it entirely wrong the first time. “Umm… protein’s obviously duck, seared in its own fat… salt and black pepper of course… thyme, honey, a hint of garlic, carrot, I think, and celeriac… definitely celeriac,” Therese listed confidently, “not forgetting the delightful ravioli casing… oh, and was that raspberry I just tasted? In the thyme sauce?”

Carol couldn’t believe her own ears. The girl got everything right. “Did I do okay?” she asked. “Ehm… yes, you did good… let’s try something harder.” Carol topped the spoon with a bite of a fish ballottine and sorbet she had toyed with the day before. “Mackerel, right?” Right. “And you’ve made the sorbet out of… tinned sardines and bread?” Carol couldn’t help but smile. “I absolutely love this combo… let’s see, the rest of the sorbet is a no-brainer with whole milk, gelatin and – maltodextrin? Salt, pepper… malic acid? Love the garlicky, ginger marinated dash of daikon in here… soy sauce, sesame oil, lime… a lot of lime going on in here,” Therese pointed out. “Not too much?” Carol asked worried. “Oh no, just the perfect amount,” the girl grinned. “And I bet there’s a lot more to this as well but in this spoonful that was pretty much it,” she concluded. It was.

Carol removed the blindfold and gazed once again into Therese’s green eyes. Needless to say, she was very impressed.

Chapter Text

“What the hell is this, Carol? You’re doing the hiring on your own now?” Abby whispered to her when the rest of the team was getting ready for the second day. She sounded agitated. “Relax, Abby, I’m doing this as a favor to Genevieve… You yourself told me I should be more open and friendly.” Carol tried to keep her voice as laid-back as possible. “Yes, I told you to cut them some slack not hire their friends and relatives to work here!” Abby was visibly upset. “Chrissakes, Carol, this is the workshop, remember? What is she going to do? Wash pots while we get ready for the important stuff?” Carol let out a little, disconcerting laugh.

“I haven’t actually hired her, I just told her she could sit in, maybe learn a little while we go about our business here. And she passed the taste test with flying colors. I’ve never seen anything like it, she was incredible…” Carol pointed out. “She’s incredible all right,” Abby snorted glaring at the beautiful young woman chatting with Genevieve. “That’s what bothers me the most.”

Carol ignored her quip unwilling to have this sort of conversation right there and then or at any time, really, she realized.  “It’s my decision and you’ll have to live with it,” she said emphatically. “Anyway, she might be of use to us, a fresh pair of eyes and an attitude unspoiled by previous restaurant experience.” That’s one way of putting it, I suppose, she thought hoping Abby would let her weak argument slide. Scoffing, her maître d’ retreated to her own station.

"We are all preoccupied with taste. It goes with the territory, right?" Carol attempted to smile when they were ready to commence. "As chefs we must of course obsess over flavors but the taste is by no means the only thing that charms us about food... or about anything, for that matter." She glanced somewhat nervously at Therese who was standing behind one of the counters they used for prepping produce.

"When we are seated at the table in a restaurant, a multitude of sensations has already taken over us. What was it like to step inside the establishment, its decor, the mood of the staff, the linens, crystal glasses, plates and cutlery set before us". Creating a vivid atmosphere, Carol leaned against her table. "The beauty of the anticipation when we're about to experience something that we hope will take our breath away..." she envisioned feeling suddenly out of breath.

"We are eager to sample what soon appears right in front of our very eyes," she continued hesitantly, "yet there's still so much going on before we get to the actual taste." Abby shifted her weight nervously from one leg to another. "First, we look at it – is this something I want? – then we smell it – is this appealing?" The girl stared at Carol intently. "And when we finally sink our teeth in it, we notice the texture – what is this? Soft, yielding, resistant? – and we may even register the sound of our chewing before our taste buds jump in." She paused for a moment averting her attention to anywhere else except to the woman gazing at her. Why won't she stop? 

Jeanette raised her hand. “So what is it you’re saying? Are we in fact putting too much emphasis on taste to begin with?” Carol shook her head impatiently. “No, of course not. What I’m trying to stress here is that as far as the dining experience is concerned, taste is probably one of the last senses engaged.” From the corner of her eye she saw the girl nodding feverishly. “Is there something you’d like to add, Therese?” Carol asked turning to face her.

The girl seemed slightly embarrassed by the enthusiasm she had just shown. “Yes, if you don’t mind…” she started. “I agree with you completely, and I think the whole of it is just this amazingly existential, sensual experience, something we don’t really fully understand…” Therese was looking for the right words. “Our bodies are receptors trying to grasp what’s going on inside our mouths, and the language we try to describe it with, is seriously lacking.” Carol was eager to have her continue. “Savoring the taste is a temporal process with all the highs and lows of it, the intensities and complexities, how long it lasts et cetera,” Therese volunteered.

“You make it sound awfully sexy!” Dannie shouted out grinning. “It is, isn’t it?” Therese replied quietly. “Our bodies are always interested in stimulation, don’t you think? They’re physiologically trained to go after it.” Is the fucking air conditioning on at all? occurred to Carol out of the blue. “So what we’re doing here starting a restaurant and designing food is actually a form of foreplay and real action combined?” Genevieve quipped grinning unabashedly. “Well, it sounds a bit crude put that way but basically yes, we do want to disarm our clients, make them aware of…” she stopped abruptly. “Aware of what?” Carol inquired hastily.

“In my opinion, you’ve left out the most important word from your list,” Therese said pointing at the yesterday’s musings on the flip chart. Approaching Carol, she motioned towards the marker on the table. “May I..?” Being granted the permission, she picked it up and slowly wrote her contribution on the chart.

“Rapture.”

“Who’s turn is it to make team lunch today?” Abby asked when they were done for the morning session. “I think it’s Genevieve’s,” Tommy replied nodding towards the brunette who was busy talking to Therese. “No, it isn’t! It’s Jeanette’s turn…” she corrected emphatically. “Wrong! It is your turn, don’t you dare wiggle your way out of it,” Jeanette laughed out loud.

The disagreement getting on her nerves already, Carol was about to put an end to it but before she had a chance to say a word, another voice chimed in. “I can do it, I don’t mind – if it’s okay with you guys?” Therese looked around to see how the others felt about her offer. “Isn’t this sweet,” Abby retorted, “the new girl  wants to impress us, and impress she must…” Carol didn’t like her tone of voice at all. “I, for one, think it’s very kind of you to volunteer, so please, go ahead and put us out of this misery of apparent miscommunication…” She cast a disappointed look at Genevieve and Jeanette.

After about half an hour the team sat down to eat the lunch Therese had whipped up – a light vegetarian pasta dish accompanied by a delicious herb spiced rack of lamb. Making damn sure no one noticed, Carol had observed Therese cooking. Having first quickly sautéed the spiced rack in the pan, she had put the lamb in the oven. Making the fresh pasta dough, her fingers had bounced on its soft surface so gently yet determinedly it had made Carol nearly gasp out of sheer delight.

The dough ready, Therese minced the garlic and the red chili and put them in a bowl. Squeezing the juice of a lime on top of them coated her fingertips with its sour essence. Having chopped the avocados and the basil to join the ready ingredients, she finished the end result with salt, pepper and the generous helpings of both grated pecorino and parmesan cheese. Carol noticed her looking around, searching for something. “Anything I can do for you?” she asked gently. ”Umm… I thought I had the olive oil right here with me but I seem to have misplaced it…” Therese looked puzzled. “Oh, they’re here,” Carol said noticing two bottles of oil on the side table. “Which one do you want? The regular?” She was on her way to pick the bottle up when she noticed Therese looking at her tenaciously. “No, the extra virgin one.”  

The food tasted spectacular. The acidic, spicy avocado pasta had a quirky, upbeat charm of its own. Like spring in a bowl, Carol thought suppressing a smile too broad. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits sipping the full-bodied Shiraz Dannie had brought in to complement their lovely afternoon feast. The lamb was cooked to perfection – even Tommy, the meat expert, had to agree on it. Carol couldn’t utter a single syllable for she was too busy concentrating on each marvelous bite of the medium rare meat melting in her mouth.           

After the lunch break Carol suggested they spent the rest of the day talking about the à la carte menu. It would be a good way to start before tackling the more ambitious side of their endeavor, she mused out loud. “Besides, lunch and à la carte bar menu is nothing to be frowned upon. We will most likely make the lion’s share of our money out of the folks sampling them instead of the more serious culinary fare.” 

They settled upon eight different categories available both at the bar and in the dining room during lunch hour. “Let’s divide into smaller groups to think these through… Philip and Thomas, you take fish and meat, Genevieve and Abby, sweets and pasta, Dannie and I will briefly go over the cocktails plus wine list and the snacks, and Jeanette – hmm… you better pair with Therese for vegetables and salads, okay?”

Carol and Dannie agreed on pretty much everything. He would have a list of proposed cocktails ready by the end of the week as well as the artisanal beer selection. The wines would have to wait till he got a better understanding of their respective menus. “But I’ll have enough time, don’t worry. I got this covered,” he assured Carol in his easygoing manner. The restaurant would stay open for business for 12 hours straight starting at noon, and the happy hour would take place between 2:30 to 7 pm, he suggested. Carol had no objections whatsoever.  

Phil and Tommy proposed they do at least the “Market Fish of the Day” in various forms, the prawns with Romesco  sauce, grilled calamari, confit duck leg, rotisserie chicken sandwich and steak frites with beef mayo. Abby had so far only come up with the bright idea of spaghetti with clams, Genevieve was more attuned to her own specialty – she suggested at least ice cream and sorbets as well as a seasonal cobbler for à la carte.       

Going over to Jeanette and Therese’s table, Carol noticed they had written down quite a lot already. She asked to see their notes and liked them so far. Squash and beet carpaccio, soup of the day, arugula and ricotta salad…

“It is all very nice, and I like it, but every once in a while I feel the vegetable line-up lacks some serious substance,” Therese started interrupting her reading. “All these salads and soups are fine but choosing a vegetarian alternative shouldn’t mean having to limit oneself to the obvious.”

Looking grave, Carol nodded. “You’re right. How would you fix it then?” she wanted to know. Therese smiled self-consciously. “There are several alternatives, of course, but if you’re interested in specific dish suggestions, one seems to come off the top of my head right now…” Carol was very interested indeed.

“My grandma used to make this 1950’s dish – creamed spinach with poached eggs on top – and I just loved it as a kid.” Therese remembered her smile widening. “There was certain heartiness to the fare I relished, and I’m thinking we could do something similar? With a modern twist, of course.” Carol could already see it as well. “Something along the lines of Eggs Florentine, perhaps? With some goat cheese maybe?” she sketched tentatively. “Yes, yes – exactly!” Therese was positively beaming at her. “Let’s go for it then, write it down,” she urged putting the notebook back on the table. Her hands slightly shaky, she was more than happy to let someone else use the pen.              

The day finally done, Carol was exhausted. She poured whatever little was left in a forgotten Shiraz bottle in her glass and sat down at the counter. Aware of someone staring at her, her heart leapt. Abby, she noticed somewhat disappointed. “Do try to hide your enthusiasm, my dear,” Abby said looking morosely at the empty bottle. “Is there anything to drink around here?” Carol motioned towards the fridge. “There should be at least beer Dannie brought the other day…” she offered.

“Beer… never understood the fascination,” Abby sighed dishearteningly. “How about we go for a cocktail? I think we accomplished quite a lot today.” Carol looked the other way. “Not tonight, Abby. I have Rindy, and I need to get back home.” Her friend didn’t seem too pleased with her answer. “Didn’t you say she wasn’t due back for another two hours?” For fuck’s sake…

“I’m tired, it’s been a long day and I’m really not in the mood for this right now…” she said not able to hide the irritation evident in her voice. “Not in the mood for what?” Abby snapped back. Carol braced herself for yet another awkward moment. “Please, Abby… just let it go, just this once, please,” her pained voice was hardly audible. Carol couldn’t face her friend, couldn’t look her straight into the eyes so she kept her gaze down seeing only a pair of legs in front of her, trying desperately to decide the right course of action and then, all too rapidly, moving away from her.

When Rindy got back home, Carol was already there. “Hey, sweet pea,” she said in her gentlest voice, “I could sure use a hug.” Rindy wrapped her arms around her but their embrace was far too short-lived, Carol thought. She grows up too fast, she acquiesced letting her run up to her room. “Are you hungry?” she yelled after her but got no answer. Very well, there wasn’t really anything in the fridge either, she remembered.

Carol took a shower and went over her notes for the next day. The incident with Abby weighted heavily on her shoulders but there was nothing she could do about it right now. All she needed was a good night’s sleep and everything would look better in the morning.

She was drunk, not roaringly drunk but drunk enough, and she could still taste the exquisite dessert in her mouth. The surprising black pepper on the luscious, caramelized pineapple twirled inside her mouth like a tipsy dervish. She commented on it to Abby who laughed since it made no sense. It was a stream of her consciousness, after all, a mere preliminary fumbling to form an opinion, to express her delight. The late night lights of this part of the city hurt her eyes and she had to lean onto her to maintain her balance. Her eyes were watery and everything around her a blur. Abby squeezed her hand and she took comfort in it.

She had no idea how they got to Abby’s apartment or why she had agreed to go there in the first place. Once inside she stood in the corridor which seemed to go on and on its dimensions peculiarly distorted. Why does she have a framed picture of Rindy?  Carol thought looking around the oddly familiar room. When she looked at the photo again it had changed into a picture of her as a hapless twentysomething all flushed from a game of tennis. Her face had no creases on it only eagerness to smile and please whoever had taken the photograph. And while she was looking she felt Abby’s lips on her collarbone, her hands peeling away the overcoat, opening the buttons of her top. She didn’t resist in any way though she didn’t collaborate either.

Next thing she knew she was lying on her back on the mattress with nothing on, her bare limbs shivering of both cool air breezing in from the balcony and of Abby’s thick curls tickling her all over. She opened her mouth to protest but grunted instead. The room was spinning in her head and she felt slightly nauseous before giving in to another sensation completely. Abby’s mouth between her thighs she found it hard to remain composed in any way even though each stroke of her tongue seemed to both alarm as well as pleasure her incessantly.

Pulling the fitted sheet from the corners of the bed she let herself go, knowing fully well the denial of this ever having happened was waiting her in the very next moment. No, Carol wanted to shout out, nearing her release and raising her upper body to take in what was happening to her. The word didn’t get articulated, though, since the hand pressing her back down wasn’t Abby’s at all nor was the head or mouth doing the trick she desired the most. And before even fully grasping who her thin-wristed, slender-bodied tormentor was, she felt the violent current of pleasure surge through her guts. A cry escaping her lips, she observed a delicate shadow moving up, pressing against the entire length of her body. “You’ve left out the most important word,” the angel-like apparition spoke its dimple-cheeked face drawing near by the second…

The alarm went off like a gun demolishing her dream into sharp, bittersweet shrapnel. Carol sat up in the bed her heart pounding like a hammer hitting an anvil. The insides of her thighs sticky, she felt the elusive, blunt aftermath of her uninvited release. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… her shoulders shuddering noticeably she buried her face in her hands.

Chapter Text

Carol couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling the dream had stirred within her. The image of Therese suddenly signifying her sexual fulfillment was way too much. Somehow the girl got to her, she thought deliberately avoiding any further scrutiny of her messed up feelings. First it had been Abby and then it had changed into the girl she hardly knew at all. It just goes to show I should’ve slept with anyone instead of my best friend, she decided. I was horrible to her, she regretted willing to make amends as soon as they would meet again.

Abby deserved better even if the only better thing Carol could offer her would be to try to explain her mistake and apologize profusely for her selfish and careless behavior six months ago. They needed to talk things through, to find common ground, for when the two of them were truly able to join forces they were a tremendous force to be reckoned with. Ever since they were kids Abby had been the outspoken, the more determined one of the two them. She had talked sense into her, comforted her in her dire need. They had to find a way to get out of this morass.

The past two years had been trying, and only after securing the finances for the restaurant, had Carol felt more like herself again. Finally she had something to look forward to, something she could pour her heart and soul into. It was all she needed – the restaurant she could call her own and Rindy, of course. Everything else would be a mere distraction.

Carol was fine with the way her life was turning out to be. Yes, it was hard and there was so much to do before the grand opening, and it wasn’t like she could just rest on her laurels afterwards either. The moment I start thinking I’m there, that I’ve mastered my craft, the game is over – I’ll start dying inside and losing my hold of it. Finally running the business on a daily basis, it all starts anew – the creative process to keep the chefs on top of their game. Every single dish leaving her kitchen must be thought through, justified and inspired, she decided. There was no room for slacking, not for one second, she recognized making a mental note to stress its importance to her team as well. 

When Carol arrived at the test kitchen, she found Abby talking to Therese in the storage room. She couldn’t make out what they were chatting about but both seemed to enjoy it. She felt like backing away but was caught by Therese’s gaze just as she was about to do so. “Good morning,” the girl said in her quiet, appealing manner that made Carol remember the words she had said in her dream.

Nodding hastily, she breezed by muttering only a few unintelligible words under her breath. Cheeks burning, Carol chastised herself for acting clumsily even as it was still happening. Hot flashes already? she wondered depressed by the fact she was turning forty right after the opening of the restaurant. I wonder how old she actually is? occurred to her inexplicably.

After a while Abby came to see her. “How are you this morning? You didn’t look too good coming in…” she started. Great. “Oh, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Carol looked at Abby hoping her feigned nonchalance would convince her of her calm and collected state of mind. “What were you two talking about?” she asked Abby some time later. “Nothing really, I was just complimenting her rack…” What the fuck? Carol shot a sharp, disapproving glance at her friend. “Her rack of lamb, the one she did yesterday… Jesus, Carol, sometimes I think you have no sense of humor left anymore. You should see your face...” Abby was laughing at her shamelessly. “She’s actually a really nice kid, and I was unnecessarily hard on her yesterday. I just wanted her to know I valued her contribution,” she added wistfully. Carol wasn’t sure if she liked what she was hearing. “Well, I think I have a pretty good intuition when it comes to these things… she’s a bright young woman who seems to know her way around kitchen.” Hearing such a platitude come out of her mouth, Carol winced inwardly.

“She is young, turning 25 the day after tomorrow,” Abby quipped good-naturedly. “Imagine being that age once again!” Oh my god, I’m a fucking cradle robber in my dreams! Carol did her best not to let her friend see the terror building up inside her. “I’m glad I’m not anymore, what a confusing age…” she retorted rather bluntly rummaging the insides of her handbag for her lipstick and compact.

Abby was in no hurry to go anywhere, it seemed. “I bet she’s going to have a festive weekend ahead, tomorrow being our day off and all.” Finding what she had been looking for, Carol turned around to face her friend once more. She wasn’t looking forward to their break – in fact she was determined to put it in good use right here in the test kitchen.

“Abby, I’m sorry about yesterday. I was being rude. I think we ought to have a serious conversation… soon,” she started looking for signs of approval on her face. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for the kind of conversation I think you mean,” Abby replied somberly. “But I appreciate your apology… you can be a real bitch sometimes, you know.” She looked so sad and hurt Carol wanted to hug her desperately even though she had just called her a bitch. She didn’t however dare to touch Abby, not this very minute, since she appeared way too fragile to be approached in any tender way. “I know.” This would have to do for now, Carol decided.

She’s fifteen years younger than me, pounded in Carol’s head when she gathered her troops around the main table. Fifteen years, bloody hell! She tried to concentrate but kept losing her train of thought. Why the fuck am I even thinking about it? She pulled herself together. I am a grown woman not some silly schoolgirl with a hopeless crush, Carol fumed silently. Crush? No, no, no, no!

Therese stood on her left side, not particularly close in any way but when Dannie and Tommy took their places in their tiny circle, their squeezing in brought every one closer to one another. Carol felt Therese’s arm brush softly against hers, and she couldn’t help but turn and face her. The girl made no attempt to move away, she held her place stubbornly though Carol was certain she wasn’t entirely comfortable either.

Afterwards Carol wasn’t sure what possessed her to do what she did – maybe it was a case of opportunity making a thief once more – but before she knew it, she had rested her hand lightly on the small of her back. She noticed the stiffening of the girl’s frame, the sudden fluster, the slight change of color on her face. It was so sudden and over so soon, it could’ve been accidental, Carol assured herself. I didn’t mean to do it but I couldn’t help myself.     

“Genevieve has graciously promised to give us a sneak preview of her delectable art. She will make one of the desserts displayed on the lunch and à la carte menu,” Carol introduced placing her arm over Genevieve’s shoulder in a fashion she hoped would exude easy familiarity. Hell, she would touch each and every one of her team just to make it clear to Therese her bold move wasn’t in any way out of character! You’d rather be groping everyone than give yourself away, is that it? Surprised by Carol’s carefree gesture, Genevieve started her turn rather clumsily at first.

“I… I have – umm, well, quite a few ideas for the sweet world as I like to call it,” she blurted out self-consciously. “And since Saturday is Therese’s birthday, I thought we could use a cake to celebrate it with. After all, we’re not going to be here tomorrow…” She went about her business her voice growing confident again.

“I will make you a chocolate truffle cake with ginger sauce,” Genevieve said smiling at Therese. “The rest of you may taste it as well,” she added gleefully. “And make no mistake, this is not one of your run-of-the-mill chocolate cakes, this is the cake to lead you to the chocolate addicts’ heaven.” The boys looked awfully pleased, especially Phil who was known to have a serious sweet tooth.

“This is not an easy pudding either, so to speak. It will require several steps before the magnificent, final assembly. First, we’ll prepare the chocolate genoise which will provide the base of the cake…” Genevieve took a bowl with pale, foamy substance in it. “I have already beaten eggs and sugar, and as you can see the original volume has trebled by now.”

She lifted the electric wire whisk to show how the batter ran off it. “This is known as the ribbon stage… you see how languidly the dripping substance lingers on the surface of the rest of the batter. You can almost use it to write your name on it…” Genevieve formed a large “T” making Therese grin. “And now we’ll tackle the first difficult part – Therese, although you are the birthday girl, you are here to learn as well so I’ll let you do this.”

She handed her another bowl containing mixed flour and cocoa. “The tricky thing is not to lose the fluffiness of the batter when sifting the dry ingredients in.” She urged Therese to take over. “Now, use your hand to fold the flour mix in… slowly, carefully, plunging deeper… don’t rush, take your time,” Genevieve instructed. The delicate, nimble fingers pushed into the luscious batter only to rise again to the surface. It was quiet all of a sudden, only Abby suppressing an unexpected cough.

“Rotate the bowl, gently, gently… don’t lose the plush feel, and now, slowly, achingly slowly withdraw your fingers.” The thin-wristed hand emerged from the depth heavily coated in creamy fluid. I’ll have an anxiety attack any minute now, flashed through Carol’s brain. “Was that okay?” Therese asked dipping her batter-covered fingers in her mouth one after another.

Although her question was aimed at Genevieve she glanced at Carol as well. A dab of foamy residue had stuck on the corner of her mouth. “You have something… right there,” Carol attempted helplessly. “What?” Therese asked curiously. “There…” Carol motioned towards her lips. Not moving a finger, the girl stared at her questioningly. Carol raised her hand slowly and wiped the foam away. Her skin felt unusually warm under her gentle thumb.         

“While the sponge is in the oven, we’ll make both the white chocolate truffle and the dark chocolate truffle…” Genevieve winked her eye at the boys. “Okay!” yelled Phil high-fiving his brother. “To melt the chocolate – I’m using Valrhona here – we’ll use the bain-marie, a bowl sitting in a pan of simmering water – we don’t want to scorch the delicious thing, now do we..?” Genevieve proceeded to beat the heavy cream waiting for her on the other table. “Soft peaks, remember, you mustn’t overwork it into a too stiff or a buttery substance.” She moved next to the stove to check on the chocolate.

“Before you bring these two together – the dark, melted chocolate and the luscious, airy cream – you have to make sure their temperatures match.” Carol noticed Abby looking a bit confused. “If the former is too hot, the latter will re-liquify – if too cool, they will refuse to mix altogether.” Genevieve wiggled her eyebrows. “Like that’s ever gonna happen, right?”

“When we’re finished with the truffles we’re ready to crown the genoise base. I will moisten it properly – I don’t want our birthday girl to sink her teeth into anything dry and unyielding,” she laughed dousing the bottom with diluted brandy. She spread a generous amount of the white chocolate truffle on it and leveled the surface with a spatula. The dark chocolate truffle followed right after.

“The ginger sauce made with stem ginger in syrup will compliment the cake perfectly, and I actually have it here ready. Nothing like a spoonful of tangy heat to spice up a seriously rich mouthful…” Genevieve was very pleased with herself and she gratefully accepted the accolades thrown her way.

“Umm… thank you, Genevieve,” Carol started trying to focus on anything else except chocolate and cream. “While we wait for the cake’s flavors to set in, we should get back to some more serious business…”

Later when they were getting ready to mark Therese’s upcoming birthday, Jeanette had a troubled look on her face. “What is it, sweetie?” Genevieve asked her. “It’s just that we’re so early in the process and I keep thinking what if we – well, what if I hit the wall? Get stuck while trying to find a creative solution?”

Carol overheard them while she was bringing champagne flutes to the table. “We all get stuck at times, and it’s actually an important phase in our creativity, the most important I dare say,” she consoled her. “Nothing truly good or exciting can ever be accomplished if you choose to remain within your comfort zone.” Carol’s smile was encouraging.

“You have to be prepared, though – you have to know your ingredients,” she pointed out noticing a fourth person sneaking in to join their conversation. “Chance favors the prepared mind”, Therese stated eloquently. “Pasteur, right?” Carol smiled hearing the familiar quotation. “Yes,” Therese confirmed appearing absolutely radiant. “Creativity stems from preparedness, it’s never a mere fluke.” Jeanette folded her arms not quite convinced yet.

“A dish is always a resolution to a problem, something we finally come up with because we want to satisfy a specific craving, isn’t it?” Carol wanted Jeanette to grasp what she was trying to get across. “If you’re stuck, you go back to basics, to the starting point which is the ingredient.”

Carol motioned everyone to get together. “Listen, there’s something I want to say to all of you before we begin our little celebration,” she smiled at Therese her gray eyes flickering curiously, “it has to do with this journey we’ve started together.” She paced the floor pensively for a moment suddenly understanding what she needed to do.

“At this stage a lot remains a blur and all we have is our intuition. Don’t be afraid of the blur, see it as an opportunity, a challenge.” Carol looked around her eyes finally settling on Therese. “Some of you may have guessed the trouble I’ve had trying to secure a sous chef… well, you’ve guessed right, it’s been a sheer nightmare.” She had the full attention of her team members.

“I’ve been struggling with this question for so long, and until now I’ve been so far off the mark, it’s positively embarrassing.” Abby pushed her way to the front row. She looked very worried as if sensing something unpleasant to unfold. “A real solution, any answer to our fervent prayers, can be found only if we shut our minds off to all the mundane distractions…” Carol knew Abby would have a fit but she had made up her mind. “When we enter the flow state, the portals of creativity swing wide open, and we’ll finally see what needs to be done, be it food or even – people.”

Dannie having filled everyone’s glass with Moët Chandon Brut Imperial, Carol raised her flute to a toast. “Here’s to the birthday girl – who I hope will grant me the honor of being my sous chef as well…” Dead silence filled the room. “Therese, would you be interested in becoming my number one?” Carol should have said number two, a Freudian slip noted by every one except the two people in question.

Therese looked at Carol with an incredulous half-smile on her face. Soon enough her features softened remarkably, brightened up into loveliness unlike anything Carol had ever seen. “Yes, yes I would.”  

Abby glared at Carol while they were having the cake and sipping champagne. She was going to get something off her chest, and it would happen soon. For now Carol couldn’t have cared less, though, for she was basking in the sun that was Therese’s smile whenever she happened to look at her from her side of the table. I love to see her happy, Carol realized, and somehow it seemed enough - quite plenty for now. She was torn by so many conflicting emotions, so much negativity she welcomed this - whatever this was - for a little while at least. I'm not expecting anything, she told herself. And she would stand behind her unorthodox decision, come hell or high water. Therese was a prodigy, after all. 

Fetching yet another bottle from the wine cellar, Carol noticed someone standing behind the back door. A young man was peeking inside, and he looked somewhat familiar. “Can I help you?” Carol recognized him as one of the men she met almost daily at the Fulton Fish Market. “Hello, chef Aird, sorry to bother you at this late hour but I’m looking for my girlfriend…” He was glancing over her shoulder. “You must mean Jeanette or Genevieve then, I suppose?” Carol suggested. “No, I’m looking for Terry… I mean Therese Belivet,” said Richard Semco from the Semco Seafood Inc.

The champagne bottle slipped out of Carol’s hand.

Chapter Text

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid… Carol pushed her foot on the pedal of her dark blue Tesla hoping her newly acquired dream car would transport her to another dimension. The bloody word just wouldn’t leave her alone. Stupid – accompanied by such charmers as childish, adolescent, naïve and obviously fucking blind – for that’s exactly what she was.

I told you to snap out of it in the very beginning and what did you do, you bloody idiot? Carol felt a sudden sharp pain inside her guts. Other than made a total fool out of yourself? Ashamed, she squinted her eyes. Oh yeah, you went ahead and made her the second most important person in your kitchen… Good one, Carol!

Carol had shoved the champagne bottle that luckily had had the decency to remain intact in the young man’s hand and fled the scene as soon as she possibly could. She hadn’t really offered any explanation, only texted Abby to lock up since she had no time to stay behind.

Abby had attempted to call her several times afterwards – seven to be exact – excluding the calls from an unknown number some time later. Either Abby was trying to hide her caller id or someone else was seriously getting on her nerves, she thought angrily.  “Migraine,” she had texted Abby warning her to stay away for now.

By the time she got home Carol didn’t know which hurt her more – her momentary lapse of self- control and reason or the somewhat hasty and maybe ill-advised choice she had made? It hadn’t been the right moment to make a decision of such a magnitude when it had been clearly influenced by some foolish infatuation on her part.

The bloody phone was buzzing again, but Carol had no intention of speaking with anyone just yet. Shut the fuck up, she agonized jamming the nuisance underneath the sofa cushions and sitting on top of them. 

“It was a really nice surprise, don’t you think?” Abby exclaimed when she came by the test kitchen early next morning. Carol had been slaving away since six o’clock desperate to forget all about the day before.  “What was?” she asked her voice annoyed already. “Therese’s boyfriend showing up, of course…” Carol stiffened involuntarily.

“Such a considerate hunk of a man, and obviously terribly smitten with her.” Abby was really rubbing it in. “If I were a good, Catholic, straight girl like Therese, I’d thank my lucky stars each and every day, that’s for sure,” she chuckled happily. “And probably every night as well!” she snickered paying very close attention to Carol’s reactions.

Carol placed a copper pan on the gas stove but the sound it made hitting against the cooktop was just a tad too loud. She didn’t say a word. “Any way, it was really kind of you to give him the bubbly before taking off so suddenly… and rudely, may I add.” Abby’s tone was distinctly more menacing than a moment ago. So the bloody bottle didn’t blow up in their faces after all, Carol fumed adding oil to the pan. “What the fuck were you thinking, Carol???” Abby yelled unexpectedly. “A sous-chef!? Are you mad?!” She was standing right next to her. “It was not your call to make all on your own, for fuck’s sake! But you – you went ahead and offered the job to an inexperienced waif straight out of a cooking school!”

Back off or I’ll hit you with the bloody pan. But Abby was far from finished. “You take it back right now, you hear! You call her and explain how you were way out of your head – for reasons I don’t even want to know – and you tell her why it was far too hasty and misguided in the first place.”

Abandoning the pan for now, Carol turned around very slowly. She had hard time breathing. Only fifteen minutes ago she’d been thinking the very same – how to withdraw her offer gracefully – but now she was suddenly livid. “Yeah? You’re ordering me around?” she said quietly yet the threatening quality of her words would’ve been enough to rattle anyone. “You think I offered her the post not having thought it over? Is that what you’re saying?” Carol folded her arms defiantly. “Think again, Abby. Think real hard.” She was shooting daggers at her. “And please, do your thinking somewhere else. I sure don’t want to waste my precious time fighting with you.”

She tossed a kettle holder away and sitting at the counter, picked up her pack of smokes. Visibly shaken, Abby stared at her blowing smoke rings in the air for a long time. “Sometimes, Carol, I don’t know… the way you keep shooting in your own foot, it looks like you want this to fail – you want everything to fail,” she concluded her voice breaking. “I’m not at all certain I want to be around when it happens.” Abby picked up her stuff and left.       

I’m not going to think about this now. Carol closed her eyes for a second before dumping her cigarette and picking up where she had left. She took a cast-iron skillet and heated grape-seed oil on it till it became good and hot. Having patted the scallops – she preferred the New Jersey diver ones – dry and seasoned them properly with salt and white pepper, she proceeded to brown them on the pan. Adding butter and basting the succulent morsels with it, Carol could feel her mood improving considerably. She was doing what she knew best, and if she would just keep doing it, everything else would clear up as well, she hoped.

After cooking the scallops medium rare, she let them wait on a paper-towel lined plate till she got everything else ready. Using the back of a spoon to draw a line of kohlrabi puree across the plate, Carol prepared a base for an oceanic adventure she had come up with a couple of days ago. A scallop was placed on top of the puree with pickled chanterelles and julienned scallions around it. Finishing the dish with pieces of nori and some dashi broth, the entrée turned out even more enticing she had expected.

Just when Carol was about to have a taste of it, someone rang the doorbell. What now!? she almost shouted out. Why can’t she just use her own keys, for crying out loud, she bickered preparing herself for yet another confrontation with Abby.

The intruder behind the door wasn’t Abby, it was Therese.

“Hey… hope I’m not interrupting?” she asked her green eyes wide open. Disgruntled, Carol kept the door open and let her in without a word. She walked back to the kitchen leaving the girl to make up her own mind whether it was a good idea to follow her or not. She did.

“You left so abruptly last night, I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly,” Therese started when they were both standing next to the plate flaunting the perfectly seared scallop. “Here,” Carol said ignoring her opening line. She was busy preparing another portion of her dish and pushing it in front of her. “Taste it.”

Therese took a fork and piled a bit of everything on one mouthful. “Umm… what a marvelous treat – like a salty wave of the sea lapping against your taste buds,” she smiled wiping her buttered lips with her fingers. “This scallop is perfection… the crispy top, the juicy interior,” she smiled, “and the overall look of it with the seaweed, tantalizing.” Carol’s face was expressionless.

“We could tweak it a bit, though..?” Therese suggested cautiously. “Add a bit of foam, perhaps? To give it an even more appetizing sense of an ocean”. She was treading on thin ice. “I’ve done some experiments with this hydrocolloid that turns liquid deliciously unstable – would you be interested in it?” Therese asked bravely.

“Foam… if you think it lacks something then why not, do give it a try,” Carol commented snappily. “No, don’t get me wrong – it’s already quite perfect – I’m just trying to contribute, to give my two cents, you know,” Therese hastened to point out. Quite perfect. It sounded like an oxymoron in Carol’s ears. “You are the sous-chef now, so go ahead, work your magic.”

Carol’s comment made Therese uneasy. “I meant to ask you about that,” she spoke apprehensively. “Are you sure about it? It will create controversy – and raise some serious questions whether I’m up to such an important task,” she said gravely. “Do you think you’re not up to it? Should I take it back?” Carol challenged. Blushing, Therese straightened up. “No, I’m up to it. I’m ready for it.” She stared at Carol her conviction unwavering. “Good. Let’s not talk about it anymore then.”

Carol never asked why Therese showed up at the kitchen on her day-off. Every once in a while she thought the girl was about to say something, something other than relating to cooking at hand, but each time she seemed to decide against it. Not that Carol minded, to be honest, she wasn’t looking forward to any uncomfortable confessions on her part.

She wasn’t after all interested in her private life, Carol assured herself, she couldn’t care less about Richard Semco or any other young man who might come snooping around the kitchen in the hope of catching a glimpse of her beautiful, sexy as fuck sous-chef… Put a lid on it, Carol! Get a grip, she sighed averting her eyes from Therese whose sweater had risen to reveal a patch of pale skin above her jeans while she was reaching for the top shelf.        

“Therese, there’s one thing I need to make perfectly clear.” Turning to face her chef, Therese was all ears. “I don’t appreciate anyone’s personal business intruding the workplace, it’s just improper,” Carol continued making it all sound awfully professional. “So please keep it at bay. I don’t want any significant others crowding the premises when it’s already quite packed as it is.” She nearly coughed the last words out.

“Oh you mean Richard?” Therese asked quickly. “He’s not really my boyfriend.” Carol was glad she had her back turned to her at the moment she said it. “He would like to be… hell, he would like to marry me but I’m not ready to make that kind of a commitment.” Therese paused for a moment. “Not to him anyway”. A sound of a bowl dropping on the floor made Carol turn around. Therese looked startled. “I may know my way around the kitchen and I sure know what I want to order for lunch but other than that…” Her voice trailed off. She’s rambling, Carol thought inexplicably terrified by what she had just heard. Don’t you dare go there, she scolded herself for letting her mind wander to things other than opening the restaurant, coming up with new dishes, cooking and being creative about it.   

“We two should discuss the entirety of the meal, the dining experience,” Carol suggested a while later. “It’s important we two are on the same page, so to speak, don’t you think?” Therese nodded eagerly. “Absolutely.” Carol attempted to smile but only the corners of her mouth seemed to twitch uncontrollably.

“While planning a meal, we should take into careful consideration what we are trying to get across…” Carol started for lack of a better word. “An amuse bouche is a fleeting show-off,” she continued. “You mean like a flirtation?” she heard the girl say. Carol looked at Therese sharply and for a fraction of a second she had no idea how to respond to it. “Well, I guess you could put it that way… yes, a fleeting flirt,” she consented. “But a convincing one,” she added nevertheless. “We may do several amuses… many restaurants do, you know.” Carol could feel Therese looking at her very intently. “Something to whet the appetite,” Therese acknowledged candidly.

“Maybe we could approach this as a symphony?” Carol pointed out wanting to keep her own head clear. “Yes,” Therese replied, “Definitely a symphony – a one with several movements differing in style, mood and tempo. One with a quirky, charming prelude, a slow opening, a magnificent, long crescendo right before the climax, and then – a sweet aftermath.”

Christ! I just have a dirty mind, that’s all, she’s making perfectly valid points. “Exactly. The entrees should be lighter in tone, giving subtle hints as to what is to follow,” Carol elaborated. “But we don’t want them boring either, do we?” Therese asked searching her gray eyes. “They should still be scintillating and daring in their own right,” she offered her remarkable face giving off light. You are something else, Carol nearly blurted out. It was hot in the kitchen, the burners radiating heat she had hard time handling for the moment.

“The sumptuous composition of taste, presentation, color and aroma… the subtle nuances and surprising high notes, the baseline of a meal – we need the solos and the backup,” Carol hurried along. “All the right choices at the right moments,” Therese nodded, “the epiphany the amuse bouche promises, the harmony how dishes fit together, the flow of them coming together and finding their perfect place,” she continued breathlessly, “the ingenuity of the composition and the wonder it evokes – it all builds up to this sense of revered mystique which eventually erupts into rapture that is nothing less than transcendent…” Carol stared at Therese wondering how she could’ve ever pegged her as tongue-tied before. She sure had a way with words. I have never been this turned-on in my entire life, flashed through her brain. 

Chapter Text

On Saturday morning, Carol slept in. She woke up refreshed and happy to have the apartment all to herself. Rindy was spending the weekend at her father’s house in New Jersey. While making coffee she heard her phone buzz inside her handbag. Carol didn’t recognize the number but it did look familiar. After a while she realized it was the unknown caller from the night she had left the test kitchen in haste. It could be anyone, she mused, putting the phone on the table. It was way too early to call someone she might not want to talk to in the first place. It is my day-off, after all.   

Soon after the phone beeped, flashing a message briefly on its screen. Hardly lifting her gaze from the newspaper, Carol picked it up absent-mindedly. The text she had received made her heart nearly leap out of her chest.

IT’S MY BIRTHDAY AND IF CONVENIENT, THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY WOULD BE MUCH APPRECIATED @5PM @260 S 2^nd St.  -THERESE  

She is inviting me to her birthday party, Carol mused overcome by anxiety she had hard time dealing with. Should I go or not? The idea of sipping white wine with a bunch of twentysomethings didn’t quite appeal to her. Then again it wasn’t like she had other plans for the night. Would it be rude of me not to at least make an appearance?  Yes, Carol decided. She could always leave if she was feeling uncomfortable. Picking up her cell, she entered her reply.

THANKS. SEE YOU @ 5. -C

Text messages are supposed to be short and simple, Carol approved pressing the send icon. I need to get her something!  occurred to her suddenly. After a quick shower she left home having already figured out the perfect gift for Therese.

At ten to five Carol stood in front of a building she didn’t recognize. The address given had taken her to an obscure location in Brooklyn she had never heard about. It took a while for her to notice a small sign in one of the windows in the corner of the 2^nd and Havemeyer Street. Two words were painted on it – the rese – in bright, rainbow colors.

Looking at the unassuming entrance, Carol’s smile widened. She had no idea what to expect but she was confident it would be something quite amazing.

Inside she found a veritable hustle and bustle. The cooped-up space of the former factory-cum-pop up restaurant was brimming with energy, the scant staff sweating in front of the flames shooting out of the innards of an impressive cast iron stove.

“Hey, I’m so glad you could make it.” Therese smiled at Carol who hadn’t noticed her sneaking up on her. “Happy birthday,” Carol smiled back, genuinely excited to see the girl who seemed so at ease in the midst of it all. “the rese – it can’t be a mere coincidence?” Carol grinned. “No, it isn’t. This is my place, a sort of a hobby,” Therese explained. “I got together with a couple of my pals at the school and decided to give this a try, to get my feet wet in the restaurant business.” Carol looked around eager to see what her sous-chef was serving her hungry clientele. “And I bet you came up with the name of the place?” she chided playfully. “Actually, not entirely, it alludes to my name, yes, but it also refers to the Aretha Franklin song – Respect, ” Therese replied, “Aretha sings R.E.S.P.E.C.T. take out the P C T, so that leaves RESE…” she chuckled. “And we want to respect the ingredients – that’s our motto.”

She’s clever, Carol thought looking at her protégé with a renewed appreciation. Her cheeks flushed with the heat emanating from the open kitchen, Therese beamed at her. They would have probably stood there gazing into each other’s eyes if Carol hadn’t asked the question troubling her mind. “Where are the others?” The people devouring their portions at the nearby tables didn’t appear to be attending a birthday party of any sort. “Others?” Therese asked apprehensively. “You’re having a birthday party, right?” Carol shot back immediately. Smiling sheepishly, Therese bit her lip. “Oh, I’m sorry… it’s not exactly a party, well, I don’t do crowds…” she started choking on her words. “I guess I only invited you.” She had a startled look in her eyes. “I hope you’re not disappointed?” With great difficulty, Carol suppressed a smile. “No, it’s quite alright.”                      

“Tonight I want you to be the one tasting the best I can come up with,” Therese said to Carol once they were finally sitting at their table. “I’ve asked my friends to prepare this meal we are about to share.” Feeling suddenly very confident, Carol held her gaze so long the color on Therese’s face took on a deeper shade of red. “We haven’t had much luck with the air conditioning here,” she started to babble, “I’m afraid it can get very hot in here.” Still unwilling to avert her eyes, Carol focused on her companion. “I bet it can. We’ll just have to live with it, won’t we?”

The food was spectacular. They started with a roasted mushroom salad with braised pistachios and pickled sunchokes and radishes thrown in. Thick, oyster mushrooms cut lengthwise had an enticingly meaty quality to them, and the pistachio puree bed the portion was laid upon was wonderfully smooth and buttery. The main course, the marinated hanger steak, oozed flavors surrendered by soy, onion, apple juice and sesame oil. The wood-burning grill operating in the backyard had lent the sliced steak a charred and smoky charm which Carol found utterly irresistible.

While they were waiting for the dessert, Carol reached out for the gift she had picked up for Therese. “For you… darling,” Carol said handing the parcel over to Therese. The look on her face was one of surprise and girly excitement. “Oh Carol…” she blurted out, “I mean chef Aird, I’m sorry!” The blonde woman’s smile spoke volumes. “No need to be so formal… here I mean,” Carol assured, “but let’s keep it under wraps in the test kitchen.” Relieved, Therese nodded. She was anxious to open her present.        

"The Physiology of Taste: or, Meditations on Transcendental Gastronomy by Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin”, Therese read out loud. Browsing the rare, illustrated hardcover edition, she was simply overjoyed by the quintessential work on gastronomy. Seeing her so elated, Carol felt a new kind of happiness seeping through her entire being.

Without thinking it through, the brunette sprang up to her feet and wrapped her grateful arms around Carol. The unexpected embrace left her breathless and weak, and she was sure the girl would sense her excitement in their sudden proximity. Therese’s body pressed so tightly against hers made her chest heave, and she was reluctant to detach after what seemed like only a fraction of a second. Letting go, their faces came very close to one another and she felt Therese breathe erratically against her heated cheek. Suddenly aware of the people staring at them, Carol sat down afraid her legs might give away. For a moment she couldn’t look at Therese but somehow Carol knew she wasn’t being looked at either.

“I thought you should have it,” she spoke after an excruciatingly long silence. “Every chef should have a copy of Brillat-Savarin’s book.” Only now she felt brave enough to face Therese again. “Thank you, I love it,” she said her voice hoarse with emotion. Calm down, Carol coaxed herself, this is not happening – whatever you may think it is, it’s not happening. “My own copy at home is quite worn out by all the markings I’ve made”, she attempted to chuckle. “I’ve only read parts of it at school,” Therese added growing calmer now. “May I read one of my favorites to you? Now that Sam is going to bring the dessert, I think it’s only appropriate to have Brillat-Savarin’s take on the subject at hand.”

Drawing a deep breath, Therese searched for the right page.

“Number of the Senses – they are at least six… Sight which embraces space and tells us by means of light, of the existence and of the colors of the bodies around us, hearing which by the motion of the air informs us of the motion of sounding or vibrating bodies, scent – by means of which we are made aware of the odors bodies possess, taste which enables us to distinguish all that has a flavor from what is insipid, and touch which informs us of the consistency and resistance of bodies… the last is genesiac or physical love which attracts the sexes to each other…”

Is she fucking kidding me?!?  “May I have the book, please?” Carol asked eagerly not wanting to dwell on her inner thoughts. “Sure,” Therese replied curtly handing it to her. Carol could feel their fingers brush against each other, leaving burn marks on her bewildered mind. She opened the book from the page she knew very well.

“Thirst is the internal feeling of a wish to drink. Appetite is pleasant when it does not reach the point of hunger. Thirst is not so, and as soon as we feel it we are uncomfortable and anxious. When there is no possibility of appeasing it, the state of mind is terrible. Hardening thirst is the result of the increase of the want, and of the impossibility to satisfy latent thirst. It is so called because it is accompanied by hardness of the tongue, dryness of the palate, and a devouring heat in all the body. The sensation of thirst is so intense, that in all tongues it is synonymous with excessive desire and irrepressible longing…”

Put that in your pipe and smoke it. Giving the book back to its rightful owner, Carol smiled gracefully and got up to her feet. Therese looked at her, and Carol knew she was afraid she would make her exit. However, she had no such plan in her mind. Instead she walked over to Therese, set her hands on her shoulders and leaned in to ask her a question. “Where is the ladies’ room again?” The answer was incoherent at best but Carol didn’t really need it. She knew damn well where the toilet was. A deliciously arrogant smile on her face, she made her way to the powder room.

This is madness, Carol scolded herself staring down at the wash basin. I’ll have to take it down a notch or I’ll lose my faculties any minute now. She had felt it once again, the clear, evident attraction they seemed to share, but could it be she was still reading too much into it? Some people flirt all the time and it doesn’t mean anything, Carol remembered. She, however, wasn’t like that – or was she? Her ex-husband had accused her of it several times although she hadn’t recognized it at all.

Abby always said she didn’t even have to flirt with anyone for the world would always worship at her feet. But Carol didn’t want to be worshipped, and she had said as much to Abby as well. Who wants to be put on a pedestal? She had had more than her fair share of being a trophy wife paraded around in country clubs and endless charity functions.   

The girl – why did she insist on calling her that? Maybe because it served to distance Therese away from any reality Carol had to deal with on a day-to-day basis? The girl, Therese, seemed star struck, and it frightened her. She was so young. Too young? Yet she was undeniably drawn to her, giddy with excitement and unforeseen joy. I want it and I won’t deny it, Carol decided taking a long look at the mirror. Determined to act upon her feelings and her needs, she picked up her handbag and started towards their table.

“Chef Aird! Therese told us you’re here, great! Now we can all have a real party!” Richard Semco, Dannie McElroy and Jeanette Harrison were standing next to Therese who was still sitting at her seat. Defeated by the arrival of their colleagues, she turned around to seek Carol’s eyes. Genevieve and Phil brought drinks to the table. “Scoot over so we’ll all fit in,” Richard pleaded placing a surprise kiss on Therese’s cheek. “This promises to be a start of a memorable night."

Chapter Text

Monday morning came soon enough, and with it Carol’s inevitable meeting with Abby. They had agreed to meet for coffee an hour before the team was to arrive at the test kitchen. Carol wasn’t exactly looking forward to it knowing the get-together would be strained at best.

“How was your weekend?” Abby asked politely though her voice had an impatient edge to it. “It was okay, I guess,” Carol replied nonchalantly. “Enjoyed the party on Saturday evening?” Abby continued looking at her sternly. So she knows, big deal. “Well, what can I say – a lot of young people… the food was good, though.” She downplayed it the best she could but Abby wasn’t buying it.

“Do you realize I was the only one not invited to this charming soirée?” she said bitterly. “I don’t know if anyone was really invited… people just showed up,” Carol tried knowing fully well her light-hearted quip wouldn’t be appreciated. “That’s not what I heard,” Abby replied somewhat angrily. “You were invited…” Her voice died down. Carol felt guilty all of a sudden. It was true that Abby had been left out but then again she wasn’t exactly a friend to the members of her team. She was their boss after all.

But who on earth could have told Abby about Carol’s invitation? “Yes, I suppose I was but I guess it had more to do with Therese’s gratitude over the new job than anything else.” A very good answer, she congratulated herself. “It would’ve been rude of me to ignore her kind gesture.” She could feel Abby eyeing her tenaciously.

“We need to talk about it. The job I mean.” Abby was aggravated. “I’m up to my neck with the renovation work making sure everyone out there is doing the job they’re supposed to do… and now I have to worry about you pulling stunts like this?” She sounded exasperated. “You don’t think, Carol, you never take into account what your actions bring about,” she reprimanded. “You go about your business as if nothing ever really touches you, leaving the rest of us clean up after the mess you’ve made…” Abby wasn’t clearly talking about the restaurant anymore. Her words stung Carol but she continued all the same.

“How about some closure every once in a while? Tying the loose ends, the full circle, the works…” she hammered on, “Instead of rushing into something new before dealing with your old shit.” Carol met her gaze and saw the hurt in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Abby, if you feel that way…” she could feel regret taking over her inescapably. “But I’m not rushing into anything, I’m just following my instincts,” she explained in a desperate attempt to prove her wrong.

“Your instincts? Is that what you call it these days?” Abby was astounded. “Was it your instinct that brought you to my bed six months ago?” Carol flinched as if she’d been lunged undeservedly. Are we having this conversation now? “No… it wasn’t,” she started gravely, “I was drunk and desperate and I made a mistake,” she replied trying the words on as she was still speaking. “Drunk? That’s your excuse?” Her friend couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You had no say in it, you were just a passive bystander, is that what you’re telling me?” Abby spat out. “As far as I recall, you were anything but passive.”

The memory of the night came back more vividly than ever before, and it felt like a sharp kick in the stomach. Carol realized she had kept it even from herself – the willingness on her part, the undeniable pleasure she had gotten from it. She had been actively involved, there was no denying it, but remembering it didn’t make it any easier. If possible, it made her even more ashamed of herself.

“You’re right,” Carol said her voice hoarse with anguish. “I let it happen because I wanted it.” Alcohol was never an excuse convincing enough, drinking way too much had just stripped her from all her inhibitions and better judgment. “Still it was a mistake, and I regret it.” A lump in her throat made her stop. “And now you’re moving on? Finding the staff fuckable?” The crude word hit Carol so unexpectedly it made her cringe. All the conflicting emotions crashing violently against each other, washing over her, shook her to the core.

Fuckable tasted like bile in her mouth, and it made her both angry and sad. She tried to pick herself up. “What if I am?” She failed to tone down her apparent indignation. “So you’re not denying it?” Abby wanted to know. “I’m not denying or confirming shit!” Carol snapped back.

A loud banging on the door of the cold storage interrupted their heated conversation.

Abby opened the door only to find Genevieve shivering behind it. “What the hell are you doing here at this hour!?” she demanded to know. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Genevieve babbled nervously, “I needed to prep for the morning session but the bloody door shut behind me,” she explained afraid to look at either of the women present. “You need to fix the lock before someone gets in serious trouble… I didn’t panic because I knew you guys would be here eventually…” her voice trailed off. Carol stared at the young woman guessing she’d caught every angry word they had said to each other. Fucking hell!

“Do you think she heard us?” Abby asked when Genevieve had excused herself. “What do you think?” Carol scoffed lighting a cigarette. She needed one badly.

When the rest of the team finally arrived one was missing from their ranks. Therese was nowhere to be found. Carol grew worried, she was suddenly sick with fear of something she couldn’t quite define. After they had been ambushed at the restaurant, Carol had sat at the table eating her dessert, listening to others carrying a loud conversation on trivial matters and unknown people she couldn’t care less about.

The center of the attention hadn’t moved an inch from her chair, she had seemed frozen, paralyzed into the posture Carol had left her in when heading to the bathroom. The sounds of the small restaurant had quieted down, taken on a muted sound that had rendered everything, even the perfect chocolate fondant dull and pointless.

When she had met Therese’s gaze, their eyes had picked up a frequency of their own, a need to separate from the overwhelming presence of others oblivious to their vivid, life-affirming connection. Yet it couldn't do away with the crushing disappointment the rude intervention had created, the abrupt mundaneness that had destroyed the hopes and dreams built up only a short moment ago. Carol had felt helpless sitting across Therese her frustration taking better of her, tightening into an outright physical pain.

Suddenly she hadn’t been able to take it anymore. Seeing Therese with Richard hovering all over her, had sent her reeling with despair and frustration although the object of his affection had seemed uneasy by his mere presence. After a polite amount of time she had excused herself and wished others an enjoyable night. Carol knew she wasn’t going to be missed among them, she was certain they would let out a sigh of relief after her departure. “The boss has no friends, only underlings,” her father had said all too often smiling like someone with unlimited wealth and power only could.

Therese had followed her to the door, to see her off. Facing her in the doorway Carol had been gripped by a terrible urge to ask her to leave with her, to be with her instead of anyone else. She didn’t, however, say a word but her eyes said more than enough. Mouthing a silent goodbye, Carol bid farewell and walked over to her car.

She sat behind the steering wheel for a long time staring through the windshield. Remembering a passage from Brillat-Savarin’s book, Carol picked up her phone and typed a message to Therese.

Thank you for a lovely evening.

See Meditation XI, part 6, 2nd paragraph.

x - Carol

Her Tesla picking up speed, she recalled the chapter she knew so very well:

“Nothing is more pleasant than to see a pretty woman, her napkin well placed under her arms, one of her hands on the table, while the other carries to her mouth, the choice piece so elegantly carved. Her eyes become brilliant, her lips glow, her conversation is agreeable and all her motions become graceful. With so many advantages she is irresistible…”

Genevieve finally spoke up when they were ready to start their day’s work. “Chef Aird, Miss Gerhard, everybody – ehm… Therese can’t make it today, and she asked me to apologize for her. I saw her yesterday and she was already feverish,” the uneasiness Genevieve had felt over Carol and Abby was still showing, “Anyway, this morning she sent a text telling me she’d fallen ill over night but hoped to be back on her feet as soon as possible…”

The news depressed Carol immensely and it worried her as well. She knew Therese wouldn’t stay away without a perfectly good reason but still she couldn’t help but wonder if Saturday night had something to do with it. Why hadn’t she sent her a message? She was after all her boss now. Therese hadn’t replied to her thank you message either. I was too forward, she fretted, I went too far and she freaked out. That’s it. I behaved totally unprofessionally and made her feel uncomfortable. Oh my fucking God what a fool I am…

Carol had to struggle to get through the day her thoughts wandering over Therese all too often. Was she really sick? What was she thinking? Was someone taking care of her and if yes, was that someone Richard? Was she afraid to return to work because her boss had acted like a complete idiot?

She spent the last part of the day indulging in one of her favorite subjects, synaesthesia. The concept that refers to the neurological condition in which two or more bodily senses are linked had always fascinated her immensely. When Rindy had been just a preschooler she had wondered whether she might in fact be a synaesthete. The way her daughter viewed the days of the week to have different personalities - for instance Monday being cautious and aloof, Thursday caring and tender - could have been a sign of the condition.

Rindy's attitude towards food was also peculiar to say the least. She would taste a banana and see pink or an orange and see dark green. In her case, the learned associations hadn't applied at all. After a couple of years these strange connections had however disappeared only to be replaced by the more common ones.

A true synaesthete can for example taste flavors just by hearing the words which trigger them, Carol elaborated. He or she can also associate taste with shapes - an asparagus leaving for instance an impression of a sphere. The idea of sensory crossover could also be used in the kitchen, she explained. "It would be interesting to find out how round shapes and sharp sounds could complement each other on the plate", she envisioned.

"Imagine that each word had a taste quite unique - tomorrow would taste like a rind of a lemon, bicycle like a slice of toasted sourdough bread, love like a cold, wet metal against your wrist..." Genevieve glanced at Carol. For some reason she looked peeved. Dannie chuckled poking her elbow between Tommy's ribs. God knows what words those two are tasting... She closed the day urging her team to think of different associations. Even if they didn't end up being eaten in the dining room, they would certainly benefit the poetry fueling their creative work.

Carol stayed behind after the team had already taken off. Therese, she thought, and the name tasted suddenly like an early morning dew scented by fresh cut grass and warm abiding earth. Therese.

When she was about to leave, she noticed Abby standing by the door. There was no trace of anger left on her face, just sadness and disillusionment. Carol wasn't used to seeing her friend like this, she was sure she had never seen her in such a state.

“Abby… you are my best friend," Carol started her heart beating fearfully, "you are the one and only solid foundation I have ever had in my life." She was fighting back tears. " I have always drawn my strength from you, you must know that.” Abby listened quietly her head bowed down.

“And I know I can't do that anymore..." She wasn't ready for this but then again when would she ever be if not now? "I must stand on my own two feet, for God’s sake I’ll be forty in a couple of months and I can’t rely on you in everything.” Without her really noticing it, Abby had sat across her. “You’re so used to taking care of me, it’s second nature to you but you’ll have to let me make my own decisions every once in a while even if they turn out to be mistakes.”

Carol opened her mouth to continue but hesitated dreading the outcome of her words. “I love you, Abby, but just not in the way you want me to…” she closed her eyes for a painful second, “and there’s nothing I want more than to keep on loving you – if the love I feel for you is something you still regard worth having.” Now it was all out, irrevocably out of her reach.

“I wish it weren’t so, I wish I could make you happy in all the ways you deserve because you deserve it all. You deserve everything...” Carol wanted to say so much more and she wanted to say it better, but all that came out of her mouth echoed lifelessly in her ears. “I don’t know, Carol…” Abby said quietly. “I don’t know if what you’re offering is enough anymore. It would've been if it weren't for...” Her shoulders jerking inconsolably she buried her face in her hands.

Carol stood up to go to her. “Don’t,” Abby whispered, “I don’t think I can take it.” They sat at the counter for a long time Carol watching how tears streamed steadily down Abby’s cheeks. She was torn by two different sensations, by the quiet desperation of her friend and the nagging recognition of her own worthlessness before her. I deserve this, she knew hoping Abby would still let her remain by her side.

Chapter Text

Then it changed.

And it did because Abby wanted it so. If Carol were to have both her continuing financial support and a chance to make amends for her past errors, she would have to accept certain, non-negotiable terms. Abby laid down the law: she would not tolerate inappropriate behavior of any kind. In other words, no fucking the kitchen staff. Neither of them said Therese’s name out loud but Carol knew very well it was Therese Abby was talking about.

Carol accepted her sentence meekly. Might as well, I did make a fool of myself anyway, she thought with a heavy heart. But it also changed the way she felt about each new morning, each new day in the test kitchen. The happiness she had felt evaporated into nothingness, and she put on a mask of professionality and detachment.

Therese was back the next day looking pale and tired, and Carol could tell she was watching her just as intently as before. Carol, however, avoided her gaze stubbornly. Abby’s eyes were on her constantly as well and Carol couldn’t think of one reason to unsettle the already delicate equilibrium between them.

Carol didn’t want to be rude but she knew she was being inexplicably evasive and impolite. Furthermore she was again unnecessarily snappy and impatient with her team. At times Therese’s position as sous-chef made the situation outright impossible. They would have to consult each other on some urgent detail and the interaction between them would be strained at best. “Carol…” Therese started at one point, and the tenderness her voice echoed startled Carol in a way that was bittersweet above all else. How she longed to hear Therese say her name, to look into her eyes and let herself disappear into their sweet spell. Yet she couldn't, not now – not ever? And to hide her pain Carol turned away, avoided her scrutiny, those forest green eyes pulling her back to life.

The days and the weeks followed their monotonous course, and sooner than Carol knew a month had gone by her not really noticing it. The restaurant was to open in two months and the excitement within the team members was palpable. They had made tremendous progress but only two thirds of their time left Carol was still not sure if they'd accomplished enough.

Having witnessed the change in Carol’s behavior, Abby had relaxed noticeably. She was almost friendly the former strain mostly gone from her voice. Carol lived for these carefree moments resembling their old friendship and she did so because she had nothing else. Weekends with Rindy were her lifeline, the only truly breathing, evolving thing in the scope of her otherwise meager existence. When her daughter spent her time at her father’s house the loneliness almost crushed her. If possible, Carol threw herself even more fiercely in polishing her skills and exacting her art. She had, however, opted to mostly experiment at home fearing unexpected encounters in the test kitchen.

Therese was flourishing in her job as sous-chef, and even if her getting the coveted position had struck others as unnecessary bold a decision, she had proven her worth many times over. She was not only an innovative chef but also precise and determined, strict and encouraging. Therese oozed more self-confidence every day, and to Carol it meant everything. At times when Abby was away running a renovation errand or sorting the paperwork in the office Carol allowed her eyes rest upon the young woman who displayed such tremendous grace and character as the only other person other than her running the kitchen work.

You are magnificent, Carol wanted to tell her. No, she wanted to climb up on the roof and yell it out loud for everyone to hear. For Therese Belivet was nothing short of a miracle, she thought saddened by the fact that prevented her from singing her praises. Carol observed the petite brunette in action, the way she moved between the counters where prepping was underway, answering questions, returning funny quips, pointing out oversights. All this she managed to get done with a calm yet aptly humorous spirit.

Therese was a sight to marvel, Carol thought but her own heart wasn’t taking her obvious attachment well at all. It was like a jagged cut on its most sensitive surface, a cut that bled desperately each time she looked at her. Sometimes it made Carol involuntarily grab her chest as if the agony of the loss she felt would at any minute rip her heart out once and for all. What loss? asked the other side of her, the one so world-weary and forlorn. You never had her and you never will.    

Quite early one Saturday while Carol was nowhere near dressed yet, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. Putting on her robe, she went to open the door. Therese. It was chilly and damp outside, and she looked as if she were freezing.

“Can I come in?” she asked her eyes wet green puddles of sad fatigue. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea,” Carol said wrapping the robe tighter against her waist. Her heart was beating so fast she needed to take hold of the door handle one more time. “Please… just for a minute,” Therese said, “I won’t bother you after that, I promise.” Hesitantly Carol led her to the kitchen. Bother me, please…

“What did I do?” she asked Carol her voice breaking. “What do you mean?” Carol replied feigning ignorance. “You never look at me, you hardly talk to me anymore… did I do something wrong?” Therese tried desperately to seek her eyes but Carol kept avoiding her. “If I did, I will fix it. I want to fix it. Please!” Her impassionate plea left Carol breathless. What do I say now? she fretted feverishly still unable to look Therese in the eyes. Oh, she wanted to! She wanted so much it amounted to everything in just a flash of a second. “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.” Now she was being cruel.

“Was it something I said in my email?” Therese asked aghast. “Was I being too…” she closed up in mid-sentence. Email? Carol turned around abruptly her eyes wide with surprise. “What email are you talking about?” she demanded to know. “The one I sent you the day after my birthday… I didn’t have your private address so I sent it to the office,” Therese explained cautiously. “I never got any email from you.” A bad feeling took over Carol. A very bad premonition. “Oh God, I must have misspelled the address then or something…” Therese stammered all confused. I don’t think you did.

“What was in it?” Carol asked uncertain whether it was a good idea or not. “My thoughts… everything that happened after you’d left… my apologizies for being sick and not being able to make it the next day.” Carol walked over to the window her back turned against Therese. She needed to calm herself down. No, it can’t be, I won’t believe it. Her inner thoughts were turning into a wailing lamentation to some unknown endlessly forgiving God she hoped would prove her fears all wrong, that everything was still as it should be in the world and that she needed not to think or even assume otherwise. 

“So you never got it?” Therese’s voice was very quiet. “No.” Carol was wringing her hands in growing agitation. “Well … you must have thought of me as very rude then…” Carol could tell Therese was choking back her tears. Go to her, tell her everything’s alright. That it’s not her fault, that none of this is her fault. But Carol just stood there, shocked by what she had just learned, paralyzed by her own considerable trepidation. She was ashamed of her inability to act, to offer any kind of consolation so she chose to avert her eyes instead.

“I’m sorry…” An almost inaudible apology was followed by a quick succession of steps as Therese ran out of the room, out of the house and as far as Carol knew, out of her life as well. She had been cold, curt and uncaring – why would Therese want anything to do with her after this?

A half an hour later Carol was in the office. She went through the received messages but found nothing. There wasn’t anything on the date Therese had mentioned. Maybe she had mistyped the address after all? Yet she did find it very hard to believe that Therese would be so careless, and surely the message would’ve been returned to its sender almost immediately? Unless... Carol didn’t want to finish her thought at first but it kept coming back, circling over her conscious mind like a jet plane waiting for a landing permission. Unless it did come but I never got to see it.

She clicked open the trash bin that should’ve been emptied by now. Even the icon on the desktop was overflowing. Carol sorted the discarded messages by date and scrolled down to find the day she was looking for.

Sender: [email protected]                Subject: Carol

Carol stared at the line that seemed to unite not only the sender with the recipient but also her fearful heart with the depressing reality it indicated. This email had been deliberately taken out, done away with so that she could not read it. And there was only one other person with access to this computer. Abby.

Slowly she opened the message and read it.

Carol –

Thank you for making my birthday the best one I’ve ever had. It was – until we were interrupted. I’m so sorry. It made me mad yet I was helpless to do anything about it. I wish I could’ve left with you.

I had the most terrible row with Richard afterwards but I guess it was high time to have one. We are no longer a couple in any sense of the word. I don’t know if it was the unpleasantness of it all but I’m feeling rather ill right now. I’m running a fever, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it tomorrow.

Your text message made me very happy. Thank you. I give you this in return:

“We should look for someone to eat and drink with before looking for something to eat and drink.” – Epicurus

I look forward to our next meal.

Therese

“Okay, folks, gather around,” Phil hollered, “I have some live Maine lobsters here and I thought I’d remind you of few things.” He picked up one of them from the sink in front of him. Not knowing what was about to go down, the hard-shelled creature waved its claws in the air. “The livelier, the better,” Phil continued, “and you want to make damn sure the tail is not curled while it’s still alive – it needs to be straight like on this lil’ rascal.”

I wish I could’ve left with you. Carol’s pale, blank face disguised a multitude of feelings but the realization of Therese’s wish was way too much for her. She wanted it as much as I did, and now I’ve painted myself into a corner, flashed through her mind for the umpteenth time since she had read the email.

“I have a large pot of boiling water waiting for this poor sucker but hey, let’s not be monsters here,” Phil chuckled, “it’s only fair to let this guy out of his misery before hitting the pot.” Carol stared at Abby who had just joined them in the kitchen. “Chef Aird?” Phil was looking for Carol. “Will you come and show how this should be done properly?” Abby was smiling at Carol who kept looking at her unfazed.

“Sure.” She walked slowly over to the counter. “Can I have the knife?” Letting her sight linger on her unsuspecting friend, Carol cocked her head arrogantly. “A very sharp knife.” Phil handed one over. She took the lobster in her hand. “If you boil a lobster alive, its heart can beat up to almost two minutes submerged in scalding water.” She pressed it against the chopping board. “Some prefer to electrocute them but then again the muscle spasms may separate the tail from the carapace,” she explained locking eyes with Abby. “And since I don’t really buy that hypnosis shit, I just do this.” Carol put the tip of the knife between the lobster’s eyes and shoved it through. “Nothing like a quick stab in the head, right?” she joked though her grey eyes aimed at her friend were anything but smiling. 

Chapter Text

“Today we’ll be experimenting with liquid nitrogen.” Carol’s voice demanded an absolute silence from her restless team. “You may think of it as a relatively recent culinary innovation but it’s actually not,” she went on. “A Victorian cook by the name of Agnes B. Marshall advocated the use of it in making ice cream over a hundred years ago.” She paced the room gathering her thoughts. Therese stood quietly on the other side of the kitchen her head bowed down. It felt weird not to have her eyes on her, Carol thought. No, it felt wrong.

“Make no mistake: liquid nitrogen is cold. So remember, no funny business, you’d only regret it later when your skin rips off of some metal frozen by this stuff.” Carol shot a stern glance at the McElroy brothers. “The lowest temperature on Earth was recorded in Antarctica, and that was -128.92°F – liquid nitrogen is -320.8°F.”

Carol looked around the room taking mental notes of everyone present – Genevieve fidgeting uneasily, Jeanette trying to sneak a peek at the equipment in front of Carol, McElroy brothers waiting restlessly for her to continue, Tommy clearly thinking about something else than what the chef was talking about. Carol couldn’t really blame him – quick freezing wasn’t something a chef rotisseur would be too turned on about. And then there was Abby – Abby standing just a little apart from the rest her hands shoved in her pants’ pockets.

For a while Carol felt unable to go on, her anger again choking her throat. She’d been furious for days now, fuming over Abby’s deed as the worst betrayal anyone had ever inflicted upon her. Yet Carol couldn’t also help but feel she had had it coming for her. She’s jealous and hurt, and this was her way of lashing out, Carol knew during her calmer moments. But she couldn’t just forgive her either, it was much too painful to watch Abby so cheerful, so fucking happy all the time after what she had done to her. She had no right, Carol seethed. If she were truly my friend, she’d come clean about it.    

“So why do we need to fool around with liquefied gas in the kitchen then?” Carol continued rhetorically. “First of all, this – cooking, I mean – is all about inventiveness, about evolution rather than revolution“, she exemplified, “We won’t do anything just because of the technique itself but we will use it if it enables us to take our dishes to the next level of refinement.”  

Carol looked at Therese hoping to get a reaction from her but she kept averting her eyes stubbornly. I hurt you, I hurt your feelings. Abby coughed impatiently. Shut the fuck up, bitch! Carol drew a long, calming breath. “Our tasting menu will include one dish, a palate cleanser, involving the use of liquid nitrogen but it will have to be strategically placed within the menu.” Jeanette raised her hand. “Isn’t it a bit too early to think about the succession of dishes?” Carol frowned. “Not at all. We have to start somewhere,” she explained. “And if we have a dish that requires certain terms of presentation, why not start building the rest around it?” She was getting impatient with Jeanette for no reason whatsoever. Her question wasn’t that inappropriate after all.

“The end result dictates the serving order. If we are dealing with components which are instable at best, the dish can’t be kept waiting for too long”, Carol clarified. “It needs to be served right away so as to keep it from collapsing.” Dannie was grinning like hell. “Now that we’ll be using this deep freeze shit, maybe we should call the dish “Revenge”!” Carol looked at her questioningly. “And why would we do that, dear Daniel?” The young man known for his ill-timed jokes was happy to elaborate. “As the French say, la vengeance est un plat qui se mange froid – revenge is a dish best served cold.” Everyone chuckled – except Carol, Abby and Therese. I need a cigarette, Carol thought. And I need to get the fuck out of here.

During the lunch hour Carol had to take Rindy to meet her father. Harge Aird was already waiting for them in front of Bloomingdale’s department store. While Harge’s chauffeur took care of Rindy’s overnight bag, Carol approached her ex-husband.

“Do you hate me, Harge?” Carol asked surprising even herself. “No, how can I hate you, Carol? We have a child together,” her ex-husband replied. “You did for a while, didn’t you?” Harge shrugged clearly embarrassed by her question. Hesitating, Carol decided to get to the point. “My restaurant… the opening’s only less than two months away, and I’ve been wondering if you’d be interested in it?” Intrigued, Harge crossed his arms. “Interested in what way?”

Carol tried to make light of it. “Well, maybe investing in it? It’s going to be a huge deal…” she stressed hoping to sound convincing enough. “If I were interested, what would be in it for me?” he asked cockily. Carol could see his interest was piqued. “A share of the profits, obviously…” she offered. “What else?” Harge demanded. “A chance to see Abby booted out… I’m sure you’d like that,” Carol said staring at him intently. It wasn’t an easy matter for her to blurt out but she was feeling desperate. Desperate and disgusted at the same time. An arrogant smile spread across Harge’s face. “Well, I’ll certainly think about it.”

Half an hour later the entire creative team stood by a Dewar flask containing liquid nitrogen. I am like a sorcerer with her apprentices around a cauldron of magic potion, Carol thought seeing how captivated her team was by the steaming substance. “I’ve made some mousse out of mainly lime juice, vodka and pectin base,” she demonstrated, “And now I will squirt some of it to a spoon…” Carol proceeded to do just that, “Then I’ll tap it against the flask to release the ball of foam into the nitrogen.” Therese moved closer to see how the egg-shaped ball started to ‘poach’ in it.

“Therese, would you like to continue?” Carol asked her shyly. She handed her a clean spoon and when their fingers brushed against each other in passing, Therese looked into Carol’s eyes for the very first time that day. She basted the liquid over the foam for ten seconds or so, then rolled it over and did the same again. Scooping it out, the mousse ball revealed itself crispy on the outside yet soft and semi-liquid in the center. “We will work out the other details once we get into plating but let’s now have a taste of this,” Carol concluded her stomach in knots.

Therese was the first to try it out. A delighted smile lit her face, her green eyes which had appeared so lifeless and cloudy the entire afternoon. “It’s exquisite,” she gasped excitedly, “the green tea, my god…” Once again Carol couldn’t but marvel the impeccable accurateness of Therese’s palate. “You enjoyed it?” she asked her protégé in a warm, quiet voice. “I love it.” Tommy had to force the spoon out of Therese’s hand for she wasn’t paying attention to anything or anyone except Carol.                

“I’ve decided we’ll spend the rest of the day talking about the roles of the staff,” Carol opened the last session. “Let me introduce you to our newly hired head waiter, Madeleine French”. A gorgeous redhead smiled gregariously at the team of professionals. “So, Mrs. French, will you take over?” Carol motioned for her to step out.

“Oh, no, please call me Maddie – and it’s actually Miss, not Mrs. French – she happens to be my mother”, the woman corrected sporting an adorable smile. “I’m most grateful to have the opportunity to work with all of you and I’m doubly excited to work for you, chef Aird.” Maddie French was positively beaming. “I’ve been working alongside Miss Gerhard for some time now, going through applications for the dining room personnel.” Abby nodded gravely towards both Carol and Maddie.

“It is important to recognize the importance of the right staff from early on because so much rides on the performance taking place outside the kitchen,” Maddie started, “You are undoubtedly the creative geniuses, the emitters, who channel their skills and creativity into dishes but we who work the dining room – we are the transmitters of your vision.” Paying close attention to Maddie’s words, Carol hadn’t noticed Therese standing right next to her. Sensing her proximity had a ridiculously strong, startling effect on her. Carol could feel Therese moving even closer, first touching her with her elbow as if by accident, and then, suddenly, sliding her hand across her back softly, soothingly. Carol shot a quick glance at Abby who seemed absorbed in what Maddie was saying at the moment. Carol’s body was in lovely shock, utterly terrorized by its own tremendous wish to surrender to such a gentle, seemingly easy caress.

“The waiter performs the pivotal role of helping the guest adapt to the rhythm dictated by the kitchen. It’s his or her duty to ensure each and every client entering your fine establishment gets the maximum experience he or she desires…” Maddie went on to explain. Maximum experience, I’m not sure if I could handle it. Carol was tense and limp at the same time. “The waiting staff not only delivers the food to the table, it controls timing – and as we all know, timing is everything.” God, yes.

“We create the atmosphere, we convey the philosophy behind the dishes as well as explain them,” Maddie broadened, “and we control the quality. Nothing sloppy should ever pass through our hands.” She turned to face Therese. “You are the sous-chef, right?” Smiling, Therese nodded at Miss French. “Your job is closely related to ours since you’re the one to oversee each dish leaving the kitchen.” Maddie looked forward to hear Therese’s take on the subject. “I’m aware of it, yes. And I intend to live up to the promise of excellence.” Therese turned to look at Carol once more. “Whatever my fingers will touch, I promise it will turn out perfect.” Kill. Me. Now. At the same time Carol was painfully aware of Abby glaring at her from the opposite side of the room.

“If we are the emitters and you are the transmitters, who are the guests then – the receptors?” Genevieve asked jokingly. “You hit the nail right on its head, my dear,” Maddie chuckled. “They are indeed for it is for them that we toil. For their senses, spirit, mind and memory.” Therese was quick to jump in. “We should definitely talk more about the sixth sense of the dining experience – the way the food can relate to the intellect,” she enthused. The men in the room looked somewhat dumbfounded.

“C’mon, you know what I mean – well, the silly stuff, if you like. How the food finds the ways of connecting to one’s childhood memories, to one’s sense of irony and provocation.” Therese was fueled up and ready to taxi. “We are allowed to transgress, to cross boundaries, to surprise and wink a knowing eye…” she envisioned. “Where would we be without the magic and play? I have a distinct recollection of hearing you, chef Aird, speak very eloquently about the latter…”

Carol stiffened realizing Therese too remembered the lecture two years before. “Yes, you’re absolutely right…” she mumbled incoherently. “Food – it is very much like theatre, don’t you think? you stated to your adoring audience, do you recall that?” Therese asked in a calm and confident manner. For fuck’s sake, pull yourself together! “As a matter of fact, I do,” Carol answered with unwavering conviction yet it was the only unwavering thing about her. The air between the women thickened, it blurred Carol’s reason, impaired her mind and better judgment. Resistance is futile, she knew and it made her want to weep uncontrollably.

The day done, Carol opened the car door and sat down in the driver’s seat. Everyone else had left already an hour ago. Fuck, the gloves… Sighing, she got up to fetch the exquisite, black leather driving gloves she had apparently forgotten in the test kitchen. I should get something to eat as well, she mused and headed towards the cold storage. To her surprise its door was slightly ajar allowing unnecessarily warm air to flow inside the walk-in storage. Such sloppiness, good thing I happened to come back, she thought displeased.

What she saw next made her heart flutter. Therese was sorting through some jars on the other side of the storage space. Carol slipped the grip of the door handle and the heavy door closed with a loud bang behind her. Only now Therese registered her having come in. “Oh god, Carol… the door!!!” Oh fuck, Abby never got the lock fixed, flashed through Carol’s upset mind.

They stood staring at each other for a long time aware of the hopelessness of their situation. The thermostat of the cold storage was located outside the room and the temperature inside was around 40°F at the moment. Therese was wearing a short sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and Carol had left her leather jacket in the car.

“We could be stuck here for the entire night, you know,” Therese spoke after a long silence. Even Carol’s handbag containing her cell phone was safely lodged inside her Tesla. Not that she would’ve gotten a decent signal in the cold storage anyway. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, it’s just that you startled me… I had no idea that anyone was still in here.” The low temperature was affecting Therese already. Carol however felt oddly hot.

The first hour went by neither of them really saying anything intelligible. Carol eyed Therese nervously, she was afraid and at loss for words. The whole situation was uncomfortable to say the least, and the poor girl was shivering noticeably. “We will freeze to death,” Therese giggled almost hysterically. “Nonsense, at least it’s not getting any cooler, it’ll stay the same.” Carol ran her fingers through her blonde tresses. Her hand was shaking.

“Carol…” Therese started, “This is no good. We’ll get sick if we don’t do anything.” Carol stared at her trying to level her breathing. “Do what?” Rubbing her arms agitatedly, Therese tried to warm herself in any way she could. “We need to warm ourselves…” she exhaled, “…with our body heat.” Dreading the effect of her words, Therese averted her eyes. Carol closed hers for a second.

“Therese…” she nearly whispered, “Come here.” The girl raised her eyes slowly and took a few tentative steps towards Carol. A deer in the headlights, Carol thought melting inside.

“Closer.”     

Chapter Text

Seriously shivering by now, Therese approached Carol. She looked so frightened it brought out everything that was warm, protective and caring in Carol. Therese needed her to be strong now, to be determined and loving in a way that posed no threat, no demands.

Carol met her half way and without a word wrapped her arms around Therese. She pressed her entire body against her rubbing her back and her cold arms. It felt like the most important thing in the world for her to do – to just be there for her in any way she could.

Therese remained standing in her arms mute and frozen her head on Carol’s shoulder. Not one word was spoken, not a word was needed. I will shelter you, Carol thought caressing her soft, brown hair. Nothing bad will happen to you, not now, not ever. She was surprised to realize how the desire she had for Therese could actually subside when needed. Or if not entirely subside at least let other emotions more relevant emerge to take over for now. For the first time in weeks Carol recognized maturity in her thoughts and in her actions. I’m not just some silly girl gushing over a crush after all.

“You any better?” she asked tenderly cupping Therese’s face and looking at her closely. Her eyes had a kind gleam without any of the urgency she normally felt in her presence. “Yeah, I am. Thanks.” Carol could see Therese was afraid she would let go of her. The reluctance demonstrated itself in the way she clung to Carol even tighter. Therese’s whole torso pressing against her, Carol came to think she might just be the only one having a mature, controlled insight on what was happening inside the cold storage. The brunette was breathing more rapidly than just a minute ago. Could be due to mild hypothermia? Carol felt her lips on her neck. It was a slight brush, almost non-existent, maybe even an accident but for Carol it was a rousing moment. Or maybe not.

“You’re freezing…” Carol said feeling Therese’s hands on her sides. Even through her shirt she could sense how very cold they were. This is not the time or the place. “Come here”, she said taking her by the hand. Carol recalled Abby having put some blankets in one of the storage closets inside the walk-in freezer. She had been amused by their apparent misplacement but right now she was desperate to find them there.

She was in luck – two blankets were shoved on the bottom of one of the storing units. Carol placed one on the floor and motioned Therese to have a seat on it. Dumbfounded, she sat down expectantly. Carol took her place facing her, so close that she ended up sitting between Therese’s spread legs. Carol pulled her even tighter against her. “Wrap your feet around my back,” she instructed, “Body heat you said? Let’s use it to get you warm then, okay?” Smiling weakly, Therese nodded.

Carol placed the other blanket over Therese’s shoulders. “Now, slide your hands inside my shirt… it’s okay, I’m asking you to use my heat…” Therese shot a surprised glance at Carol but did what she was told. Carefully her arms found Carol’s warm softness the coldness of her hands startling the blonde woman. “I’m so sorry…” Therese whispered. “Don’t be, it’s alright,” Carol muttered, “They will warm up in no time… I’m getting used to them already.” As if.

It all occurred to Carol at the same time: Therese practically straddling her on the floor of the cold storage, her arms deep inside her shirt moving, seeking warmth – heating her blood after all those sensible musings she had had only a short while ago. Carol was getting seriously turned on, there was no denying it – the evidence was palpably present right there in her groin area. She’s ridiculously hot even when hypothermic.

Sitting so close to Therese was already intoxicating, but when their raised heads touched each other Carol felt a series of sweet tremors slinking through her body. Therese brushed her temple against Carol’s slowly, languidly. Her hands had already warmed by now but she kept them inside her shirt all the same. In fact Carol realized she was about to move them but not in a heat seeking way. Actually, Therese was moving her hands in a heat seeking way but this time the heat she was seeking had a quite different quality to it.

Carol’s heart was beating wildly as their cheeks stroked gently one another. Turning their heads in precise, shared rhythm, in one so meditative and slow, they maintained a contact sweeter, more erotic she had ever known before. When Therese’s fingers glided over her ribcage, Carol took such a quick, trembling breath it registered with the one doing the touching as well. Carol was afraid to look at Therese for she knew she couldn’t hide her longing anymore. Why would I want to hide it?

She sensed Therese getting bolder now – her hands had stopped only to contemplate their next move. The elation Therese’s heaving chest kindled in Carol made her want to encourage her, to coax her on. The apprehensive, immobile fingers inside her shirt were scorching her skin, leaving fevered imprints on it like imagined memories of things yet to come.

Is there anything more beautiful, more perfect than the moment just before? Carol thought memorizing every nuance of it. She slid her palms on Therese’s waist to press her even tighter against her lap. Doing so she heard Therese let out an almost silent, joyous gasp. Carol took a deep breath and straightened her head just so that she could look at her, to acknowledge what they both already knew.

Gazing at each other, Carol felt Therese’s thumbs brush the sides of her bra. The absolute greenness of her wide, vivid eyes engulfed Carol for a brilliant flash of a second. Her lips parting, Therese was staring at Carol’s mouth. It was impossible to tell for how long but long enough for Carol to finally know that it was indeed what she really wanted, that she would risk everything for it – everything for just one kiss she guessed would make all the difference in her world. Just a slight tilt of my head now…

“THERESE! WHERE THE FU…” Holding the heavy door open, Dannie McElroy was staring at the two of them in tight embrace. Yanked out of the spell they were under, both women jumped to their feet in a matter of seconds. “Umm… you want the door shut?” Dannie asked averting her eyes. Oh fuck, Carol sighed. “We were locked up in here, Dannie, you hear me?” Therese said in an unnecessary loud voice. “We have been accidentally locked up in here for quite some time and as you can see I’m wearing a friggin’ t-shirt and I was getting cold as hell…” she rambled on. I’m afraid you’re only making it worse.

Suddenly Carol was able to see the humor in it, the futility of even attempting to explain away what Dannie had witnessed. A smile was creeping onto her face and she had to do her very best to suppress it. Carol was sorry to see the moment gone but she was confident enough to know it wasn’t the lack of heating that had brought them so close. Quite the opposite, she knew glancing at flustered Therese.  

“Therese…” Dannie interrupted embarrassedly, “I got a call from Sam and you need to haul your ass over to the pop-up asap. Rosie’s sick and Mark’s otherwise MIA, so they’re seriously outnumbered tonight…” Therese’s reaction was somewhat delayed but she did understand after all. “Okay… okay… of course, I’ll… yeah, of course,” she huffed shooting a worrying glance at Carol. “I’ll drive you there,” Dannie offered taking turns watching both women. He hadn’t obviously quite recovered from the surprise scene in the freezer. “Sure… a good idea,” Therese mumbled. “Why don’t I wait in the car… umm… take your time.” Dannie nodded to Carol and made a hasty retreat.

Therese stood in the doorway waiting for Carol to get safely out of the storage room. “I’m sorry… I’ll talk to Dannie, he’s a nice guy,” she blurted out once they were in the kitchen area again. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Carol replied softly. “You are needed in your restaurant and you have to go, I understand completely.” Her warm, approving smile melted Therese. “I’d rather have stayed here with you,” she said sheepishly. “In the freezer?” Carol asked quirking her eyebrow. “Yeah…” Therese admitted blushing. “We can lock ourselves in the freezer any time,” Carol laughed, “But now you’re presence is demanded elsewhere.” Therese grinned at her remark.

“Well, maybe we can think of some other place than cold storage… to be locked in, I mean?” she suggested boldly. Her eyes were hungry and she kept looking at Carol’s crimson lips. “How about a dinner then? Food is always captivating…” Carol’s voice was quiet yet clear. “Perfect. When?” Therese’s impatience shone through. “Very soon.” Carol’s smile widened as she walked towards the front door. “C’mon. Dannie’s waiting. Too bad, actually… I could’ve given you a lift.” Therese looked at her as if she’d just been told she has to go to bed without supper. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Now go and rescue your colleagues.” Ushering Therese out, Carol slid her hand over her back letting it rest for a while on her waist. Without even looking at her, she already knew how it affected her gorgeous sous-chef.

The next morning was glorious. It could have been even more wonderful, Carol thought smiling at her own recollection of the night before. Who knew what kind of potential a cold storage could have, she mused happily. Body heat – and I was never even a Girl Scout. Carol doubted whether Therese had been one either picturing her in one of those cute uniforms she had seen her friends’ children wear. Good God, woman!

Arriving at the test kitchen she saw Abby talking to Maddie French. They were going over the reservations, which had started to pour in over the last couple of weeks. “These should tide us over for at least a couple of months,” Abby explained excitedly. “We’re already booked solid till September – your name obviously still carries considerable weight,” she smiled approvingly. “How’s the renovation going?” Carol asked trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Good, good… the interior work should be ready within ten days and then we can start thinking about the more detailed furnishings.” Pleased, Carol just nodded.

“I want us to keep a thorough log of every guest who ever sets his foot over our threshold, remember?” Carol looked at Abby. “Yes, I’m on top of it. Every one’s preferences, choices and feedback will be filed accordingly,” she specified eagerly. “What’s that all about?” Maddie asked genuinely intrigued. “Carol… um, chef Aird wants to offer a unique experience no matter how many times a guest honors us with his or her presence,” Abby clarified, “These files will therefore be of tremendous value. We’ll know what appeals to our patrons and what they’ve had before.” While Abby drew breath Carol jumped in. “I want them to come back for more but not just for more of the same, you understand? I want them to come back because they’re excited to see what we’ve come up with this time. For exhilaration and surprise with just a slight modification to suit their tastes.” Listening with growing interest, Maddie seemed very impressed.    

Therese arrived at the same time with the others. She looked exhausted, undoubtedly due to a long, arduous night at the rese, Carol concluded. Once Therese saw Carol her weary eyes did however light up, and seeing it was enough to make a chef’s heart sing – at least chef Aird thought so. There was a new spring in her step when Carol took over to start the day’s proceedings.

“I thought we’d make two of the more refined dishes today,” she started out. “Therese, are you up to helping me out?” Their eyes locked over the main counter. “I sure am,” the sous-chef quipped taking her place next to Carol. The fragrance she had linked to Therese the night before enveloped her by surprise, and she had a hard time trying not to smile too broadly or at all. All the exhaustion seemed to have vanished from Therese’s appearance and she was once again her energetic, ready to learn self.

“First we’ll prepare an amuse bouche – a small arugula soup garnished with brandade and a poached quail egg.” Carol took a bunch of arugula in her hand. “We’ll need six of these blanched to make four portions plus two soft boiled eggs, blanched spinach, court bouillon stock – thank you, Jeanette – plus salt, pepper and olive oil, of course.” She handed the arugula to Therese who put the bundles into a juicer. Switching it on, she extracted the juicy essence out of the peppery leaves. Their relentless greenness reminded Carol of Therese’s eyes, and suddenly she lost herself in their brightness right in front of everybody. Hearing Dannie cough, she finally managed to snap out of it.

“Then we’ll put all the ingredients into a blender and pulse them into a smooth soup,” she continued stupefied by her own behavior. Without a word, Therese volunteered to do the deed on her behalf. Carol watched how effortlessly her slender hands took over the task of finalizing the rich, uncompromising mouthful. Less than twelve hours ago those hands were under my shirt. “Umm… next we’ll…” she started losing her focus. “Next we’ll do the brandade, right?” Therese continued confidently.

She moved to Carol’s other side drawing a gentle line across her back with her fingers. “Phil, I think smoked cod is best for this purpose, am I right?” The chef poissonnier nodded his agreement. “The various, chopped vegetables here have first been sautéed in olive oil, and now I’ll add the fish, water and the additional seasoning in the mix for roughly twenty minutes.” Therese was calm and collected – everything Carol was suddenly not. She felt helpless, so out of place, and she needed not to feel that way. Not here, not now. Carol shot a desperate glance at Therese who picked up on it right away. “Chef Aird, this is your creation. Why don’t you take it from here?”

Clearing her throat, Carol began again. She noticed Abby watching her intently, and the way Abby did it wasn’t exactly soothing. It worked for Carol’s benefit, though, pumped up the adrenaline that enabled her to continue. “Crème fraiche completes the smooth soup, and as you can see, its color has now changed into light velvety green.” Her eyes haven’t. “A very quickly poached quail egg puts the final touch to this delightful amuse,” she summed up.

“Moving on to one of my current favorites: monkfish with anchovy butter and puree of parsnip…” Carol’s train of thought was cut off once again but this time it wasn’t Therese’s eyes distracting her. She had hidden her fidgeting hands under the table but now they were not alone anymore. Another hand right next to Carol touched hers decisively lacing their fingers together.

Perfect. When? – Very Soon.

Yes.

Chapter Text

”See, swirl, sniff, sip and savor – who knows what these are?” Dannie stood in front of his colleagues pointing at the flip chart. ”Some delicious form of foreplay?” offered Genevieve coaxing giggles out of her fellow team members. Leaning against the counter, Therese took an appraising look at Carol letting her eyes wander all over her. Her green eyes seemed darker than usual, Carol noticed feeling a sudden shiver run up her spine.

It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her so intensively. There had been possessiveness in Harge’s stare, longing in Abby’s and both of them had watched her with growing jealousy. Yet Carol couldn’t remember a single second when either one of them had observed her with such passionate – what would be the right word for it? – with such passionate determination.

”C’mon, guys, cut it out… the five basic steps in tasting wine.” Dannie was peeved to get his share of the adolescent snickering he himself usually served up in abundance. ”We haven’t even started yet and you are already out of control…” he continued aggrieved. ”Okay, take your seats,” Carol interrupted leading her team to sit down at the large round table set in the middle of the room. The table was laid out with glasses of various shapes and volumes, each meant for a different type of wine they were about to sample this afternoon.

The minute Carol sat down at the table both seats next to her were taken. ”What the fuck is this? Musical chairs?” wondered Phil out loud watching Therese and Abby hogging the places on either side of chef Aird. The rest of the team wasn’t really paying attention to Phil’s quip, Carol noted gratefully. This promises to be some tasting for sure, she mused far too aware of the women right next to her. She was happy to have Therese so close to her but Abby’s proximity was unnerving to say the least.

”Guys, guys… make sure you make use of the spittoons placed in front of you,” Dannie instructed, ”I’m not gonna carry you out of here.” Phil snorted at his brother’s advice. ”As if! You expect me to spit out the fine wine you’ve taken such pains to treat us to?” Tommy shared the sentiment. ”I won’t have anything to do with such alcohol abuse,” he stated emphatically. Jeanette and Genevieve sat on their seats impatient to get started with the real deal everyone had been looking forward to.

”How about we begin now?” Maddie French suggested cautiously. Her shiny auburn hair lent her an aura of kind intelligence which appealed to Carol in the midst of the commotion the rest of the gang seemed to be relishing in. She’s gentle and bright, Carol thought watching their latest staff member help Dannie fill the first glasses. Just like my Therese.

The easy acknowledgment startled Carol who wasn’t at all comfortable with it. My Therese? A few hours in a cold storage and I’m hallucinating... She recalled Therese’s hand seeking hers under the kitchen counter and remembering it, she sneaked a look at the beautiful brunette on her right. Therese was minding her own business yet there was a distinct flush on her cheeks, on her neck – a flush Carol was immeasurably happy to notice for she had seen it already a few times before. A flush of desire evident in the rese, on the floor of the walk-in freezer. 

Carol felt the right side of her body heat up, tingle with titillation and excitement. Therese was like a radiator raising the temperature of the entire room, glowing so relentlessly the gap of air between them vibrated. Abby, however, was Therese’s polar opposite. Polar, indeed, Carol scoffed to herself. I’m stuck between an angry glacier and a flirty vulcano, she mused nervously. Luckily Dannie just then decided to pick up where he had left.

”We will only taste the red wines today,” Dannie explained. ”But first let me say a few words on them in general.” He knew how to hold an audience if he wanted to. ”Everything comes down to the grape variety itself. You can have the best climate, the most suitable terrain and the world champion winemaker but if you don’t have the right grape, you have nothing.” Dannie stressed the last word dramatically. ”There are about two thousand varieties around the world but only fifty of them count as noteworthy.” Carol sensed movement on her right. ”The most important ones drop the sum total to twelve and this includes both reds and whites.” He proceeded to write the relevant ones on the flip chart.

THE REDS

CABERNET SAUVIGNON – ”Revered as the most important variety of them all. A bit aggressive and even bitter on its own, but when blended with, say, Merlot, a finely balanced softie.” Abby squirmed in her chair which was enough to make Carol terribly self-conscious.  

“Let’s start with the first wine, Cabernet,” Dannie enthused swirling the graceful liquid in his glass. “This is from the Napa Valley… anyone want to take a crack at the aromas?” Therese was happy to accept the challenge. Smelling the wine for quite a while and only then sipping it, a delighted smile appeared on her face. “Crushed blackberries… cassis liquer, definitely… buttered toast?” Her voice rose towards the end. Pleased, Dannie nodded. “Yeah, it’s the elaborate oak coming through. A splendid balance though, don’t you think?” he wanted to make sure. “Yes, it’s not overshadowing the fruitiness at all,” Therese marveled. “Dry and rich tannins,” quipped Abby unexpectedly. “But smooth nevertheless,” Carol pointed out, “Kudos, Dannie, this is a dramatic, world class find!” Hearing her words, Dannie almost blushed. “Gee, thanks, chef – and it really gets better and better as it breathes in the glass.” The trio of women participating in the first taste of the day fell silent as suddenly as it had come alive.      

Carol took a sip of her Cabernet. It felt like such a shame to spit it away but she knew she had to keep her wits about her. Sitting between Abby and Therese was volatile enough without alcohol thrown in the mix. The others were busy downing their drinks after first fumbling attempts at savoring them on their palates. Dannie wasn’t pleased with his friends but he continued all the same. “You need to appreciate first the appearance,” he held his glass against the white wall, “then the aroma emanating from the glass, and only after these two steps you get to feel the sensations inside your mouth.” Hearing Phil and Tommy snicker, Dannie sighed.       

MERLOT – ”An ample-bodied and soft variety, ready to be paired with food or enjoyed on its own. A real gem if you ask me – its taste only keeps intensifying, increasing once you have it in your mouth.” Barely recovered from Abby’s discontent, Carol became aware of Therese’s eyes lingering on her again. She decided to focus on the row of glasses on the white linen cloth instead. Something about the orderly arrangement of plates, silverware and, in this case, elegant crystal glasses always calmed her nerves. A quick glance at her right however did not: Carol saw the slender fingers of her sous-chef tracing the rim of the exquisite Riedel glass in front of her. She’s only caressing the glass yet it is me who feels fragile. 

Third round of decanted wine appeared on the table while Dannie underlined the next one to be sampled. 

SYRAH/SHIRAZ – ”One of the oldest grapes, originally from Iran, the taste of Syrah or Shiraz as it’s known in the West depends a great deal on its place of origin, namely the conditions in which it was cultivated. Strong color, rich, voluptuous taste and smell.” Carol kept looking at the glass in front of her hoping no one would notice the strong, deepening color on her face.

“What you have in your glasses is most likely the most famous wine of Australia, and it is indeed a weighty motherfucker.” Again Carol cringed at Dannie’s words but as long as he refrained using such foul language in front of the patrons, she was happy to let him shoot his mouth in the test kitchen. Tommy savored his mouthful with gusto. “A lot of oak in this one?” he commented apprehensively, “It’s a huge oak and fruit combine, Tommy!” Genevieve laughed, “It’s a monster of a wine, and I love it!” What on earth was in the first two glasses Genevieve drank, Carol worried. Fuck, we haven’t eaten lunch yet! The poor girl was tasting wine with an empty stomach.

“Toasted coconut and vanilla, at least?” Therese offered eagerly. “Good going, Belivet, I knew I could trust you,” Dannie grinned. “What else?” he egged Therese on. “Umm… berries are quite intense, that’s for sure, and the texture is really tight…” It was as if she were giving birth to each word as they happened to fall out of her wine rouged lips. By now Carol realized Therese was tipsy as well. “I love a mature vintage…” Miss Belivet gave Carol her most radiant smile before turning to Abby. “Know what?” she asked her. “What?” Abby replied dumbfounded. Therese put her hand on the back of Carol’s chair. “Wine makes me naughty… in a good way.” Oo-kay, it’s time for… what was it again I heard someone call it once? Time for a shitshow.

“By tasting, we are trying to figure out the complexity and character of a wine, its suitability for drinking or alternatively, for aging. And of course we should be able to scan its flaws as well.” Dannie was visibly confused growing more and more worried by what he witnessed. No one except Carol and Maddie were using the spittoons – all the others were gulping their fine wines with abandon. “Moving on to one of my favorites next…” Dannie looked around concerned.

PINOT NOIR – ”A rather fickle grape, I must say… not an easy one for any wine maker because the climate has to be just right. This is a real l’enfant sauvage that needs not only constant care but also good luck to become the amazingly lush variety it can be at its best. It’s wonderfully fruity and acidic, frivolously rich and stylish.” Dannie paused for a minute to admire his own handy work. ”Pinot noir is earthy at times, even overpowering, if one is not used to such boldness.” Carol nearly jumped off her seat when she felt a slight touch on her thigh. Her cheeks burning up, she refused to look at Therese.

GRENACHE/GARNACHA – ”Châteauneuf-du-Pape, anyone? Does it ring a bell?” The chefs nodded their somewhat drowsy agreement. “Grenache – Garnacha in Spain – is the soloist of this very region. This variety loves to be blended with others yet for it to accomplish the best possible end result Grenache should dominate as it usually does in better wines.”

As Dannie was speaking, it was Therese’s hand that was doing the dominating on Carol’s thigh. Starting just above her knee, it moved very slowly upwards leaving a luscious trail at its wake. I need this, Carol thought grabbing the stem of her glass and swallowing a mouthful of an exciting blend of Garnacha and Tempranillo from Rioja, Spain. She couldn’t however hear a thing Dannie was saying. Carol could see his lips moving, the glasses around the table rising in slow motion. She had to concentrate on her own breathing, it was all she heard as if under water, and it seemed to require all her strength. Therese’s hand lied heavily on her lubricious skin like an old-fashioned iron left too long at the same spot of a too sensitive fabric.   

When she finally came to her senses again, Dannie and Maddie were preparing the sixth set of glasses.

TEMPRANILLO – “Tempranillo is really big in Spain, and paired with Grenache it’s a match made in heaven, as you just experienced. Never an angry mouthful, it’s usually rather kind and soft which covers the tannins as well.” Noticing what was happening under Therese’s side of the table, Abby looked like she had an angry mouthful ready to be launched at Carol any minute now. 

The seventh round of glasses looked already like a veritable coup de grace for the seriously inebriated kitchen staff.

SANGIOVESE – “This is a fucking beauty… what a class act. If you’re ever in Tuscany, you’re in for a treat. Never too heavy or too overpowering, Sangiovese maintains its fresh and delightfully biting charm so prominent in some of the best Italian wines.” Despite Abby’s glaring, Carol could hardly think anything other than the fresh and biting charm of her bold sous-chef. Therese’s hand had stopped at mid-thigh seemingly uncertain if it could continue its daring climb.

ZINFANDEL/PRIMITIVO – “These two, Zinfandel and Primitivo, are in fact one and the same variety. If you want a really tasty, juicy and full-bodied wine, look no further – Zinfandel’s your bitch…” Dannie’s choice of a word startled Carol – or was it Therese whose palm pressed her thigh needily, insistently. Feeling the excitement of her own intensifying arousal, Carol turned to look at her. Biting her lower lip fervently, Therese’s eyes darted around her bosom, her neck and lips before taking a slow look at her own hand on Carol’s thigh. Her pupils dilating, the greenness of Therese’s eyes dimmed into wanton haze with only their rims adorned with the usual emerald glitter.  

Screw dinner, I can’t wait. There was urgency in their shared gaze, and it was so palpable, it made Carol’s chest heave intermittently. I’ll show you heavy and overpowering with some ample-bodied boldness to match. Carol stared at Therese hoping to convey every single, sexual impulse blinding her brain at the moment. She was suddenly beside herself, giddy with abrupt desire shooting out of her subconscious like a spouting hot spring breaking earth’s surface.

Looking at Therese she was finally convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt. It would happen soon – I wonder if we even make it out of the kitchen, Carol mused imagining a kiss so long awaited. In her mind’s eye she pictured herself bending the petit brunette against the counter and covering her lips with her uncompromising mouth. Christ, I can’t be thinking about this right now! The way her hands would roam inside Therese’s chef jacket… Wine, more wine – isn’t this supposed to be a wine tasting? As if reading her thoughts, Dannie got up on his feet. “I forgot the Chianti in the kitchen!” He seemed to hesitate. “I’ll get it. I need to use the bathroom anyway...” Therese cast a sly look at Carol and headed towards the kitchen. It’s on, Carol thought her breathing growing agitated once more. How do I do this? Can I follow her to the bathroom? Is she in the bathroom at all? The excited thoughts whirling around in her brain bumped wildly into each other.

“What the fuck was that?” Dannie shouted bolting towards the door. Another pained cry reached finally Carol’s ears. Therese?! She wasted no time following in Dannie’s hurried footsteps.

What waited them in the kitchen nearly stopped Carol’s heart for a second. Therese lay on the floor unable to get up. Her face was almost chalky white, and she was in sheer agony.

Carol glanced over at Therese as she jammed on the accelerator of her Tesla Model S, soaring down the main street towards the nearest hospital.  Therese looked pale and helpless as she stared blankly out the window, slumped down in the leather seat. Carol was kicking herself.  Who the fuck didn’t clean up that fucking sauce?  She gritted her teeth.  No… it’s my fault. My kitchen, my responsibility.

After her and Dannie had found Therese lying prone on the kitchen floor, Carol had rushed to her side, stroking Therese’s face softly. She had found her eyes filling with tears to match the ones streaming down Therese’s cheeks. No. Shit shit shit.

“Let me help,” Dannie was babbling. “I should’ve made sure the kitchen was clean… I’m sorry… Oh my god…”

“No!” Carol had found herself yelling. “Therese is my concern.  I mean… this. The staff.  You are all under my charge.  I’ll deal with this.”  She told Dannie to finish up the wine tasting and get everybody the hell out of there. And don’t let fucking Abby in here, she thought angrily.

Carol had contemplated picking up Therese in her arms like a damsel in distress, but Therese wasn’t having it.  She was pale and clammy, but she was able to speak, and to lift herself up to a sitting position. “I’m okay, Carol. Just help me get up and I’ll go get this checked out somewhere. Ugh. Jesus. Well, that sobered me up.”  Therese tried to laugh, but she could only wince.

“I’m coming with you,” Carol had said, and without another word she had reached out and slid her arms around Therese, feeling the warmth of her body against her as she helped her stand up. Therese’s arms had draped around her neck, and she had buried her face in Carol’s shoulder, hissing in pain at the agony of bearing weight on her leg.  It was her right leg that she was holding up gingerly, and Therese had pressed her mouth against Carol’s neck as she grimaced and tried to shift around.

Carol had helped Therese carefully out of the kitchen, and they had made their way out the back door, slowly shuffling towards the Tesla parked out back. Carol had wrapped a strong arm around Therese’s waist and had tried to hold the weight of her body up so that the young sous-chef wouldn’t be in as much pain as they had hobbled over to her car.

Carol sighed as she remembered the feeling of Therese’s mouth pressing against her neck as they had stood there together for a moment in the kitchen, Therese breathing heavily as she tried to swallow the pain. Carol had held on to her tightly, wishing that she could take some of that pain away. She felt awful; how could she have let this happen?  Fucking disaster.

Feeling frustrated, Carol pushed the Tesla to go faster and went gliding through an orange stop light. The Tesla’s touchscreen map showed that they were close to the hospital now.

“Carol, slow down. It’s not like I’m going to die or anything. It’s just my leg.”

“Yes, you don’t need your leg at all, as a chef. I mean, who needs to walk? Or stand?” Carol scoffed.

“No need to panic. I’m going to be alright.”  Therese said, seemingly trying to reassure herself as well as Carol.  Therese reached a hand over and rested it on top of Carol’s as she drove.  The cool, air-conditioned car seemed to get warmer by a couple of degrees, and Carol looked over at Therese and smiled.

The waiting room was thankfully close to empty when they arrived, and Therese was triaged quickly and given a wheelchair to sit in once the nurse at the front desk saw the two of them hobbling pathetically through the doors.  The triage nurse was so friendly and reassuring that Carol started to feel a bit better about the situation.  These things happen, she thought. Accidents happen.  Then she had a horrible thought and felt a shiver travel through her body.  What if this is karma?  I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking the staff.  Is Abby right about all this?  Is this a punishment?

Carol didn’t like thinking that way. If this is wrong, well… what does right feel like?  She glanced over and saw Therese looking at her, trying to put on a brave face despite the pain she was in.  Carol remembered what had taken place at the wine tasting, only half an hour ago.  Feeling brave herself, Carol reached out and put her hand on Therese’s thigh, mirroring what Therese had done to her under the table. It wasn’t as erotic this time, but Carol still felt the connection between them, and a slow and searching warmth began to diffuse throughout her body. Therese just smiled and closed her eyes, letting Carol’s hand draw out some of the agony, injecting tenderness into her pained body.

About ten minutes later, a different nurse came by and explained to Therese and Carol that there was a room available.  The nurse pushed Therese in her wheelchair and Carol followed a few steps behind, feeling useless.  They reached the room, and again Carol watched, helpless, as the nurse carefully helped Therese up onto the stretcher.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and into a gown,” the nurse said, closing the privacy curtain in the room and waiting for Therese to start undressing.  “You can leave on your underwear.”

Carol felt herself get very hot all of a sudden, especially when Therese’s dark green eyes met hers and a smirk spread across her face.  Did she really want to see Therese half-naked for the first time right now, injured in a hospital bed?  It doesn’t seem quite right…Or does it?

“Uh… I’ll just come back… in, in a minute,” Carol said, stammering. “You must be starving. I’ll go grab a snack for you.”

“There’s a couple of vending machines just outside,” the nurse said, and turned around to help Therese take off her shirt.  Carol blushed as she caught a glimpse of Therese’s bra, and pushed her way quickly through the curtain and back into the department, feeling like she was flailing around as she looked for the vending machines.

Carol found a couple of machines selling drinks, chips and chocolate bars in the waiting room. There’s a time for a sophisticated palate, and there’s a time to be a trash queen, Carol thought. She bought a couple of chocolate bars and a bottle of water from the vending machine and opened one of the bars as she walked back to Therese’s room.  I’m nervous, she realized as she shoved chocolate in her mouth. I just want her to be okay. What if she’s really hurt? What if she can’t work with me anymore?

When Carol returned to the room, she saw that one of the Emergency doctors had arrived, and was inspecting Therese’s leg.  Carol couldn’t help but notice how adorable Therese looked in her pale blue, flimsy hospital gown.  She also felt slightly disappointed at how much of Therese’s skin the gown actually covered up.

Carol squeezed past the doctor and took a seat in the chair by Therese’s head.  The blonde female doctor gave Carol a passing glance as she continued her examination.  She looks familiar, Carol thought. She’s quite beautiful.  Carol felt a flare of annoyance and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“The ligament runs through the middle of your knee,” the doctor was saying, holding onto Therese’s leg carefully.  “It goes from here to here…” Carol glared as the doctor traced a finger gently from the side of Therese’s thigh, across her kneecap and onto her shin. “It provides stability for the knee. So if you’ve torn it... well, you might need surgery.”

“Surgery?!” Carol said, rather stridently.  The blonde doctor met her eyes in surprise, as though she finally realized that Carol was there.  Carol felt her own eyes narrowing as she stared back into the woman’s. She couldn’t help but notice that the doctor’s eyes were of a similar colour to her own.  Get your hands off my Therese, Carol thought.  The doctor raised an eyebrow and turned back to Therese.

“This is called the Lachman test,” the doctor said. Therese lay back on the stretcher as the blonde doctor held onto her injured knee.  Carol scowled as the doctor moved her hand up to grasp onto Therese’s thigh and placed the other behind her knee, pulling the shin forward. Therese made a strangled sound as her lower leg moved forward in a way that didn’t seem quite right. Carol felt sick. She reached out for Therese’s hand, which the young woman grabbed and held onto tightly.

The blonde doctor looked at their intertwined hands and a small, knowing smile appeared on her face. She made eye contact with Therese. “It might not be torn. It’s only moving a little. You may have just stretched it when you fell on the sauce, and just twisted your knee.  Did you hear or feel a pop?”

“No,” Therese said. “It hurt a lot; it twisted… but I didn’t feel anything like that.”

The doctor smiled at Therese and patted her leg reassuringly.  “We’ll see; we can do an MRI. You might be lucky. But you are still going to need some physiotherapy to get the muscles stronger in any case.  You’ll need to build up some muscle around the knee in case you do need surgery, and to prevent this from happening again, either way.”  The blonde doctor placed her hand on Therese’s thigh again. “These quads need some work,” she said with a laugh.

The doctor looked over at Carol and saw her glowering at her.  If looks could kill.

The blonde physician stood up suddenly, sensing a shift in tone within the room. She cleared her throat.  "Right," she said. "So, we'll make you an appointment for an MRI so we can see the extent of the damage.  That should be in a day or two.  One of the Emerg clerks will come and give you the information."  

The doctor placed her hand on Therese's bare foot for a moment, letting it linger there. "Don't worry, okay, honey?  You'll be alright."

"Thank you so much, doctor," said Therese, smiling sweetly at the beautiful Emergency doctor.

"YES. THANK YOU VERY MUCH," Carol said, loudly. The doctor jumped slightly, nodded, and left the room. Carol could have sworn that she saw her rolling her eyes.

Therese was pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh. She knew exactly what was happening, Carol thought.  What a little shit.

“Trying to make me jealous?” Carol muttered, looking into Therese’s eyes.  Therese just shrugged, grinning. Carol noticed that familiar flush creeping into Therese’s cheeks and neck again. Carol edged a bit closer, wondering if this should be the moment.  Should I kiss her?  Therese was watching her intently, as if willing Carol to do so.  Carol leaned in another inch.

Just then, one of the Emerg clerks came into the room, holding Therese's appointment paper for her MRI.  Carol and Therese were both startled, and averted their eyes from each other.  Jesus fucking Christ.

"Here you go," said the young woman, holding out the paper.  When she made eye contact with Carol, she stared at her for several unflinching seconds.  Carol stared back.  She looks a lot like Therese, she thought.  Same dark hair and green eyes. Gorgeous, just like my Therese. She smiled warmly at the woman and reached out for the paper she held.

"Thank you, darling," Carol said, taking the appointment sheet and folding it in half.  She heard Therese make a sound on her left that sounded a lot like, “Hmph.”

"There’s also a prescription there for T3’s. They'll take the edge off. You can fill it upstairs,” the young woman continued, still gaping at Carol with curiosity. “If you come over to my desk, too, I can give you a leg stabilizer. We have to charge for that, but it’s not too pricey.  I would recommend that for sure.  It’s like a brace; keeps the leg in place so it doesn’t keep popping out.”

Carol grimaced at the thought of Therese’s knee being in such grim shape, but she already knew that she would do whatever it took to help Therese. She would pay anything, and do anything, to help her get better.  I’ve got to help her heal.  I need her.

“Thank you so much for your help,” Carol said brightly to the young clerk.  “I’ll be right over to see you.”

The brunette smiled widely and raised an eyebrow at Carol.  “No problem at all. See you in a minute,” she said, and left.

When Carol turned around, Therese had her arms crossed and was giving Carol an indecipherable look. Who’s jealous now?  Carol thought, smiling to herself.  But I know there’s only one person that I’m interested in.

Carol stood up and grabbed her purse.  “Therese,” she said, and reached over to take her hand. Carol had to pry it out from under Therese’s arm where it had been angrily jammed.  Carol held Therese’s hand gently, rubbing her fingers across the skin.  “I’ll go take care of this.  I’ll get you everything you need.  And then I’ll take you home… or wherever you want to go.  I know that you’re going to need some help getting around.  So…”

Therese looked up at Carol, finally, her eyes filled with anticipation.  “So…?” she asked.

“So, if you want to come to my place for a few days… I mean, if there’s nobody else that can help you… Then, well… that would be okay with me.”

Carol leaned over and pressed her lips gently against Therese’s cheek.  “You think about it,” she said. Therese just looked at her, dumbfounded.  “Oh.  And here’s a chocolate bar,” Carol finished, putting the candy and the water on the bed next to Therese.

As she left the room, Carol felt herself break out into a cold sweat.  Did I really just ask her to stay at my place?  Fuck, how much of a lesbian am I?

Chapter Text

It was late. Carol stood by the kitchen sink with a glass in her hand. The water was pouring out of the faucet but she seemed oblivious as what to do with it. Yeah, water – a glass of water for Therese… They’d arrived already some time ago at Carol’s apartment and it had taken a while for her to help Therese out of the car and into the guest room upstairs. She’d sat patiently in one of the armchairs while Carol had made the bed for her. Therese’s drowsy eyes had followed her every move as Carol had taken care of everything – the sheets, the duvet cover, the blanket, an extra pillow – and finally helped her to hobble over to it.

It was perfectly logical of me to ask her to stay with me for a couple of days, she mused filling up the glass after what seemed like several gallons of perfectly drinkable water wasted down the drain. Therese had certainly accepted her kind invitation for its practicality – yes, that’s it. She needn’t worry excessively what her gesture might have implied at first. Well, maybe it hadn’t implied anything at all – not to Therese who had given her answer while already heavily medicated due to the severe pain in her knee. Sure, she’d started before closing her eyes momentarily to suppress the discomfort overwhelming her once more. Carol had taken her hand and held it tenderly just to remind her she was there for her even if she couldn’t take the pain away.

So much had happened so fast it confused Carol as she walked slowly up the stairs. They’d been close to a kiss, she couldn’t deny it, and she herself had made an unexpected remark of being jealous over some stupid ass doctor. What a bitch that one, Carol fumed remembering the blonde doctor poking and groping Therese’s thigh. No wonder I overreacted.

Approaching the guest room she felt suddenly nervous again. The mere idea of having Therese under her roof overnight was unnerving to say the least but after all they’d gone through in just a few short hours made it even more nerve wracking. Should I kiss her now? Carol thought drawing a deep breath to calm her agitated mind. No one will interrupt us, that’s for sure. Even Rindy was away, still at her father’s till late tomorrow afternoon. I look like a mess, she sighed, glancing at the wall mirror next to the door. It didn’t however affect the subconscious decision she’d made only a fraction of a second ago. This is it. At least she’ll know right off the bat how I look after a grueling day at work.

The light on the night table was on but Therese, exhausted and delicate lying on the bed her injured leg carefully elevated, was definitely off. Her snoring made Carol smile widely as she adjusted Therese’s pillow slightly. Having switched the light off, she sat down next to her. It took a while for her to get used to the sudden darkness but when she did, Therese’s sleeping face came into focus again, its lovely contours finally at ease after all the agony she’d endured after the mishap in the kitchen.

Therese looked so calm, so relaxed Carol was overcome by such tenderness for her she could hardly contain herself. Looking at her pale, slender arms resting effortlessly on her sides, Carol felt relieved and grateful – and happy. I hope she feels safe here with me, she mused watching how Therese’s chest rose and fell in tempo of her even breathing. She marveled the sight of her, and while doing so, she remembered a beginning of a stanza heard long ago and thought already forgotten.

 Slumber lie soft on thy beautiful eye…

The next morning was nothing short of chaotic. Having first dozed off in the chair, the sleep had for the most part eluded Carol till the early hours of the dawn. Somehow she had managed to kill her alarm for when she finally opened her eyes, it was way past her wake up time. Carol had hoped to have at least an hour to make Therese a decent breakfast but the clock was ticking fast, and she had to content herself to take her a tray of coffee and toast instead.

She knocked on the guest room door and having heard Therese’s reply, stepped inside with the seriously lacking breakfast spread. “Good morning,” she said shyly to her in-patient who seemed somewhat disoriented to find herself at Carol’s home. “How are you feeling?” Therese shrugged coyly. “Okay, I guess… I kept waking up every time I moved a muscle.” Her eyes weary, she didn’t look too well rested. “I’m sorry but I’m afraid I must be on my way like in five minutes but I’ve arranged you a ride to the MRI…” Surprised, Therese looked at Carol. “A chauffeur will pick you up at noon, and take you there, and he’ll wait till you’re done and bring you back here – if it’s okay with you?” Carol’s voice was suddenly cautious and uncertain of itself.

“You shouldn’t have gone to such trouble… I could’ve taken care of it myself,” Therese mumbled her answer. “It’s no trouble at all, really,” Carol explained nervously, “and you are – I mean all of you working for me are – under my charge.” Therese looked at her sharply. “This is the least I can do…” she added desperately, “I intend to take good care of my staff…” What the fuck are you saying, woman? Your staff?

Hearing Carol’s words, Therese averted her eyes from her nodding barely noticeably. “Okay, fine.” The tone of her voice was sullen enough to rattle Carol who cursed herself for being so vague in her choice of words. She mustered up her courage to try again.

“Therese…” The green eyes searched for her once more. “Yes?” Carol gazed at her willing herself to find the right way to express what she really wanted to say. “You will be here when I come back, won’t you?” The sullenness disappeared, softened into a cautious smile. “Because I want you to… be here… when I come back.” By now it was a full-fledged smile yet a sweet, unassuming one that appealed to Carol in its honest simplicity. “Yes, I will be here.”

Everyone wanted to know how Therese was doing, and Carol had her hands full trying both to put her staff’s minds at ease and to get them to do something useful during the workshop. But her own mind was wandering as well, and by noon, she was painfully aware that this would be a worthless day for everyone present. Pain… she remembered, I wonder what they’re saying at the MRI? She must be there already.

Abby was gone the entire day. Something had happened over at the renovation site, and even though such knowledge would have in other circumstances worried Carol immensely, right now she was only grateful to avoid her presence, to have her out of her hair. Abby knew everything and it was only a matter of the two of them getting together to have it all out in the open. Carol dreaded the outcome of their imminent confrontation but she had also made her choice. She couldn’t hold back, not even if she wanted to and to be honest, she didn’t even care to try.

“So… how’s Therese coping with her injury? It must be difficult for her to get around.” Maddie’s smile was curious. “Umm… yes, of course it is,” Carol managed. “Is she getting any help?” pried the headwaiter not quite so innocently. Oh hell, who am I kidding. I might as well just tell her the truth. “Actually, she’s staying with me for a couple days – just to be on the safe side,” Carol admitted aware of Maddie’s all too keen interest.

“How very kind of you, chef Aird… we’re very lucky to have a thoughtful boss like you.” Carol glanced at Maddie trying to figure out if she was mocking her. She wasn’t. In fact, Maddie French looked awfully pleased. Carol wasn’t fooling her, that was evident, but for some reason, her answer, her taking a special interest in her sous-chef, brought a warm, approving smile on Maddie’s face. “Do tell her I said hi – and that I think she should stay put at your place… just in case.” What a peculiar thing to say.

Carol dismissed her team relatively early. She was anxious to get back home, to hear how everything had gone with Therese’s appointment. As she was looking for her keys, she heard someone open the door from the inside. Rindy. “Gee, thanks, mom for telling me we had company… lucky for her she’s using a leg brace and crutches – otherwise I would’ve hit her with a baseball bat.” I forgot to tell Rindy about Therese! Rindy was snickering at her embarrassment. “It’s okay, I like her – and we’ve been having a great time.”

Carol noticed Therese standing in the back. She had one of Carol’s aprons on. “Come on in,” she said smiling gently at Carol, “we’ve cooked dinner for you.” As Therese turned around, Carol gasped involuntarily. The apron did a splendid job covering her front side but as Therese hobbled away shifting her weight to the crutches Carol could see she was wearing only a tank top and a pair of micro shorts underneath it.

Rindy and Therese had set the table together – though Rindy had done most of the job, Therese specified complimenting her for a job well done. “You should come and work at the restaurant,” she grinned at the girl who was overwhelmed by the attention Therese was showering her with. Carol was blown away by the uncanny rapport between the two of them. Her daughter who rarely warmed up to anyone older than her peers seemed to have taken an instant liking to Therese.

Therese had good news. The MRI had revealed that she had just stretched the ligament in her knee. No surgery was needed, only a few weeks of recovery and physiotherapy to literally get her back on her feet again. “You look like someone straight out of a sci-fi film,” laughed Rindy pointing at the brand new knee brace Therese was wearing on her injured foot. Although Carol did see the brace – how could one not? – her attention was focused on the soft, exposed skin of Therese’s slim thigh.

Rindy was fussing over Therese’s knee almost as much as Carol had done the previous night. “You shouldn’t be moving around so much…” she admonished precociously, “it’ll only cause swelling and make it even harder for you to heal.” Exchanging glances with Therese, Carol tried not to smile at Rindy’s enthusiasm. Then again it was a happy smile, something she knew she didn’t necessarily need to hide at all. My two favorite girls together.

“So what’s for dinner?” Carol asked a sly smile making its way on her crimson lips. “Oh, it’s a true masterpiece,” Therese exclaimed playfully. “A meal fit for a king… and in this particular case, for the little…” noticing Rindy’s frown she was quick to correct, “…for the wise-beyond-her-years princess here.” Both cooks were now beaming at each other. “Spaghetti and meatballs!” Rindy giggled excitedly. “I did most of the work… well, Therese did sort of help me.” Therese moved next to Rindy and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You did it, no doubt about it.”

The dinner was lovely. For Carol it was one of the best – if not the very best – of her entire life. She sat in rapture watching her daughter and Therese, the one holding the yet unstated but much hoped for role in her life, immersed in animated conversation. What they really talked about didn’t matter to Carol for she was just enjoying the sight, relishing every second of it.

The red wine poured into her glass tasted very different from last night. It tasted of home and relaxed intimacy, of family and companionship. Every sip was flooded with warm glances, with soft, round movements of hands accompanying funny stories. And when it trickled down her throat it left a gentle, fulfilling aftertaste that lingered on and on never really disappearing at all.

Every once in a while their eyes met over the candle-lit table creating a space, a magical sphere of understanding and affection. The room fell silent, all of its sharp corners and severe angles suddenly defunct. There was only Therese in Carol’s line of vision – sweet, loving Therese framed by the velvety shadows of reality drifting ever further apart from her as each new minute came by only to bid its fond, bittersweet farewell.

Carol gazed at Therese’s bare arms either resting on the table or poking mischievously Rindy’s ticklish side. The way they moved, settled on the back of her daughter’s chair or reached out to pour more wine in their glasses was mesmerizing to Carol. How her fingers played with a silver locket dangling in a thin chain between her collarbones only to find their route back to her pensive lips. I am jealous of her fingers, Carol realized watching how those shapely tips absentmindedly brushed the sensuous surface of Therese’s mouth.           

“Wanna watch a movie with me?” Rindy’s question interrupted Carol’s reverie. “I have this school assignment and it’s late already, so I really must do it tonight.” Therese looked at Carol quizzically. “I guess… so?” she started looking for Carol’s approval. “Of course, dear. Popcorn, anyone?” she headed towards the kitchen while Rindy helped Therese on the sofa.

“What film are we going to watch?” Carol asked when she returned with the bowlful of the quintessential movie snacks. “Desert Hearts,” Rindy quipped inserting the disc into the dvd player. Oh fuck.

Although Therese registered her stunned expression, Carol realized immediately Therese had no clue whatsoever as what kind of a film they were about to watch together. This. Is. Going. To. Be. Torture. Excited to share her evening’s entertainment, Rindy parked herself between her mother and Therese. “This is like a real old film,” she explained to Therese. “Oh yeah? Like an old Hollywood movie you mean?” Therese inquired. “Hmmph… not that old. This was done like in the 80s or something.” Rindy shoved some popcorn into her mouth. “It’s about two women who meet in Reno and become friends, that’s all I know,” she elaborated. “Our English teacher insisted we watch this to ‘broaden our horizons’… whatever that means.” Am I really the only one old enough to know what this movie is all about?

“Your English teacher – Mrs. Robichek?” Carol specified. “Yup, she’s the one.” The opening credits were nearly over. “Is she married?” Carol had to ask the one last question. “No, she isn’t. I think she has a room mate or something…” Rindy’s attention was already on the film. Or something… Thank you very much, Mrs. Robichek.

It didn’t take very long for Rindy and Therese to realize what kind of a film they were watching. “Cool…” was all Rindy managed to say before her jaw dropped for good during the women’s love making scene at the motel. Therese had started squirming in her seat already some time before. While Rindy was sitting at the edge of the sofa, Carol looked at Therese willing her to meet her gaze. She did.

Slowly Carol extended her hand to touch Therese’s arm resting on the back of the sofa. She laced their fingers together for a quick second. Then, without her daughter noticing, she leaned closer to her – just a couple of inches to her left – to press Therese’s palm against her heated cheek, to kiss her head line, heart line and the girdle of Venus of her softly ridged hand. Her chest heaving erratically, Therese closed her eyes savoring the sensation Carol’s lips created.

Rindy moving restlessly, they let go off the caress but their eyes remained locked throughout the rest of the movie, throughout the one truly epic line Desert Hearts or rather the author Jane Rule once penned regarding the love so vividly depicted:

 “She reached in and put a string of lights around my heart…”

Chapter Text

“Carol!” Abby’s angry voice reached Carol’s eardrums the minute she walked into the test kitchen. Now it starts. No one else had yet arrived so they’d have an hour or so to take it out in the open. I guess this is as good a time as any, Carol sighed wearily.

“How’s your love life? Been getting some?” Abby came dangerously close. “No, I wouldn’t say so. I have an injured employee resting at my house because she can’t get around without help, so no, I wouldn’t call it getting some,” Carol snapped impatiently. She had had just about enough, and she wasn’t going to take any of Abby’s shit anymore. “Don’t you have anything better to do than indulge in your deranged ideas about me?” she continued angrily. “Really, Abby? That’s what our friendship has come to?” Abby was glaring at her without saying a word.

“You want to pull out now? A month before we open?” Carol mustered up all her courage for yet another attack. “Go ahead, do it. Take your money and run, leave us all stranded, I’m sure it’ll make you feel better about yourself!” She wasn’t going to get away so easily. Abby was about to speak her mind. “I told you my terms and I saw what happened at the tasting. Maybe it wasn’t your fault, I haven’t made up my mind about it yet.” She was obviously willing to give Carol the benefit of a doubt. “But I sure know you didn’t mind the attention…” Sighing, Abby leaned against one of the counters.

"Don’t you get it? I mean this for real. If you cross the line – if I get any inkling that you’ve indeed done so – I will be out of the door so quickly you won’t even have time to notice it.” Carol stared at her silently. “I don’t care about the money I may lose, I’ve got plenty of it but you are not going to humiliate me any more, you understand?” Abby meant business and it worried Carol. She had called her bluff but now Carol knew she was for real. Her one time best friend would definitely pull the plug if push came to shove. “Fine. Threaten all you want. But there’s nothing you can complain about.” What else could she have said anyway? 

“When do we get to see the restaurant?” Dannie asked when the entire team had gathered around Carol and Abby. “Within a day or two,” Abby specified. “I do have some pictures with me if you care to take a look at them.” She clicked open the laptop folder containing floor plan and the digital photos of the brand new kitchen. “Have you told your staff the name of the restaurant? After all we’re taking reservations already.” Ignoring Abby Carol focused all her attention on the curious team members. “I don’t think I have… let me see – Abigail, do you have the drawings of the front entrance somewhere there?” Without a word Abby opened the requested file.

Carol smiled seeing her own invention appeal to her co-workers as well:

d’Air

“It’s wonderful!” Genevieve exclaimed. “I love it – it’s refined, provocative and playful, all those things at the same time.” Carol beamed at her chef de patissier. “Thank you. I certainly think so.” She was very pleased to see everybody looking so excited, asking questions about the different features of the kitchen, the characteristics of the dining room and the interior design in general. Abby answered patiently to each and every question, which allowed Carol to indulge in her own thoughts for a while. She thought of Therese, of how enthusiastically she would have reacted to the name. Carol felt alone in the test kitchen without her. The workshop sessions weren’t the same now that she was recuperating, going through physiotherapy to strengthen the muscles surrounding the strained ligament. It won’t be long now, she comforted herself, she’ll be back in no time and everything will be as it should be. But at the same time she knew it wouldn’t be easy at all, not with Abby’s eyes paying jealous attention to every move she made – to every look between Therese and herself.

“Before we part today I’d like to say a few words about the supertasters,” Carol began. “No, Tommy, I’m not referring to some comic book hero though you seem willing to make fun of this right now…” Looking embarrassed, Tommy quit whispering in Phil’s ear. “Some people have a perfect pitch, a rare ability to identify or recreate any given musical note without the benefit of a reference tone – I’m sure you’ve all heard about it?” Carol sought for signs of recognition within her staff.

“As far as tasting is concerned, some have a ‘perfect pitch’ regarding it as well,” she continued finally catching her team’s attention. “I have it to a certain extent, and I believe our absent sous-chef could make an even stronger case for the title of a supertaster.” The mere mention of Therese made Carol smile warmly. To recognize her among others even if only in a passing way invigorated her tremendously. Although Abby was frowning at her remark Carol wasn’t going to be rattled by her rudeness.

“A supertaster’s mouth and tongue form a wondrous instrument containing thousands and again thousands of microscopic receptors ready to react to the molecules of food and drink.” Carol found the topic endlessly fascinating, yet something about it seemed to bother her right now. What it was, she couldn’t yet tell. “I read from somewhere that a person can distinguish between as many as ten billion different tastes,” Jeanette pointed out.

“True,” Carol acknowledged, “but that’s only in theory. In reality we actually smell more than we taste. And there lies also one of the main reasons why the overall impression of a meal is so very important.” Maddie raised her hand. “So we can in a way ‘engineer’ the dining experience, is that what you’re saying, chef Aird?” Carol nodded. She was pleased to see her headwaiter take a keen interest in this topic in particular. “Indeed. We can for instance create scents to compliment the end result – squirting a mist of, say, lime grove fragrance over a like-minded dessert could seriously improve its impact.”      

Carol’s thoughts wandered again to Therese, to her assumed supertasting ability. She was certain Therese’s palate was impeccable for she had proved it so many times. Therese couldn’t be fooled at all – she was capable of dissecting any sensation entering her mouth with ruthless precision. What if she finds my taste repulsive? Carol was startled to find the root of her previous uneasiness.

“How does one recognize a supertaster? Sounds a bit vague to me.” Knotting his brow, Dannie folded her arms and waited for her answer. “There are actually several ways to identify one,” Carol explained candidly. “It can be tested for instance with a chemical called propylthiouracil, PROP for short. The test is easy – you either taste it or not. Those, who do, are supertasters, those, who don’t, are not, it’s as simple as that.” Such an oversimplification didn’t exactly convince Dannie who was suspicious by nature. “This is all a matter of genetic lottery, there’s nothing we can do about either way,” Carol offered as consolation should anyone need it.

“If you’re interested in finding out whether you are a supertaster, we can certainly test it some afternoon,” Carol volunteered, “Before we do it, you might like to think about your relation to certain foods that may indicate a supertasting ability.” Phil was eager to find out more. “Can you list some ingredients? Just a few?” he asked. “Well, if you have an aversion to, say, gin and tequila, it could be a sign of you being a supertaster. A strong dislike for cabbage and kale, grapefruit juice and even coffee and green tea may indicate the same,” Carol mentioned just to name a few most common items she could think of.

“Therese doesn’t particularly care for cabbage…” Genevieve mused out loud. “She isn’t that fond of kale either,” Jeanette added remembering their plans for the vegetarian menu. “Gin tonic represents a real horror for supertasters since they tend to shy away from both of its main elements,” Carol quipped looking at Dannie. “That leaves you out then right away, dear bro,” Phil chuckled. Dannie glared at him displeased.    

It was very late when Carol finally got home. The foyer was dim, and she couldn’t hear a thing. They must both be asleep already, occurred to Carol and the thought depressed her unexpectedly. She hung up her jacket and left her handbag on the table next to it. She wanted to get a drink, a one last moment to herself before sleep. She wasn’t exactly disappointed but somehow she had hoped to see Therese’s face if only for a second before closing her eyes.

“Hey…” a voice greeted her out of the darkness. Carol couldn’t help but smile. A flick of a match, then a flame no bigger than a tip of one’s finger lighting a candle, then another and another on the kitchen counter. Therese was standing behind it reciprocating her smile, broadening it even further. She looked like a magician presenting her craft and the objects of her shadowy illusions for Carol – strawberries, blueberries, cherries and passion fruit, pomegranates, pineapple and grapes. You look wonderful.

“Are you hungry?” Therese asked gazing at Carol’s eyes. “Yes,” she smiled back. “Oh yes.” Therese uncovered bowls right next to the berries and fruit. The condiments looked both familiar and unknown in the weak light of the night. “I won’t let you go hungry,” Therese said. “I will feed you.” Carol grinned at her unabashedly. “Please do. I’m starving.”

Supporting her weight on the crutches, Therese moved beside Carol. Relieving her foot from unnecessary strain, she lifted herself on one of the bar stools. Sitting, she was suddenly slightly taller than Carol and for a while it seemed to amuse them both. She picked up a strawberry, dipped it in whipped cream and brought it close to Carol’s lips. The lush berry resembled a small, plump heart. Not breaking eye contact, Carol opened her mouth to accept her offering.

The cream coated berry disappearing inside her mouth, she registered another sensation as well – the salty taste of Therese’s fingertips brushing lightly her moist lips. “You liked it?” Therese asked staring at her mouth. “Yes.” Once again the air between them was thick with intentions but this time Carol knew nothing would stand in their way of fulfilling them, of surrendering to them once and for all. It scared her as well like anything one had had to wait for an extended length of time – the expectations were tantamount to an otherworldly bliss, the fear of being a disappointment simply ridiculous. None of it mattered, though, in the grand scheme of their mutual attraction. They were gorgeous, stubborn objects flung out of space not seeking a same orbit but a collision that would shatter them irrefutably, breathlessly – perfectly.

Suddenly Carol knew she couldn’t wait anymore. The taste of strawberry still on her tongue she moved closer to Therese, made room for herself between her legs careful not to hurt her knee. “Feed me,” she whispered urgently fastening her hands just below Therese’s ribcage.

Feeling the pressure of her palms Therese inhaled sharply letting her left arm circle Carol just as determinedly as Carol had done only a heartbeat ago. Her right hand touching Carol’s face, wiping away a loose blonde tress, she leaned in to bring their heads closer one another. Parting their lips as if by mutual command, their mouths melted together slowly at first, illuminating the murky depths of desire like lanterns descending on water. The contact intensifying with each stroke of their tongues, the want and the willingness converged into a single blinding beam of need too reckless to be contained.

The hungry pressure of Therese’s lips on her neck was more than enough to overload Carol’s senses, to make her lose all coherence in her mad ascent. Her hands swam under Therese’s top crawling across her smooth skin, easing the fabric away little by little. Panting, she knew what waited at the end of the line but she was in no hurry to get there – or was she? The wetness already pooling out of her, weighing her formidably down, Carol longed to have it all right now, this very minute. She wanted to spin irrevocably out of control, to spiral towards the pleasure of Therese so much it made her swoon with far too eager anticipation. Gasping for air, Therese cupped her face and Carol saw the pupils of her green eyes once again hooded and hazy.

“I want… I want… all of it,” she murmured pulling Carol even closer, grinding the front of her shorts against her thigh. Her skin was heated, and in the next second almost too hot for Carol – Therese pulled her top off and revealed her beautiful breasts, the pale curves of her upper body to Carol in all their youthful glory. God, she will kill me, pulsated across Carol’s brain when she hurriedly unbuttoned her own shirt.

Then it happened, as it can many times happen when lust abandons reason altogether. It was an understandable accident that in any other circumstances wouldn’t have affected the end result of their intense foreplay at all. Losing her balance momentarily, Therese fell off the barstool hitting her injured knee on the hardwood floor. She cried out in agony, which not only terrified Carol but also woke up Rindy who wasted no time running downstairs. She had her baseball bat with her.

“What on earth is go…” she stopped in midsentence. “Umm… Mom, please put your shirt back on.” Rindy averted her eyes bashfully. Resembling the color of a cooked lobster, Carol turned her back on her daughter and covered herself. Still reeling with intense pain, Therese tried desperately to hide the fact that she was wearing only the skimpy micro shorts.

An embarrassed silence was broken by an amused young voice. “Is this because of the film we watched..?” Rindy asked cautiously. “NO!” Carol snapped back immediately. “So Mom, are you a… dyke?” To their big surprise, Therese started giggling uncontrollably despite the discomfort she was feeling. “I think it’s safe to say that she likes me.” Therese gazed at Carol lovingly. “And I like her, obviously.”          

Chapter Text

“Darling… I gotta go, I’m already late as it is,” Carol murmured breathing into Therese’s ear nibbling her earlobe. “Mmm… babe…” Therese closed her eyes, “just five more minutes…” She let her mouth travel on Carol’s jawline sucking it lightly along the way. “That’s what you…” Carol groaned, “…oh sweet Jesus…” She felt Therese’s hand force its way under her blouse and on top of her breast. “…said… half an… hour… ago.” Another flash of heat made her weak in her groin.

Therese pressed her against the wall supporting her own weight with the pair of crutches on her right hand side. Her lips were scanning Carol’s neck for an abandonment of reason, of sense of time running out on early Tuesday morning. “Therese…,” she started out but found herself breathless. “Babe… I want it so much,” Therese whispered hoarsely her hand getting bolder by each caress. “I want you so bad I can’t stand it…” Her words affected Carol like a laser beam of unadulterated lust too direct to resist. It cut her in half the rational mind hardly remembering itself at all while the intense build-up cleared room for its absolute, non-negotiable rule. It made her mouth water and her throat thicken so pleasurably she had to gasp for air several times.

Carol tried to speak but nothing came out. The whirring noise of want inside her head undid all intention to leave, every last shred of will power to exit the diorama of their starved bodies against the backdrop of what looked like a veritable Technicolor heat. She felt the rise in her, how everything about her all at once jutted out into her uncompromised touch. I want her to fuck me now. But once she heard her own thought diffuse throughout the conscious mind it alarmed her for she didn’t want it to happen this way.

Slowly, as if by learning to spell all over again, Carol mouthed the words she didn’t want to say. “Do we want it like this..?” She regretted it the moment she let it drop off her lips. It seemed to sober Therese up – at least her hands on Carol’s thighs lost their fervent movement for a second. “I’m dying here…” Therese whined in pain, “this… this… not being able to – it kills me.” She looked at Carol with wide, almost frightened eyes. “Don’t you want me?” The sudden insecurity of her yearning got Carol by surprise. Haven’t I shown her just how much?

“I want you with every fiber of my being, I ache for you...” Carol slid her palms inside the back of her pants to massage Therese’s bare buttocks. The mere contact sent the room spinning before her eyes. “Oh God, how I want it…” she continued hearing Therese moan under her touch. This had been going on for a couple of days now, partly because of Rindy interrupting them at every opportune hour, partly because of the pain Therese was still gripped with. It came and went compromising their tender, potentially heated moments together and even though Therese said everything was okay and Carol believed her, neither one of them wanted their first time to be over and done with in haste. 

To be so mind-blowingly turned on all the time was of course ludicrous, and it did wear them down. They’d tried sleeping together – just sleeping in the same bed – but found themselves talking about sex instead. “Okay, this is obviously not working…” Therese tried to laugh it off but after a while it became evident they couldn’t lie in such close proximity to one another without going mad with frustration.

The times Carol doubted her conviction of abstaining from sex during Therese’s convalescence were far too numerous but something in her was hell-bent not to give in. Besides they had both agreed on it.  It will be doubly special if we’ll wait, she had decided although it had sounded far too virginal for a woman of her age. Unless I’ll end up killing someone before it happens. “You’re right, you’re absolutely right,” Therese finally acquiesced to not sounding very convincing at all, “Me wanting to fuck you against the wall or on that really nice sofa over there before you leave for work is simply a bad idea…” Hearing her put it so bluntly, Carol stared at Therese her breathing becoming agitated once more. “Darling…” she said grabbing her hand and placing it back on her thigh. “No, babe,” Therese managed to exhale, “I’ll hobble over to the bathroom and take a COLD SHOWER and you… you go and be the marvelous chef I know you can be.” Her smile was deliciously devious.

This time Carol met her staff at the restaurant. Parking her Tesla, she’d somehow managed to calm down from the last minute excitement at home. Sighing, she walked across the street to see her chefs gawking at the handsome entrance of their future place of work. It looks gorgeous, Carol thought her smile broadening as she approached the emblem of her long awaited dream.

The tiny awning over the door gave the place away with the stylish yet unpretentious art nouveau letters printed on it – d’Air. Entering the building, a historic landmark in its own right, one was overwhelmed by the generous, gracious foyer. This is where the adventure begins, Carol acknowledged imagining guests stepping in, leaving their outer garments at the coat check, waiting to be seated in eager anticipation. Everyone should feel they’ve been expected once they enter the dining room, she mused contentedly. That we’ve looked forward to having them, that we are just as excited about them as they are about us.

“This is an unbelievably beautiful, elegant place,” Maddie sighed standing next to Carol. “Abby did a wonderful job looking after your wishes and needs, don’t you think?” Carol glanced at her quizzically but saw nothing questionable in her eyes. “I suppose she did,” she acknowledged. “Yes, she did a very good job.” Carol knew it to be true so why hide her pleasure in how everything was right now.

Maddie took a closer look at the dining hall broken into smaller, intimate spaces as a fitting contrast to the awe-inspiring foyer. “We’ll create a spell here,” she said nodding at her unspoken musings, “a spell so magnificent it will haunt our patrons for days after.” There was a genuine conviction in her voice which Carol appreciated. “Yes,” she said smiling, “they will be so pampered, and I’m quite convinced you are the right person to see to it.” Carol was more and more impressed with Maddie. “I can see it already – the people sitting at the tables, not even knowing what they desire until we tell them that.” Maddie’s voice was laced with reverence. “The waiters gliding across the parquet, appearing before the patrons with such grace and precision they won’t have time to fret over the next dish you have created for them.” She is one of a kind, Carol thought slightly taken aback by Maddie’s surprising eloquence. I hope Abby realizes what an asset, an absolute gem she’s found in her.          

Dannie was inspecting the bar, the easygoing, tavern-like side of d’Air. He looked like a kid in a candy store running his palm along the length of the sturdy bar counter. “You like it, Dannie?” For once Carol used his pet name not even noticing it. “Yeah, I love it,” he beamed, “I’m really excited how this area turned out. What a fabulous alternative to the refinement you guys are going to be serving up over there…” he motioned towards the dining room. “But the real party’s going to be happening right here,” he grinned at Carol. “No reservations, just walk-ins looking for a good time.” Carol laughed good-naturedly at his words. “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.” As long as everyone’s happy, she thought amused.

There was one person who wasn’t and her unhappiness became very tangible in the next moment. “Carol, can I have a word with you in the office?” Abby’s expression gave no indication of what she wanted to talk about. “What is it?” Carol asked nervously. Her stomach was in knots – lately it had been that way by the mere mention of Abby’s name.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking,” Abby commenced when they were finally alone. “You have? What about?” Carol asked making sure her voice didn’t register the sudden terror she was experiencing. “About the restaurant, the business… about us.” This doesn’t sound good. “If we’re going to make this work, we’ll have to work on our… relationship,” Abby blurted out. “We need to find the trust again if we’re going to do this.” What the hell is she talking about?  “I’m afraid I don’t follow, dear Abigail.” Abby looked at her sharply. “You know damn well what I’m talking about, don’t you dare give me that innocent shit!” Carol flinched at her harshness. “First of all I want us to spend a lot more time together than what we’ve done lately…” she continued in a slightly softer tone, “…to see if there’s anything we can salvage from this wreckage of ours.”

Quite by accident Carol noticed a light go off on her cell phone. It had been lodged inside her handbag. “Ehm… give me a second,” she needed to take the moment her phone was now kind enough to offer her.  Three missed calls and a text message – all from Therese. The bloody phone had been on mute.

Got a call from my mom. She’s in town. Heading back to my place. Thanks for everything. Talk to you later. T

What the fuck? She’s leaving – now?  “Carol, could you put the phone away and focus on this?” Abby sounded impatient. Turning around, Carol felt suddenly very angry. “Trust, you say?” she snapped at her viciously. “Maybe we could start with you not intercepting and deleting emails meant for me!” Flabbergasted, Abby took a step back. Her mouth flapping uselessly, she looked like a fish out of water. “How in hell are we going to trust each other when you do shit like that?” Carol ranted fearlessly. She was full of vitriol and now it was brimming over.

Having recovered from the unexpected blow, Abby came back with full force. “Oh really..? I’m doing shit to you ?” Her voice was icy to say the least. “I guess I should thank you for answering the million dollar question of whether you’re fucking your sweet little sous-chef or not!” Carol was certain they could be heard by every single person in the premises. “And how do you deduce that from what I just told you, huh?” Carol questioned daring to take a step closer. By now it was obvious a veritable shit storm was only a couple of seconds away. “Abby!!!” Both women turned to see Maddie standing by the door. The redhead looked calm even though she’d managed to raise her voice over their ridiculously loud argument. “Come here,” she said coolly yet her manner was so adamant neither Carol nor Abby dared to question her sudden authority.

“I can’t believe the two of you.” Reprimanding both, Maddie shook her head. “We’re here at this gorgeous new place for the first time ever and you two are already at each other’s throats.” Crossing her arms defiantly, Abby couldn’t wait to interrupt her. “You know noth…” Maddie raised her hand to shut her up. “I know enough. I’m not a fool – hell, anyone could see and hear  what’s going on in here.” She took a stern look at both Carol and Abby. “The only question here is what you mean to do about it…”

She focused her attention on her closest colleague. “Abby, my dear… friend, this is no good and you know it.” Moving onto Carol she took a deep breath. “You’re not exactly a secret either, chef Aird, but you need to chill.” Pouting her lips, Carol opted to say nothing. Who the fuck are you to give me orders, she fumed silently instead. “Okay, I’m taking her away now,” Maddie decided abruptly guiding Abby towards the door. “Will you excuse us, chef Aird – we’ll take the afternoon off, I think it’s for the best for everyone concerned.” It was hard to tell which one looked more stunned – Carol left behind like a scolded school girl or Abby dragged away without really resisting it at all.                 

What the hell just happened?  It took Carol a long time to recover from the ugly incident and its confusing outcome. One thing was certain, however, Carol guessed – she was going to lose her business partner, no doubt about it. Rindy had left for her father’s house the same morning, right before the passionate make-out session in the foyer. I’ll call and check up on her, it’s as good as an excuse as any, Carol thought dialing Harge’s number.

“Harge? It’s me,” Carol greeted, “everything okay with Rindy?” I shouldn’t be doing this. “I know, I know, I’m not really worried… you are a wonderful father… I really mean it,” she rambled on. “No, everything’s fine…” Carol was rapidly losing her nerve. “I just… I just… Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?” She listened to the voice on the other end reassuring her of her fortunate timing. “Harge… have you thought about the restaurant deal?” Carol knotted her brow waiting for his reply. Somehow she knew his answer would displease her whatever it was going to be. “Oh you have? How did..? Okay... Okay... Sounds good. Okay, talk to you later.”

Phone conversations with Harge had never been too wordy and this time was no exception. Not even when he clearly expressed his willingness to take her up on her offer. His people would call her later this week.

Returning home, Carol felt very lonely. There would be no voices in the dark to welcome her. Therese was gone.

A note was left on the kitchen counter:

Carol –

I’m sorry to disappear like this but in a way I guess it’s for the best. You have so much on your plate right now without me and my handicap adding to your burden.

Speaking of plates, check out the fridge.

x

Therese

 

Carol opened the refrigerator to find a covered plate filled with blueberries, raspberries and sliced strawberries arranged in a perfect heart shape.                     

Chapter Text

Only less than a month away from the opening, the staff had permanently moved their quarters to d’Air. A lot of new people were coming in each day – the newly hired stagers for kitchen, the waiters Abby and Maddie had recruited. The place was buzzing with fresh energy and excitement but Carol was looking forward to one thing only, to the return of Therese. She’s supposed to be back today, she mused nervously pacing around the spacious, streamlined kitchen where her immediate team was informing the newcomers of their various duties.

Everyone was eagerly waiting for the sous-chef to take her place at the top of their “food chain”, that was obvious to see. Therese had been away for two weeks and in view of the work still ahead of them, it was high time for her to come back. “Is she here yet?” Genevieve asked Jeanette while they were going over the checklist for the day. The question seemed to flutter constantly in the air tickling endlessly Carol’s eardrums every time someone happened to utter it out loud. No, she’s not here yet, she wanted to growl at each and everyone posing it for she would surely be the first one to know when Therese Belivet sat her foot inside d’Air for the very first time.

Carol had talked to Therese on the phone several times over the past week. Their conversations had been brief and rather formal due to Therese’s mother’s stubborn presence whenever they started their conversation. Therese had sounded depressed, somehow defeated by the situation she was facing at her own home but she hadn’t been able to tell Carol about it in any detail. “How’s everything at d’Air?” she had asked anxiously. “I’m dying to see the place.” Are you dying to see me? Carol wanted to know but she didn’t want to press the issue in a phone conversation.

“Oh, it’s splendid,” she had assured her, “only one thing is missing…” Therese had been quiet for a moment. “And what is it?” she’d finally inquired cautiously. You, my darling. “The sous-chef to reign supreme, of course,” Carol had laughed although her laughter had sounded a bit forced and sad. “So… the guys – they miss me?” Therese’s voice had been apprehensive yet hopeful. I miss you more than I can bear. “Everyone misses you,” Carol had said instead. You are the one who gives meaning to all of this. “After all, you have an important role in making d’Air the success it deserves to be.” Carol could’ve kicked herself after blurting out such a lifeless platitude.

“Hi guys!” Carol’s train of thought was interrupted by a familiar voice next to the doorway. Her heart beating fast, she turned around to see Therese greeting Dannie, Genevieve, Jeanette, Tommy and Phil, exchanging pleasantries and smiling widely to each and everyone. But when she looked at Carol her emerald gaze took upon radiance Carol had never seen before. Therese’s eyes drowned her in their greenness like two misty pools reflecting an enchanted forest of a familiar fairytale. Carol felt happy and inexplicably shy at the same time. She wanted to go to her but her feet refused to move as if afraid to break the spell so instantly created between the two of them.

“Hey Therese, we’re so glad to have you back!” Cutting their line of sight, Maddie hugged her enthusiastically. Reluctantly Therese turned her gaze away from Carol and returned the compliment. “It’s good to be back,” she said, “although I still have this nuisance with me…” A light, hollow knock just above her knee revealed she was still wearing the brace. “But you’ve gotten rid of the crutches, haven’t you?” Maddie marveled, “It’s better than nothing – don’t you think so, chef Aird?” Carol was startled by her abrupt question. Her cheeks getting warmer, she mumbled her reply. “Definitely… I’m very relieved to see you’re doing better, Therese.” I am overjoyed to see you.

“Now that almost everyone is finally here, it’s time we start,” Maddie stated clapping her hands together. Carol looked around to see who was missing. She didn’t see Abby anywhere. “I’m sure Miss Gerhard will join us – eventually,” Maddie continued noticing Carol’s apparent surprise. “But in the meantime, there’s no point in wasting a minute more… Chef Aird, I believe you have something to say to all of us this morning?”

Carol took her place in the middle of the room. She was overwhelmed by the many faces around her most of whom she had never seen before. “Dear friends, I believe you know me and I will eventually know each and every one of you.” Carol smiled warmly at her extended staff. “We are a family – a family that will welcome friends at its home, d’Air.” She paused for a moment to let it all sink in. My dream come true, right here, right now. “I am the captain of this vessel and sometimes, I suppose, even your mother,” she winked knowingly at everyone present, “and I am very happy to introduce you the one other person you will most definitely come in contact with – my sous-chef, my partner… in great cooking, Therese Belivet.”

Therese made her way across the floor right next to her. She nodded to the staff before turning her attention back to Carol. “Therese and I will now talk a little bit about just that… great cooking, I mean.” She looked at Therese who seemed to catch on immediately. “Exactly, thank you, chef Aird… before we resume our duties, it’s only appropriate to address what great cooking truly constitutes of.” She glanced at Carol mischievously. “It’s not only maximizing flavor but also achieving pleasure by tapping everything about us – our body, heart, mind and spirit.” The words flowed easily out of Therese as if she’d been preparing for this moment for days.

“Both a great cook and his staff need not only a superb palate but also sound judgment,” Carol pointed out. “To fully comprehend our ingredients is not enough, we must also know when is the right time to serve them, as well as why and how to do it,” she added. Therese was eager to jump in. “Great cooking happens when all these elements come together – the perfect ingredients embracing the exact right moment.” She cast a meaningful glance at Carol who managed to keep her cool. “Yes… it is a celebration of successful timing, really,” Carol stressed drawing a deep breath as she spoke. “So much can be said about know-how but we will need true heart, enthusiasm and love… of food to bring it all to life,” she explained now slightly flustered. “I bet neither one of us is here to repeat the same recipes again and again?” Carol asked Therese who was clearly surprised to hear her question. “Is there anything as dull as a blind adherence to some rules someone else has set out for you?” Therese replied articulating her point heavily. “After all you don’t wish anything to hold you back from really achieving the level of greatness you’re capable of.” Carol stared at her for a second.

“Oo…kay,” Maddie cut in, “I’m sure we all got little something out of this delicious interplay between our two magnificent culinary minds.” She was suddenly quite amused which irritated Carol a great deal. “Jeanette, Genevieve, boys – gather your troops so we can begin,” Maddie instructed, “Chef Aird and sous-chef Belivet will be overseeing the work done in each group.”   

“Quite enjoyed your bit on the language of… food there,” Maddie told both Carol and Therese while the rest of the staff was busy organizing their workstations. “You forgot one thing, though,” she smiled at them. “What do you mean?” Therese wanted to know. “That it’s all about pairings, isn’t it?” Maddie’s sphinx-like face gave away nothing. “What goes best with what – and so on…” Just when Carol thought Maddie had gone too far, she turned around and left to take care of the legion of waiters flocking around the bar.

“How’ve you been?” Carol asked Therese soon after. She wanted so much to touch her, just a little – to take her hand for a fleeting moment, to brush a strand of brown hair away from her forehead – but her wish to do so never amounted to anything. “I’ve been better”, Therese admitted looking intently at her. “My mother’s been here all this time, and I’ve absolutely hated every minute of it.” Carol thought of her own mother and winced at the memory. The way she had visited her home while she’d still been married to Harge… how she had waltzed in and expected to be made the center of everyone’s attention even at the expense of Rindy who had been just a toddler at the time. Surely it couldn’t be as unbearable for Therese to have her mother staying with her? she mused.

“Well, it was very kind of her to come and take care of you, wasn’t it?” Carol asked cautiously. “She didn’t come because of me, oh no, my accident was only a convenient excuse for her to crash at my apartment during one of her shopping sprees and theatre dates.” Therese sounded very bitter. “So I ended up spending most of the time by myself, which was quite okay,” she added, “It’s not like she’s ever been interested in me in the first place so why start now.”

Hearing her sad story, Carol felt sick to her stomach. “You should’ve called me instead of being there all alone…” Therese’s features softened. “I didn’t want to burden you with my feeling sorry for myself. And I was okay, I was fine, really.” But I wasn’t. Carol cleared her lumpy throat. “I missed you…” Fearing Therese’s reaction, she turned her gaze away. “Carol…” Therese started.

“Chef Aird? Sous-chef Belivet? Can you come over here?” Seeing Carol hurry along, Therese let out a sigh and followed in her steps. Phil was waiting for them. “I’m doing the fish main here, and I’d like to have your opinion, chef,” he requested. “Therese… umm… sous-chef Belivet,” he grinned, “will you go and talk to Jeanette and her team about the pasta dishes for the bar menu?” Carol stayed with Phil while Therese headed towards Jeanette’s station.

“What have you got here?” Carol asked her eyes still registering Therese’s movements. “A roasted salmon with warm, slightly charred vegetables – bok choy, peas, cucumbers…” Carol tasted a forkful of Phil’s creation. “I like that you’ve added some roe as well – the briny flavor balances the sweetness of the fish…” she approved. “What’s exactly in the sauce? Hickory, right?” Phil nodded. “Yeah, hickory, juniper berries and peppercorns – they’re the seasoning for the broth…” Carol dipped a spoon into it once more. “I’d reduce it to intensify the smokiness even further,” Carol commented hearing her cell phone beep inside her jacket pocket, “and make sure to foam it with some half-and-half,” she concluded taking a peek at the screen of her phone.

I MISSED YOU TOO

Carol looked around unaware of the goofy smile lighting up her fair face. Therese was leaning over a table with Jeanette’s group on the other side of the kitchen.

I WANTED YOU TO BE WITH ME

Carol sent her reply before she had time to think it through. Besides Tommy was already eagerly waiting for her attention. “Have some of this, chef,” he offered pointing at the plate in front of her. A juicy beef filet dressed with a heavy looking sauce wasn’t exactly what Carol had expected but she decided to approach it with an open mind. “Goodness… this is some piece of meat,” she nearly exclaimed. Tommy was grinning from one ear to another. “It’s been poached in a liquid made of reduced Cabernet, pepper, star anise, fennel, etc.” He was very proud of his invention.

“It must be the tannin that enhances the meatiness?” Carol wondered. “And although the blue cheese sauce may at first sound like an over-the-top idea, it actually compliments the filet splendidly.” Another beep sounded off. “Adore the truffles, Tommy, and the subtlety of the Dijon mustard – such gorgeous layers of flavor!” She was genuinely impressed as well as impatient to read her message.

I’VE WANTED YOU EVERY DAY

“Bad news, chef Aird?” Tommy stared at Carol who needed a moment before answering. “Oh, no… everything is… eh… fabulous…” Tommy looked even more worried now. “I mean your dish – I presume it’s for the bar menu, right? – it’s fabulous, gorgeous, unforgettable really.” She retreated hastily trying desperately to figure out where she was supposed to go next.

“Over here, chef Aird!” Right, next stop Genevieve. Therese was obviously having an exceptionally tough time with the pasta people for she had hardly moved at all. Knowing she’d have to keep her focus on work at hand, Carol typed a quick answer.

LESS TALK, MORE ACTION

“This is for the tasting menu,” Genevieve presented rather proudly. Her creation looked tantalizing indeed, and if the taste was anything like the appearance, she had every reason to look smug, Carol thought. The first mouthful was already mesmerizing. The chilled rhubarb soup surrounded the creamy rose parfait as a perfect, tangy counterpoint to the delicately luscious island in the middle. “Congratulations, Genevieve,” Carol beamed at her, “even the textures are spot-on – the candied pistachios and fresh strawberries compliment the overall smoothness…” She savored another bite. “And the changes in temperature, I adore the strawberry sorbet topping it all off, brilliant – brava!” Beep beep.

WHERE’S THE FREEZER?

Carol grinned at the message knowing fully well Genevieve was still standing beside her. “Have you already talked to Dannie about your dessert?” she asked attempting to sound serious. “No, not yet,” Genevieve shook her head. “Dannie!” Carol hollered joyfully. “Make sure you’ll find an appropriate wine pairing for Genevieve’s amazing tour de force – maybe a Gewürztraminer or some nice Vendange Tardive?” Dannie was only too happy to oblige especially now when it meant getting to sample the glorious delicacy right away.

AFRAID YOU’LL OVERHEAT?

Slowly she moseyed over to the pasta table just in time to see Therese read the message she’d sent her. “You okay, darling?” Carol asked her quietly making sure others couldn’t hear what she was saying. She landed her hand on Therese’s waist. Sous-chef Belivet gave her a deliciously lopsided smile. “I’m fine, chef Aird… just a little – hot.”

Chapter Text

“Oh I’m so glad you could make it…” Carol breathed a sigh of relief as Therese stepped in thirty minutes after she herself had arrived at d’Air. It was Saturday and normally their day off but Carol had asked her to put in an extra day’s work anyway. “Of course,” Therese beamed at her, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” She hung her jacket next to Carol’s and came very close to her. “I know we have a long day ahead but I’d like to begin it with a kiss…” Her hands circled Carol’s waist as she pressed her lips on her mouth. The kiss was hungry, demanding and more than enough to take Carol’s mind off of all things related to cooking.  

They stood in the middle of the kitchen in deep embrace savoring each other’s tastes greedily. “So, how shall we begin?” Therese murmured against Carol’s heightened breathing. “We are here for the tasting…. menu, right?” Carol’s hands slid down Therese’s sides making her gasp delightedly. “Yes… we’ll do it properly today – all day long, and I’m quite certain we’ll be exhausted before we’re finished.” Her hands squeezed Therese’s butt bringing about another rapturous moan. She took a step back to see Therese’s chest heaving rapidly. “Put on your chef coat, baby – we’ve got work to do,” Carol quipped winking her eye wickedly. Smiling and catching her breath, Therese shook her head slowly. “Chef Aird, the thing you just did… you’ll live to regret it,” she said feigning displeasure.

Carol felt happy and madly reinvigorated by their quickened desire. Her eyes followed Therese as she changed into her kitchen gear casting playfully disapproving glances at Carol. “You’re a piece of work, aren’t you?” she chided her. “Oh, you have no idea…” Carol laughed avoiding her touch for now. “Uh uh”, she tutted Therese, “first work, then… what was it again? More work…” Pretending to give up, Therese shrugged her shoulders. “Alright, fine… what’s first?”

“I did promise you a dinner, if I recall correctly?” Carol said quirking her eyebrows. “Well – would this do – a seven-course-tasting menu for vegetarians?” Therese folded her arms. “You’re referring to the invitation you so gracefully presented… when was it again? It had something to do with the incident regarding the freezer?” she replied as if she had forgotten it completely. Now it was Carol’s turn to look displeased. “If it’s irrelevant for you, hey – it’s just another day at the office then, I suppose.” Therese burst into an easy smile. “Babe… this won’t do at all”, she scolded Carol in a voice that oozed honey, “I don’t mind sampling your – ahem, make it our delicacies today, but I expect to be served the full meal in the privacy of your home, my dear chef, not under these glaring fluorescent lights.” Carol grinned at her reply. “But I like to have lights on, darling, haven’t I told you that?” Therese lost her composure for a quick second. “Gotcha – lights on…” she was too flustered to think of anything else to say.               

“First we’ll make a Margarita to kick start the salivating,” Carol explained moving closer to the counter. “I’ve prepped part of the components for each dish already, so that we can deliver the final results right here and now.” Carol pointed at a frozen mixture waiting on the table. “This frappé is made out of tequila, Cointreau, sugar syrup, water and lemon juice. I’ve frozen it first and then crushed it.” Therese peeked at it curiously. “What are these?” she asked. “Those are ice moulds for serving,” Carol clarified, “let’s fill two of them.” She put some of the frappé inside the ready moulds. “Is this salt air here?” Therese smiled enthusiastically. “Yes, darling, made with water, salt and Lecite and emulsified into sheer airiness. I think it’s stabilized enough for us to use,” Carol commented adding two spoonfuls of it over each serving. “Here, take a spoon and have a taste…” she continued grating a little pink salt over the Margaritas. “Cin cin”, Carol grinned toasting her mould to Therese who was busy tasting both the frappé and the salty air at the same mouthful.

“Woah… what a way to start a day,” Therese exclaimed licking her lips. “Are you trying to get me drunk..? Please, tell me you are!” she chuckled excitedly. “Do I need to get you inebriated to make you do things here in the kitchen, darling?” Carol asked innocently. “Although I do recall you being very forward when tipsy…” Therese let out a laugh. “I did tell you what kind of an effect wine has on me. Booze on the other hand renders me totally out of control, if you must know.”

Carol tried to remain professional but failed miserably. “In that case I think it’s better you stick to water for now”, she said attempting to take the aperitif out of Therese’s hand. “No way!” she giggled extending her drink way out of Carol’s reach. “Go ahead and try to take it from me… I’d love for you to force it out of my fingers.” They came very close to one another. “Okay… have it your way,” Carol murmured breathlessly. “Babe, if I’d have it my way we wouldn’t be standing here.” Bloody hell, she’s really good at this.

“Next up – green olives,” Carol exhaled trying to calm her beating heart. “That sounds – well, somewhat simplified..?” Therese wondered. “One might think so at first,” Carol nodded, “but I’m sure you’ll love what I’ve come up with.” She took a glass jar containing some lemon and orange zest, thyme, rosemary and black peppercorns. “This is deconstruction basically,” she started, “I’ve pitted the olives and blended them into a purée. Then I’ve strained the stuff and kept the juice.”

Therese’s interest was piqued to say the least. “The juice has been hydrated well with Calcic, a calcium salt that has an incredible moisture absorbing capability.” Carol was interrupted almost immediately. “I think I could definitely use some of that stuff right about now,” Therese quipped wiggling her eyebrows. Trying desperately to ignore her brazen innuendo, Carol went on. “Then I’ve added Xantana powder to thicken the solution – right before mixing it properly and letting it cool off for 24 hours.”

Therese looked pensive. “But that’s not all there is to it… it can’t produce the olive-like shapes on its own, right?” she questioned. “That’s right. Before I left yesterday, I dropped balls of olive mixture into an Algin solution…” Therese was positively puzzled. “Algin is a natural product derived from marine brown algae, and it works wonders in just a couple of minutes when in contact with Calcic.” Amazed, her sous-chef scratched her head. “So that’s what makes them spherical? Incredible!” She was very impressed. “And they’ve been kept in some aromatized oil since last night?” Carol nodded. “Yes, garlic and other spices you see in the jar in olive oil – extra virgin, of course.” Therese grinned at her deviously. “I see you haven’t forgotten our delightful banter over the avocado pasta…” Feigning sudden hopelessness, Carol rolled her eyes.        

Carol put the “olives” into the glass jar and covered them with the spiced oil. Therese spooned one out and popped it into her mouth. “Want one as well?” she asked Carol still chewing hers blissfully. “Open your mouth…” Therese urged bringing her spoon next to Carol’s rouged lips. She drew an oily streak across their tender surface. “Therese…” Carol started just before Therese's lips kissed the aromatic oil away. “Where’s my olive..?” she whispered laboriously only to see it reappear between Therese’s teeth. She leaned in to push it gently into Carol’s mouth. The bitter and salty, yet glorified taste of the fake olive mingled with the aroma of Therese on Carol’s tongue.

The wetness of her kiss was laced with the oily marinade bursting of rich herbal accents, igniting heat all over Carol’s nerve ends. I want to give in, hammered inside her head while Therese served her yet another green sphere in her delectable fashion. “Therese, after we’re done… could we – go to your place?” Her eyes were pleading. “My mother’s there,” Therese replied gloomily. “How about your place?” She tried hopefully. “Rindy’s got friends over… a slumber party,” Carol explained dryly. “Oh…”

With an enormous effort Carol pulled herself together to show Therese the next item on the vegetarian menu. It’s not like we’re never going to do it, is it? she admonished herself. I’m just being impatient. “Okay, we’ve done the aperitif, so to speak, the first starter and now it’s time for the second one,” Carol drew a deep breath. “The Pine.” Therese couldn’t help but smile widely. “Pine as in pining after someone?” Her voice was so tender it melted Carol irresistibly.

“I certainly hope I won’t have to pine after you, darling – after all this excruciating waiting…” Therese seemed to draw strength from her sudden desperation. “I’m giving you a hard time, aren’t I?” she asked sheepishly. “I’m making this very difficult for you.” Carol was taken aback by her words. “God no! I want you to make this hard and difficult for me, as hard and difficult as you possibly can.” Therese was surprised to hear her outburst. “However, there are things we need to discuss… things you must know to understand everything that’s going on at the moment.” However, Carol wasn’t sure if this was the right time and place for it.     

“What things?” Therese asked nervously. “Can we do the pine dish first? Please…” Carol begged not knowing how Therese would react to everything she had to get off her chest. She could tell Therese wasn’t happy to wait but she nodded her approval anyway. “This is a meditation around a theme, around the pine,” Carol began attempting to sound relaxed. “First, a half a dessert spoon of pine nut sorbet…” she scooped it in the middle of a soup plate. “Now, your turn, go ahead and cover it with this,” she handed Therese a sealed bag of powder that felt cold to touch. “What is it?” Therese inquired somewhat halfheartedly. “It’s frozen powder made out of pine cones.” Getting upset over the apparent tension, Carol put her hands on her hips. “I made an infusion out of the cones with ascorbic acid, froze it and processed it in the Pacojet to get the snow-like texture.” She was unhappy to miss the opportunity to be truly excited about her invention.

Therese wasn’t quite so predictable, though. “Wow, pine cone snow? On top of it?” Carol nodded wiping away a strand of hair from her forehead. “Here,” she said offering Therese a bunch of greens. “Put a tree in there.” She didn’t notice how amused Therese was by her sudden request. Without any further advice Therese took different shades of shiso shoots and some basil stems and gathered them into an adorable little bouquet. She pushed the greens gently in the middle of the powder-covered sorbet base. “Like this?” Again, Carol just nodded.

They completed the dish in silence both of them instinctively knowing what the other one needed to make it look right. One gram of ground coffee for the thawing earth, a plain caramel sheet to indicate receding ice, small rocks made out of pine meringue, boulders formed of wild pine nuts and savory pine nut praline – all of them found their perfect places on the plate. “It’s lovely, Carol,” Therese complimented, “I can’t wait to taste it – but I can wait a while to hear whatever it is you have to tell me.” She took Carol’s hand and pulled her close. “I am not some dish that’s going to collapse in a heartbeat if not served immediately, do you understand?” Therese cupped Carol’s face and saw her tearing up. “What is it, babe…”      

Therese sat down next to the counter and pulled Carol into her lap. “This is out of this world, chef Aird,” she said softly enjoying her first bite, “but I feel it should be called Spring instead of Pine, don’t you think?” The loveliness of her words surged through Carol like medicine taking effect, spreading confidence into every nook and cranny of her distressed mind. She ran her fingers through Therese’s hair drinking her in, wondering what in the world she had done to deserve her in the first place. I am in love with you, Carol knew not balking at the unexpected thought at all. The realization enveloped her in its serene, unassuming splendor stripping her off of all worries, all concerns she had gotten so used to. To be so perfectly present, so brilliantly there, opened her up in ways she had never thought possible and she wondered if Therese could see it all in her eyes. “We’ll do the main course and then we’ll talk, okay?” Carol whispered placing a kiss on her temple. Sighing contentedly, Therese nuzzled against her shoulder.

“We’re doing my suggestion then…” Therese acknowledged enthusiastically. She had poached and hollowed-out hearts of palm to make them resemble a marrowbone. The hearts had been braised in a liquid consisting of a variety of vegetables, Gewürztraminer and Chardonnay vinegar a leek-wrapped bouquet garni completing the flavor. Filling a section of a heart with a savory egg custard had given it just the exact consistency she’d been looking for. “I spiced the custard with my special Marmite broth since I happen to know you have this weird, inexplicable affinity to all things Australian,” Therese chuckled.

“There’s some horse radish in it as well?” Carol was pleased to find. “I love the slight yeastiness and the overall umami feel to it,” she continued digging in her portion once more. There was playfulness in the dish that appealed to Carol enormously – the mock-meat display of the vegetarian main was delightfully deceptive and a beautiful sight to behold. The stubborn heart of palm sprouting out of the robust red wine pool was nothing short of stunning no matter how one approached it.       

“I’ve asked my ex-husband to be a partner in the restaurant,” Carol started with difficulty. Therese was immediately startled. “I’m going to need his money to open d’Air.” She looked at Therese who obviously couldn’t understand a word she was saying. “Why? Isn’t Abby your partner?” she asked apprehensively. “Furthermore, isn’t it a bad idea?” Carol had told Therese about Harge when she’d stayed at her house. “I’m afraid Abby won’t be with us for much longer…” she continued her voice trailing off. “What are you saying?” Therese looked dumbfounded. “She’s been just as invested in d’Air as we all have been… hasn’t she?”

Carol put her fork down. “It has to do with my relationship with Abby.” She cleared her throat. Therese was eagerly waiting for her to elaborate. “She’s very perceptive, and she has noticed this thing… of ours developing and…” How should I say this?  “And what?” Therese asked sharply. “Well, she doesn’t approve of it.” Afraid to look at her, Carol heard Therese draw breath. “Why the hell not?” she demanded to know, “And more importantly, why should our relationship affect her business deal with you in any  way?” This was the moment Carol had dreaded. Now that it was finally at hand she found it even more difficult than she’d assumed.  

She met Therese’s puzzled eyes. “Because she’s in love with me.” Flabbergasted, Therese stared at her. “Are you… in love with her?” she managed to say after a moment’s silence. “Of course not!” Carol blurted out. “Would I be here with you – doing what we do – if I were in love with her !?” It came out a bit too forcefully, she thought immediately. “But you have been, haven’t you?” Therese mumbled her eyes wide with anxiety. “That was years and years ago, darling,” Carol hastened to explain, “It was a passing romance that meant more to her than it ever meant for me.” Carol stopped for a second. “But we’ve been friends all our lives, that’s what’s been important to me.”

Looking down, Therese knotted her brow bothered by some missing piece of information she was trying to figure out of all that Carol had just told her. “If it was years and years ago, and you started this business as friends, why is she acting up like a jealous lover now?” Will the truth really set me free?  “Because I made the mistake of sleeping with her eight months ago.” Therese raised her head in disbelief. “Quite a piece of information you chose to save for last, huh?” She sounded utterly disappointed.

“C’mon, Therese, it has nothing to do with us, NOTHING,” Carol stressed quite vocally. “Haven’t you ever made mistakes? Well, I did and I’m not proud of it…” she was worried and irritated at the same time. “GOD, I screwed up, I know!!! But believe me, I’ve punished myself for it plenty – I’ve kept away from you because she told me to, I’ve put up with her deleting your email and giving me all kinds of shit all this fucking time…” Carol ranted angrily.

“WHAT!?” Therese exclaimed furiously, “She did WHAT!?” Fuck, now I screwed up again… “Therese, please, calm down…” But Therese had already stood up and was on her way out of the door.             

Chapter Text

Shaken by what had just happened, Carol tried desperately to think what to do next. Therese had stormed out of the restaurant so upset it had frozen Carol in her seat for quite a while. Now that she was coming back to her senses, she picked up her jacket and wasted no time running after her. When she finally made it out on the street, Therese was nowhere in sight.

She must have caught a cab the second she stepped out, Carol realized. But she doesn’t know where Abby lives, she consoled herself momentarily – or does she? Didn’t Genevieve mention just the other week that she and Therese had taken a case of wine over to Abby’s?  Panic stricken, Carol ran all the way to her Tesla parked across the street.

Abby lived in a beautifully detailed brick-above-granite townhouse at the historic Upper West Side. When Carol finally arrived at the West 71^st Street she saw Therese already standing in front of the building. She was yelling her guts out. “Abigail Gerhard!!! Open the fucking door and let me in!!!” She was causing a terrible scene in the otherwise languid neighborhood.

Carol parked her car and approached her carefully. “Therese…” she started but her infuriated sous-chef paid no attention to her. “ABBY!!! THE DOOR, NOW!!!” There was a sudden movement in the window. “What the hell is your problem, Belivet?” Abby’s head poked through the undulating curtains. “Keep it down or I’ll call the police to do it for me…” Therese was shaking with anger. “I don’t give a shit who you’re going to call – let me in NOW!” she shouted leaving no room for negotiation. “Jesus…” Abby hissed motioning both Therese and Carol to move towards the front door. It was buzzed open instantly.

“What the fuck’s gone into you, Belivet!?” Abby questioned angrily making no attempt of letting them any further than the foyer. She was wearing a mere robe, which Carol found quite odd since it was already 4 P.M. “Are you with her on this nonsense, Carol?” Abby turned her aggravated attention to her friend who thought it best to leave the question unanswered. “I suggest you take your mad friend out of here right now… before I’ll make sure there will be consequences this little nincompoop will regret come tomorrow…” Abby’s icy words were directed at Carol who remained stubbornly silent.

“Cut the crap, Gerhard!” Therese intervened spitting venom out of her mouth. “Your holier-than-thou attitude doesn’t fly with me anymore,” she declared vocally. What the fuck is she talking about? Carol was flabbergasted to hear Therese so outraged. “You have some nerve interfering with us after all the shit you’ve been up to…” Abby looked nervous. “Please, keep it down, will you… there’s no need for the entire neighborhood to…” Therese stopped her with an angry glance. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do and how to behave after your despicable stunt to keep us apart,” she went on, “deleting my email – really, Abby? What a class act you are… I wonder what Gen would think of all this.”

Gen..? Genevieve? Carol had no idea what Therese was talking about. What does she have to do with anything? Abby kept looking around restlessly. “Okay, okay…” she started. “NO, IT’S BLOODY HELL NOT OKAY,” Therese interjected, “You owe Carol an apology for all the emotional blackmail you’ve put her through… no wonder I haven’t gotten laid yet!” Noticing Abby’s uncomfortable stare, Carol blushed up to her ears. “Wait… so you two haven’t…” Abby began her eyes darting from Carol to Therese and back. “NO WE HAVE NOT,” Therese shut her up once and for all, “but YOU HAVE, haven’t you?”

Would someone please fill me in as what’s going on in here? Carol mused desperately. “You’ve been busy fucking Genevieve, my best friend, who has been eagerly waiting for you to call her back after last Wednesday but I assume you’ve been way too wrapped up in your deranged plan to keep us from doing the same, haven’t you???” Carol stared at Abby shocked, not believing what she’d just heard. Abby’s demeanor was however very revealing. “Okay, okay… I will call her… soon, please keep it down, I’m sure no one else apart from us is interested in hearing all the details of it…” Abby murmured trying to calm Therese down.

“I certainly am.” A fourth person, wearing a robe not unlike Abby’s, had appeared in the background. Maddie French. “Do tell, Therese, I must say I find this topic endlessly fascinating… when did you say this thing with Genevieve happened?” Her fiery eyes were fixed on Abby. Ouch, thought Carol still trying to wrap her head around the new information sprouting out of the volatile set-up. Therese seemed to be thrown off balance for a moment. She was gaping at Maddie not at all sure what to say.

“Ahem… Wednesday… maybe..?” she mumbled uncertainly staring at Abby who looked as if she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. “I see,” Maddie replied coldly. “And when was it again, dear Abigail, that we met for real for the first time…?” The question remained unanswered and the longer it kept hanging in the air, the more accusing it became.

Carol glanced at Therese to see if she was thinking the same. She was. “I think it’s for the best if we leave you two alone…” she suggested cautiously. “No, I want you to stay,” Maddie insisted stubbornly, “I bet there’s a lot more to learn of Miss Gerhard’s past dalliances with the kitchen staff.” I am running a goddamn lesbian restaurant, occurred to Carol suddenly. The news of Abby’s unfair treatment of her had yet to fully sink in but the uneasiness was already there as far too palpable a fact for her to handle.

“Carol…” Abby started noticing the pained look in her eyes. “Enough,” Therese interrupted, “we’re leaving now.” She focused her attention on Abby one more time. “I trust there won’t be any more trouble from your side?” It wasn’t really a question, Carol realized drawing a quick breath. Suddenly she was in awe of Therese, of her brave, stand-up conduct. God, she’s amazing. And hot. Averting her eyes, Abby remained silent but the way she had looked at Carol a moment ago had been docile, even malleable.       

“Now that was awkward…” Carol said when they were safely outside standing by the car. Saying nothing, Therese opened the side door and got in. She stared morosely through the windshield holding her bag on her lap. “Where to?” Carol asked quietly, almost apologetically. “We still have work to do, right?” Therese’s voice was strained. “Let’s finish what we set out to do,” she continued impatiently, “so we won’t have to fret over any more unfinished business.” She’s mad at me, Carol noted, she’s angry and disappointed and I don’t blame her one bit.

“Please forgive me”, she tried helplessly. “What is it that you’re apologizing for?” Therese snapped at her. “You could’ve told me ages ago instead of letting me think I’d been a total fool…” The knuckles of her hands clinging to the bag were turning white. “You were never a fool! I just… I just didn’t know how to come clean about this, how to explain the warped dynamic between me and Abby – not until I realized…” The words got stuck in her throat. “Realized what?” That I love you. Carol wanted to tell her how she felt but the expression on Therese’s face frightened her. She looked so hurt and disgusted it shut Carol right up. “Not until I realized I should have been honest with you from the very beginning,” she said instead. “You damn well should have,” Therese muttered grumpily.

“Everything’s in jeopardy but we, your staff, just happily toil away at the kitchen with no clue whatsoever about the lurking chance that d’Air might not open at all!” she complained bitterly. “I’m not going to let that happen! I have the funding – I’m going to meet up with Harge’s lawyers tomorrow and finalize the deal to make sure you – and the staff – will have the jobs you signed up for.” Therese stared at her unflinchingly. “You will do no such thing,” she warned, “you will keep your ex-husband far away from d’Air or I will walk out myself.” The seriousness of her threat had a petrifying effect on Carol. “Should it mean anything to you at all…” Therese grumbled more to herself than to Carol. “How can you even think so?” Carol exclaimed, “I look forward to every new day because of you…” But Therese wasn’t listening to her at the moment. She seemed preoccupied by her own sullen musings her mind wandering far out of Carol’s reach.

Back at d’Air they picked up what they’d started but suddenly everything was changed, painfully different from the sexy and gentle vibe they’d enjoyed in the morning. The margarita moulds had melted into two separate pools of chilled water, and the greens Therese had so artfully placed on Spring lay on the plate like felled trees waiting to be hauled off. For Carol the sorry remnants of the dish looked suddenly like Pine again.

Carol pulled out the ready, fermented brioche dough balls out of the refrigerator and let them rest on the counter. Therese mixed milk with drops of rose essence and Lecite, all of which she emulsified into a voluptuous rose air. Neither one uttered a word while steaming the brioches. Therese seemed to avoid Carol’s gaze deliberately as she finished the appetizing morsels with fresh, crumbled buffalo mozzarella and a spoonful of rose air. Carol tasted hers and found it lacking the one thing – the sixth sense of culinary wonder – that would’ve made it perfect and irresistible. Therese however nodded her approval. “I think it’s a keeper. It’s a nice touch, a fitting interlude.”  

Is this an interlude or an unexpected coda leading everything to an abrupt end? Carol fretted helplessly. The symphony she had hoped for was muddling into indistinct sounds, into a terrifying cacophony of hopelessness. “Let’s do the galette,” Therese said, “I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck here any longer than necessary.” Carol cringed at her indifferent remark but said nothing. It’s she who doesn’t want to be here.

The galette of rhubarb was the real pièce de résistance of the vegetarian tasting menu. Elaborate in every possible sense, it included rhubarb in its various forms – poached, dried and reinvented as a delightfully smooth sorbet. Carol set a moulded piece of poached rhubarb on top of an olive oil biscuit following it up with some yoghurt mousse. Therese placed a paper-thin, caramelized arlette to cover the mousse. “Is it missing something?” Therese asked taking a step back. “Yes… some coconut gel as well as candied coconut and rhubarb chips,” Carol replied finishing the dessert accordingly. “It’s gorgeous,” Therese admired but her compliment couldn’t soothe Carol’s anguished mind. It probably tastes sour anyway, she thought thoroughly depressed. It didn’t.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to head home now…” Therese was unbuttoning her chef coat. “My mom’s expecting me to… well, I should probably cook something for her tonight because she’s leaving early tomorrow morning.” She tried to catch Carol’s gaze but to no avail. Carol kept her eyes strictly on the floor afraid she would break altogether if she were to look at Therese. “Okay.” It was all she could muster up. “Bye.”

This is not who I am. The words came to Carol out of nowhere or at least it felt like it. I am not one to sit here all by myself crying into my galette. Therese had taken off awkwardly, and everything had been left unresolved in every possible way. Tears might have choked her throat earlier, rendered her helpless but right now, all on her own, she recognized a surprising sense of determination building up and taking over. This is so not over yet.

There was still a dish to be made, Carol remembered. Maybe she’d just forgotten about it or maybe it had slipped her mind deliberately, she didn’t know for sure. The subconscious is an awesome force to be reckoned with, Carol smiled knowingly. She set out to work on the last item – not a dish really but a heavenly extravagance, something to take one’s breath away once and for all.

Several hours later Carol parked her car next to the building Therese lived in. With great care she picked up the gift propped up on the passenger’s seat and walked over to the front door. After a short wait, the door was opened and Carol took the elevator to the fifth floor. When she got out of it, Therese was already standing in the doorway. “Carol…” she started confused. “Hear me out, please,” Carol interrupted tenderly. “I’m not coming in, obviously, I just wanted to bring you something I thought you might enjoy…” She handed over the elaborate, elongated wrapping. “I’d like you to open it now… here, I mean.”

Looking curiously at Carol, Therese removed the wrappings carefully. Seeing what was inside made her gasp out of wonder and delight. A multi-branched silver frame was bristling with bright red petals. “It’s an edible rose bush,” Carol explained smiling tenderly. “You can eat the petals… I’ve spiced them with dried raspberry and apple granules as well as toasted coriander seeds… The rose oil fragrance comes from the mixture I used to attach the sprinkles with,” she described knowing how much Therese loved culinary details. “Oh my god, this is… I’ve never seen anything like it,” Therese stammered. Carol was ecstatic to see her so enchanted, and it built up her confidence even more. I know who I am and what I want.

“Therese, before I go there’s one thing I want to tell you,” she began self-assuredly. “What is it?” Therese asked gazing apprehensively at Carol’s intense, gray eyes.

“I love you.”

Chapter Text

All Champagne is sparkling wine, but not all sparkling wine is Champagne.

“Hey…” Abby opened the door to let Carol in. She looked exhausted wearing the same robe as yesterday. They walked over to the kitchen and sat across each other at the spacious island dominating the cooking area. “You wanted to see me?” Abby mumbled too embarrassed to meet Carol’s scrutinizing eyes. “Can I have a cup of coffee? I ran out.” Abby glanced at her nonplussed. “Sure… I have some already made.” The espresso she poured into a tiny cup had slightly cooled down but Carol didn’t mind it at all.

“I’ve been thinking…” Carol started, “I didn’t really sleep a lot last night and by the look on your face, neither did you.” Abby kept turning the cup on its saucer. “No, I didn’t…” she admitted. “Carol… there’s so much I…” Carol raised her hand to stop her. “Now, Abigail, how long have we known each other? Over thirty years?” She locked eyes with her oldest friend who suddenly seemed confused. “I know you better than anyone. You’re not like this.” She pressed her palm gently on top of her hand. Feeling her soothing touch, Abby drew a long, pained breath.

“Carol, I’m…” Again Carol interrupted her. “Let me finish,” she continued, “I know you to be a decent, loving human being who bears no ill will toward anyone.” Abby’s eyes were suddenly filled with tears. “We all make mistakes, darling, even you.” Carol got up and walked over to her. “Now we’ll put an end to this misery, okay?” Looking very closely at Abby, she took her hand and squeezed it warmly. “I’d say we’re even now, don’t you think?” A sly yet comforting smile was slowly creeping on Carol’s face – the first one in many, many months between the two of them and suddenly it made all the difference in the world.

Abby pressed her forehead against Carol’s bosom and let it rest there. Stroking her auburn hair, Carol let her take all the time she needed. She knew Abby hated to shed tears openly, to show her weakness to anyone. She’s been in a bad place, and she’s been flailing, Carol had thought of Abby when her own anger had subsided. It had happened so fast, so unexpectedly she’d been surprised to find her own attitude altered almost immediately. Carol’s mind had been flooded with images of Abby from years, decades gone by – snapshots of memories of the two of them in different stages of their lives. She has never given up on me, and I won’t give up on her now. To have someone to share your life as it is happening is special but to have someone to witness it up close over the span of a lifetime is extraordinary.

“You’ve been awfully busy, haven’t you, dear Abigail?” Carol grinned as her friend lifted her head from its secure haven. Wiping the corners of her eyes, Abby let out a sound that resembled a faint chuckle. “I suppose I have,” she confessed self-deprecatingly. “What a mess…” Smiling, Carol rubbed her cheek encouragingly. “You’ll pull through,” she promised, “after all, you’re quite a catch, Gerhard.” Abby couldn’t help but grin as well. “To be honest, right now I don’t feel too hot.”

She took a serious look at Carol. “I don’t know why I did it to you… after a while it became almost like an obsession – something I had no control over. The more you pushed me away, the tighter I wanted to hold on to you,” she said candidly, “even though I knew it was over, that it had already been over for years – even for me.” Carol nodded knowingly. “Sometimes it goes that way. We cling to familiar situations, even to impossible ones if there’s nothing else to take their place.” Hearing her words, Abby let out a sad little sigh. “Yeah, like any emotion is better than no emotion at all.”

Carol took a peak at Abby’s wine refrigerator. “Do you have any Champagne?” she inquired checking the labels of the nearby bottles. “It’s ten o’clock in the morning, woman!” Abby laughed rolling her eyes. “So is that a no?” Carol asked playfully. “There should be a nice bottle of Veuve Clicquot in the upper right corner…” Abby admitted flashing a mischievous grin. “I meant to drink it with you-know-who this morning but somehow it didn’t quite work out that way…” she was quickly regaining her old sense of humor. “Consider it just a temporary setback, dear – you’ll be back in the saddle soon enough… after all, you’ve got quite a few mares waiting for you to mount them, don’t you?” Carol laughed. “Carol!” Abby exclaimed not believing her ears. “It’s not quite that bad…” she protested sheepishly. “It isn’t? Good lord, I’m thinking we should change the name d’Air into d’Yke !” Carol was enjoying their banter tremendously. One issue still remained unaddressed.

“So what’s the deal with Therese?” Abby finally asked when they’d clinked their champagne flutes. If Carol had been nervous a moment before, uncertain as how to answer any question regarding Therese, she suddenly felt quite at ease with it. “I love her,” she confessed simply. “That bad, huh?” Abby said her smile widening, turning into a warming sun. “Yes. I love her madly.” They looked at each other for the longest time savoring the truth Carol had uttered twice. Abby squeezed her hand lovingly. “What are you waiting for then?” Carol looked at Abby and saw the support and encouragement she had thought she’d already lost for good. “God damn, Carol, that girl is thirsty! You’ve gotta lead her to the water…” Abby laughed good-naturedly.

“I will. I’m working on it,” Carol said beaming at her words. “Remember the rose petal number I was thinking about already a year ago? I gave her one.” Abby burst out laughing. “You gave her an edible bush ???” Carol couldn’t help but chuckle along. “I guess I did, didn’t I..?” Her smile was wickedly delicious. “You’re too much! The poor girl must be dying…” Abby giggled. “I don’t know, she was pretty upset with me for not having told her about our situation,” Carol explained more seriously. “But I did tell her how I feel. I told her yesterday.” Abby’s smile was expectant. “How did she react?” she wanted to know.

“Well, I didn’t really give her time to react… her mother was still there and I just wanted her to have the rose bush. So I just… kinda left right after I said it,” Carol concluded. “Carol! You just left her hanging there? How did she look?” Abby demanded. “Surprised…” Carol replied cautiously. “I bet she was surprised! I think you should go there right now and surprise her again,” Abby urged her impatiently. “I have a better idea…” Carol said demurely. “Something special I’ve been planning for some time now…” Abby’s interest was piqued immediately. “I know all about your specials...” Abby raised her flute to toast her imminent success. “Whatever it is, Therese is one lucky dog…” Abby mused. “She’s not gonna know what hit her… do you need any help in preparations?” she inquired. “I sure could use some…” Carol nodded cryptically. “I’ll let you know.”

When Carol was about to leave an hour later she remembered what she had almost forgotten. “I brought you something,” she said, “maybe it’ll help you clear your mind a bit.” Abby had absolutely no idea what Carol was referring to. “I made these this morning,” Carol continued pulling a little box out of her bag. Abby opened it and a delighted smile spread on her face. The box contained half a dozen small, shell-like cakes. “Read your Proust, dear Abigail and get your shit together,” Carol quipped picking up her coat. The cakes, as they both very well knew, were widely known as madeleines.

On Monday morning, Carol started her day fully aware of the complex and tense situation that might wait for her at d’Air. It made her nervous although it wasn’t exactly Therese she was worried about. Therese had texted her after her mother had left asking if they could meet and “talk about things”. Carol guessed she was referring to her unexpected declaration of love, what else could it be? She took her willingness to discuss what had happened as a good sign – at least Therese wasn’t pretending she hadn’t said anything at all.

When she finally arrived at d’Air, Therese was already there. “Morning…” Carol said gazing at her inquisitively. “Did everything go okay with your mom’s departure?” Therese nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, she got out alright. I’m so relieved…” Her smile was shy and somewhat self-conscious. “I hated that you had to leave after… you know…” Carol looked at her compassionately. “I know,” she said softly, “and I do want us to get together soon.” Therese wanted to say something but couldn’t. “What is it?” Carol asked growing slightly anxious. Did I make a mistake after all?

“Carol…” Therese started with trepidation, “The things I said over at Abby’s… it may have sounded like all I care about is getting in bed with you…” Careful not to let it show, Carol breathed a sigh of relief. “But it’s not… I was just so angry with her and then with you...” Carol took her hands and gazed seriously into her wide green eyes. “You had every right to be angry with me,” she acknowledged gently, “and we need to talk about it.” Her eyes caught an amused glimmer. “As far as getting in bed… well, the urge has been quite mutual, don’t you think?” She squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“I promised you a dinner some time ago, do you remember?” Carol continued in a more confident fashion. “I do…” Therese smiled recalling the events precipitating her offer. “I’d like to make good on that promise – if you still think it’s a good idea?” Therese wore a slight frown. “If I still think… have I given you a reason to believe I don’t?” Her tone was almost accusatory. “I’m just trying to be coy here,” Carol laughed, “and obviously not doing a very good job at it.” She grew serious again. “Well then, would you have dinner with me on Friday evening… at my place?” Therese’s eyes followed her lips closely as she mouthed the words with great care. “Yes, yes I would.”

When everyone had finally arrived, Dannie was ready to speak about the subject Carol had especially asked him to address today. She had called him the previous night and made sure the following week would in part be dedicated to the topic she found appropriate for the days leading up to the dinner. Before he started, Carol wanted to introduce the theme of the week.

“Madame Lily Bollinger, one of the grande dames of French champagne, has been quoted to having said the following: I drink Champagne when I'm happy and when I'm sad. Sometimes I drink it when I'm alone. When I have company I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I'm not hungry and drink it when I am. Otherwise, I never touch it – unless I'm thirsty.” Casting a quick meaningful glance at Therese, Carol smiled at her staff. “There isn’t a drink in the world more legendary than Champagne or more suitable to fit any occasion… In victory you deserve it, in defeat you need it,” she concluded. “Dannie, take it away…”

Excited, Dannie took center stage holding a plumb, sturdy bottle by its bottom. “A bottle of red wine is held by the neck, a woman by the waist, and a bottle of Champagne by the derriere,” he grinned at his listeners. “But before we get to this point, a lot has happened already. It is essential you gain an understanding of the process of the Champagne Method, La Methode champenoise…”

Carol listened to Dannie explaining the time between véraison, the transition from berry growth to berry ripening, and vendange, the actual moment of harvesting the immaculate grapes by hand. Picking the right moment is essential, Carol thought gazing at Therese whose cheeks had a delicate flush to them. Her youth gave her a special glow but to Carol it didn’t seem just a passing thing, something that would fade away in years to come. She’s of fine vintage, made of cuvée, the purest pulp juice of the best grapes available, she mused enchanted by her playful vision. Only cuvée can produce something with such magnificent finesse, subtle aromas and excellent aging potential – something like Therese.

Later Carol met with Abby for a quick powwow. “Can you get me these by Friday?” she asked handing Abby a shopping list she’d written down early the same morning. “You don’t ask much, do you!” Abby chuckled rolling her eyes at the items Carol was requesting. “I know it is a lot in a relatively short time but you are so well connected… surely you can pull this through, can’t you?” she appealed knowing her friend to be prone to flattery. “The food’s relatively simple but… the most famous wine in the world in just four days? God, Carol…” Seeing Carol bat her eyelashes adorably at her, Abby couldn’t help but relent. “Alright, alright, I’ll see what I can do,” she sighed in mock desperation, “I hope she’s worth it…” Carol’s smile was deliciously determined. “Oh, she is…”      

Tuesday

“It is nothing short of magical to experience mere juice turning to wine,” Dannie enthused to his enraptured audience. “A feat having outright biblical dimensions, right?” he envisioned boldly. “This first crucial step takes place either in a tank or in barrels where all the natural sugar of the grapes is being fermented out of the wine.” He went on to describe the next, even more important stage of the traditional method.

“Think of the cuvée as the starting point of the Champagne, not a tabula rasa by any means but rather a promising canvas on which the winemaker applies his stylistic touches.” Dannie paused for a moment to enjoy the effect his words had on the restaurant staff. “Assemblage, the blending, is the key moment, the act of providing each brand of Champagne with the exact right set of characteristics needed to make it stand out from all the rest.”

It is all a play on the diversity of nature, Carol thought, comparable to the ways in which we turn out year after year having accumulated experiences, losses and gains. “Winemaker combines wines from different growths, crus, from different grape varieties and years to add richness, fullness and complexity to his final blend,” Dannie explained reverently. “The Pinot Noir adds strength and structure to the blend, the Pinot Meunier contributes supple body, intensity and roundness, and the Chardonnay an exquisite finesse unmatched by any other of these three Champagne varietals…”

Each new love is always a blend unlike anything previously experienced, a marriage of contrasting and complimentary qualities of two individuals, occurred to Carol. If I have the strength and the suppleness brought by the foregone years, she has the floral finesse, the edge of untarnished wonder.

Wednesday

“How’s everything going?” Carol interrogated Abby who was busy at the office. “Fine, fine… I have the keys to your apartment so I’ll be arranging the delivery for tomorrow.” Something was troubling her, though. “How are you doing, darling?” Carol asked in a softer voice. “Not so good, I’m afraid,” she confessed, “I’m still trying to sort out the mess with Maddie, and it’s affecting everything we do here as well…” Noticing Carol’s alarmed expression she hastened to continue. “But I’ve got this business under control, it’s nothing for you to worry about.” Abby wasn’t keen to go into any further details.

“But I do worry, how can I not?” Carol said pensively, “Is there anything I can help you out in return?” Abby shook her head. “Not at the moment. I think I’ll just have to let her be angry for now…” she confided, “but when I do make my move your assistance would be greatly appreciated.” Nodding, Carol winked at her knowingly. “You know, dear Abigail – we have one great advantage on our side…” Abby was very curious to hear what it was. “We are OLDER.”

Thursday

Carol contemplated taking the day off but decided against it at the last minute. Her presence was after all the one soothing factor at d’Air during these last trying days before the opening night. Besides she wanted to see Therese one more time before tomorrow. It had been sheer torture not to get together all week but then again she knew Therese had been unusually busy at the rese lately.

Continuing problems with the staff, she had told Carol her eyes weary of sleep deprivation and unnecessary stress. “I am looking forward to Friday, though,” she had said flashing the radiant smile that always made Carol go weak in the knees. “Good… I will try to exceed all your expectations,” Carol had replied making sure not to let her on in any specific details of their date night. “Can I bring anything?” Therese had asked happily flustered by Carol’s delightful innuendo. “Just yourself, darling… just yourself.”

Dannie was busy pouring some bubbly in glasses held out by his adoring crowd. “Wait a minute, wait a minute – there’s enough for everyone, chill out…” he laughed filling yet another flute with the precious nectar. “Take a look at the bubbles!” he exclaimed happily. “The French Benedictine monk, Dom Pierre Perignon, may have shouted ‘Come quickly, I’m tasting stars!’ while inventing his Champagne but he knew nothing about the bubbles at the time!” Dannie was obviously having the time of his life, Carol noted amusedly. “In a way, the first champagne was in fact just this phenomenal red wine having no sparkles whatsoever,” Dannie pointed out. “It became the favorite of the Sun King, Louis XIV, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

Prise de mousse, capturing the sparkle, Carol mused following Therese as the brunette raised her flute on her waiting lips. “To kick-start the effervescence the winemaker needs to add sweetness to the blend to ensure the needed rise in pressure,” Dannie elaborated, “All this happens in the bottled state, and only when the time is right, be it months, years, even decades, the cork can be popped open to reveal its magnificent mystery.”

Dannie’s words still echoing in her ears, Carol raised her glass to smiling Therese filling the flirtatious gesture with sweet anticipation of pleasures to come.

Chapter Text

Carol had stayed up late on Thursday evening to get everything as ready as she possibly could for the next day. When she’d finally closed her eyes in the early hours of Friday she’d been utterly exhausted because she needed everything to be perfect, just right to the smallest detail. Rising up again far too early, she felt as if she hadn’t rested at all and it worried her to some extent. I need to take a nap at some point or the evening will be over sooner than either one of us hope, she mused somewhat anxiously.

“You okay? Is there anything I can help you out with?” Noticing Carol’s tiredness, Abby’s voice on the phone sounded genuinely concerned. “Don’t go overexerting yourself now…” Carol smiled at her distress. “I’m fine, don’t you worry, darling… I have everything under control.” A yawn escaped her mouth. “Good God, Carol, you need to get some shut-eye!” Abby exclaimed, “I can always ask Jeanette or someone else to help you out, for Chrissakes…” Carol appreciated her thoughtfulness but remained adamant – she was on top of things. And yes, time permitting “she would indeed take her beauty sleep if only to please her sorry ass”.

Meanwhile at d’Air

“Jesus, Belivet, what happened to you?” Abby stared at Therese not believing what the proverbial cat had just dragged in. “Nothing much…” Therese said rubbing her weary eyes. “Another sleepless night at the rese… I had to pull an all-nighter first in the kitchen and then sorting out the overdue paper work, “ she confessed reluctantly. “You look like shit!” Abby shouted not caring one bit if it hurt her feelings or not. “Haul your ass off to my office NOW,” she ordered, “NOW, I said.” Therese looked baffled but Abby wasted no time pushing her into the back room.

“You are going to take a nap NOW,” Abby continued emphatically. “If you know what’s good for you, you will do as I say and do it NOW!” Therese was too tired to put up a real fight although she did try to resist her at first. “But it’s my turn to do the staff lunch…” she started sluggishly. “I will do the damn lunch and YOU will sleep for at least an hour, OKAY?” Abby looked straight into her eyes. She meant business. “And if you don’t lock the door from inside I will lock you in myself, understand?” Suddenly getting Abby’s point, Therese blushed slightly and retreated to the office obediently. Waiting to hear the door get locked, Abby rolled her eyes. “I can’t even… with these two…”

At six o’clock everything was finally ready. Drawing a deep breath, Carol sat down on the sofa. She let her sight wander over the exquisite setting at the dining area, the rows of glasses, the plates, the shiny silverware and the candles waiting to be lit. Time to get exceedingly nervous, occurred to Carol and it made her snort out loud. She hadn’t really been able to sleep even though she’d tried. She had lied down only to get up twenty minutes later far too antsy to really relax. What the hell is wrong with me, she scolded herself, it’s not like I’m doing this for the first time. As soon as Carol thought of it, she instantly realized the difference between all the times before and the one right now. I’ve never really been active. I’ve always been pursued yet never been the one doing the pursuing.

Overwhelmed by her sudden epiphany, she overlooked the simple fact that everything unfolding between her and Therese had in fact been quite reciprocal. Neither one of them had had an assigned role of any kind in their prolonged foreplay. But Carol also mistook one other thing for there was something she was truly doing, or rather experiencing, for the first time – she could’ve seen it in the mirror herself if she’d been calm enough to notice the exceptionally lovely flush on her cheeks, the secret smile illuminating her remarkable eyes.

The doorbell rang at 7 sharp. It made Carol jump out of her seat and hurry excitedly to the foyer checking her look in the mirror one last time. This is it. You’ll have to do. “Hey…” Therese’s smile was shy and lovely. Carol’s heart was beating so fast she had hard time breathing. At a loss for words, she settled for staring at her long awaited guest instead. They stood at the threshold for quite a while just gazing at each other, unable to make a move one way or another. When Carol finally realized the foolishness of the situation, Therese seemed to pick up on it as well. “Can I come in?” she asked, her voice exuding warmth. “Of course, of course… silly me, keeping you standing there,” Carol retorted, ushering her in.

Therese took off her overcoat revealing what was underneath – a breathtaking, pale pink dress with a seriously plunging neckline. One other thing was obvious as well – Therese was no longer wearing the leg brace. “Is it really just the two of us..?” Therese asked as if not believing her luck. “No Rindy?” Her smile widening, Carol shook her head. “No gravy on the floor?” Carol grinned some more. “Nope. I scrubbed the floor clean,” she replied lightheartedly. “And I just locked the door behind you.” Therese glanced at her suspiciously. “Maybe we ought to pile up some chairs behind it… just to make sure?” She reached for Carol’s hand. “I bolted it, darling,” Carol quipped and led her to the dining room. The touch of Therese’s hand built up her confidence once more.

“You look absolutely wonderful,” Therese managed to utter when she had finally taken her seat on the sofa. “Out of this world…” Her adoring remark made the color on Carol’s face momentarily match the dark red vintage strap dress she was wearing. “Look who’s talking...” she reciprocated feeling wonderfully light-headed and giddy. “You look very fine, darling,” Carol said averting her eyes from the all too tempting cleavage.

“Something smells wonderful,” Therese noted, “I’m glad because I’m starving… didn’t eat a thing at d’Air today. Abby was giving me a hard time, insisting I sleep through lunch…” Carol could barely hide her amusement. “How odd…” she commented feigning total ignorance, “I wonder what’s gotten into her..” Therese looked delightfully bashful. She’s just as shy about this as I am, Carol realized in a split second. Knowing it gave her courage.

“Dannie’s champagne week… I asked him to do it, you know?” Carol confessed. “It’s been one hell of an education, one that I’ve truly enjoyed although I think we all could’ve used a bit more bubbly to go with it,” Therese chuckled. “You will have a lot more of it tonight… bubbly, I mean,” Carol revealed her expression deliciously determined. “Dannie’s lectures were designed to prepare you for our date, you see,” she continued knowing fully well what her words implied. “Really? I had no idea…” Therese admitted growing more confident as well. “But it all makes sense now – seeing all those glasses on the table,” she admired her eyes never leaving Carol for one second.

“I thought we could do a tasting at first… a real champagne tasting leading up to saute bouchon.” Carol suggested playfully. “What is saute bouchon?” Therese wanted to know immediately. “Oh, it’s the quintessential champagne experience – the leaping cork…”

There were several champagne coolers ready to chill the beverage of their choice – Champagne in all its glory, as Therese soon found out. “We’re not going to drink all of them, darling, but I do want you to sample the very best,” Carol specified turning one of the heavy bottles in its icy bed, “Bollinger Grande Année 1990 brut, Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin 1990 Grande Dame, and Krug Collection 1979.”

Filling their glasses with Krug, Carol glanced at Therese expectantly. “Tell me what you think,” she asked eagerly. The mere sniffing of the voluptuous liquid made Therese beam excitedly. “What a creamy, chocolaty splendor with vanilla and… oak?” Carol nodded pleased with her accurate observations. A careful sip widened Therese’s smile even further. “Such mature, delicious elegance,” she pointed out enthusiastically. “Champagne Krug is my personal favorite,” Carol confided, “Their dedication to perfecting a distinct style is something I truly admire.”

Carol picked up a shallow, broad-bowled glass from the side table. “Did you know that these coupes were first manufactured in honor of Marie Antoinette’s anatomy?” Carol grinned at Therese’s obvious surprise. “Or so they say… the Sèvres Porcelain Factory supposedly made the first ones in the late 18^th century to compliment Louis XIV’s wife’s breasts,” she continued. “Not a particularly busty lady in my opinion,” Therese chuckled. “Indeed not,” Carol mused, “nor is the coupe exactly beneficial for Champagne either… it lets both the bubbles and the aroma escape.”

Finally settling down on the sofa next to Therese, Carol sensed there was something awkward about the way they behaved towards one another. It’s the nerves, the excitement, the need to take the edge off, Carol mused. It’s not natural to have to wait for it this long… no wonder if we’re somehow white-knuckled about it.

“Would you do me the honor of opening the Bolly?” Carol requested kindly. “I will walk you through it, if you wish…” Therese picked up the Grande Année and attempted to open it on her own. “Careful, darling,” Carol hastened to stop her. “You must put your thumb on the cork before untying the metal thread keeping it in its place,” she instructed. “Sometimes it wants to leap off as soon as it’s removed, you see…” she said gazing into Therese’s eyes. “Now… hold on to the cork and rotate the bottle instead…” Carol continued patiently, “and as soon as you feel it moving slightly, try to slow it down, try to make its movement gradual and steady.” Clearing her throat, Therese did as she was told. “When it has come out almost completely, tip the bottle slightly to take it out altogether…” Carol explained softly, “That way the cork will come off with a tender sigh, a gentle whizz…” Therese’s mind wasn’t exactly focused on the delicate task, Carol noticed placing her hand gently on her thigh. “You don’t want to waste any of its contents having it erupt too hastily all over the place, now do you?” Now it’s time to be bold. “Sometimes it takes all your strength to keep it from happening, but if it does turn that way, you should be ready to lap the excess into your mouth as soon as it foams over.”  

Somehow Therese managed to open the bottle, and with it she seemed to regain her lost nerve. “Where do you want me to pour this?” she asked almost innocently. “To a flute?” Smiling victoriously, Carol shook her head. “The flute does allow you to admire the effervescence but that’s about it…” she explained. “If you’re going for the really good stuff  you need to have something even better.” Therese urged Carol go on. “A tulip…” Carol lowered her voice, “…Its distinct flower shape gathers all the nuances of Champagne’s divinity while letting us marvel the bubbles in rapid, upward motion.”

Finally she dared to touch Therese’s face tenderly. “And when you raise it to have the desired sip, you’ll appreciate its smooth, polished rim on your lips.” Therese stared breathlessly at Carol her eyes getting cloudy, almost blurry. “Tell me more…” she exhaled moving closer and grazing Carol’s cheek with her lips. “Never drink champagne out of anything else, darling,” Carol whispered, “you’ll spoil the full enjoyment if you settle for anything less than perfection…”

Carol’s words electrified the sudden, sweet silence between them. She let her hand take possession of Therese’s waist. “Always hold the glass by its stem…” Carol murmured to her ear, “You need to keep the temperature just right.” She was becoming fast aware of her own arousal. “Should we taste it then…” Therese gasped, “…the noble nectar?” She was leaning down on the sofa willing to have more, to invite Carol to take charge of the moment they’d both longed for. “You want a taste already...?” Carol teased her gently, “why don’t you tell me what you taste…” Therese pulled her into a deep kiss that at first seemed to go on without an end. “Honeysuckle, jasmine, elderflower, violet…” Gazing into Carol’s eyes, Therese drew a breath before having another intense, prolonged mouthful. “Vanilla, cinnamon, apple… edible rose, of course…”

Her breathing becoming uneven, she tried to stay focused as best as she could. “Abricot, wild strawberry, huckleberry, passion fruit…” she completed anxious to take their embrace past the point of no return. “Passion fruit – really?” Carol whispered her body bristling of impatient want. Therese nodded her look all changed now. “It’s all I can taste…” she admitted desperately. “Carol…” Therese attempted her eyes closing and opening languidly. “Yes…” Carol acknowledged brushing Therese’s lips tenderly with her finger. Therese opened her mouth to take it in, and the gesture shook Carol all the way down to her core. Carol sat up and let the straps of her dress fall over her shoulders. She wanted Therese to see her, to see all of her. The wonder her body evoke in Therese was a sight to behold, it made Carol grateful of her own femininity, of its undeniable beauty she had been reluctant to recognize until now.

Stripped out of clothes, of all obstacles and interferences, their bodies touched marveling the sensation of coming together for the first time, their curves finding their rightful places within each other. The room and everything in it seemed to hold their breath, remain suspended in time – the Champagne momentarily surrendering its sparkle to two lovers, the magnificent dishes piping their fragrance bashfully down. Two sets of eyes never abandoning their lovely lock, they traveled deeper into each other getting wonderfully lost – only to be found again in each caress, in every thought transmitted between their melting minds.

The slow motion having surrendered to their irrepressible need, the heightened pleasure shot like a sharp, sweet arrow through Carol. Her eyes wide open, she witnessed how it hit Therese who was clinging to her – how it joined them absolutely and irrevocably for a fraction of a second that bred new life and nearly unbearable bliss. It tastes like luscious dates, toasted almonds and the finest madeira, flashed unexpectedly through Carol’s brain, the realization leaving her sublimely weak – of lovely recognition, of utter satisfaction of all her senses.

“You are everything to me,” Therese whispered against her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears, she looked happy – happier than anyone Carol had ever met in her life. Kissing away her quiet tears, she savored her earthy saltiness on her tongue. It affected her like a switch of light inside a dark cavern illuminating its every corner, revealing the forgotten splendor of palatial rooms neglected for far too long. Wandering through the former, narrow corridor of her mind, Carol could see the doors along the way fly open to every direction, the space itself expand and do away with walls altogether. I have no boundaries, no restrictions… I can do anything and everything with you.

“How about we eat now…” Carol suggested after a while. “Food, I mean.” Therese stretched her limbs deliciously relaxed. The edge had been taken off. “I’m all for second helpings,” she grinned her eyes awakened to a new glow Carol found irresistible. When Therese tried to wiggle her way back into her dress Carol let out a disapproving sigh. “I’d rather you didn’t…” she commented frowning at her attempt. “Oh really?” Therese laughed, “I’ve heard about naked food but I’m yet to be enlightened about naked dining.” Carol pursed her lips in mock displeasure. “Well, if you insist wearing something, I’d prefer you put on one of my shirts and nothing else…” she started, “Oh, don’t get me wrong, darling, I absolutely love the Calvin Klein you had on but I’d hate it to get messed up if our meal is interrupted for some reason.” Looking terribly pleased, Therese smiled warmly at her. “Whatever you say, my love,” she replied not even realizing at first what she’d just said. Carol, however, was stopped in her tracks. What she’d just heard made her blush involuntarily.

“Carol,” Therese started cautiously, “I love you… and I’m not saying it because you said it first.” She wrapped her arms around Carol. “Look at me, babe – I love you, and I’ve been in love with you for a long time already. You can’t possibly fathom how happy you made me when you told me how you feel.” Therese kissed Carol’s face running her fingers through her blonde hair. “I’ve been walking on air, had my feet blissfully off the ground the entire week.” She took a moment to reflect on days, weeks and months gone by. “And this wait has been so worth it,” Therese winked at her, “you are worth everything because it is for you I… cook.” Hearing the most beautiful, the most touching compliment ever paid to her, Carol forgot about the meal she’d prepared with such loving care and guided her sous-chef to the bedroom. The oysters already resting on their melting ice bed might have voiced their disapproval if they’d been able to but right now Carol had her mind set on the other variation of the food of Aphrodite.

“Did we just ruin the dinner?” Therese worried when they’d ceased their lovemaking. “Not a chance, darling,” Carol consoled her hungry lover. “Let me just perk it up a bit,” she quipped happily, “have a seat at the table, I’ll be right over with the appetizers…” Not paying heed to her request, Therese followed her. “No amusing the bouche, eh?” she asked feigning disbelief. “I think your bouche has been amused enough – for now,” Carol laughed handing her the platter of oysters. “Be a good girl and take these to the table,” she commanded, her voice dripping honey. “I’ll top up our champagne glasses in the meanwhile.”

Therese inserted a knife blade at the oyster’s hinge and popped it open. Squeezing just a few drops of lemon juice on the succulent meat, she offered the first one to Carol. ”Sit next to me,” she said softly, “I want to keep you close…” The oyster was tantalizingly gamy, exciting Carol’s taste buds. It oozed of ocean, of windswept beaches flecked with salty rain. “Are you just going to hold my hand and watch me eat?” she asked suppressing a mocking smile. “I love watching you eat…” Therese confessed sliding her hands up Carol’s bare thighs, “It makes me… very hungry.” The green eyes were hooded again. “Darling…” Carol pressed her palms on top of her hands. “I’m going to serve dinner – consisting of real food – now, because I do want to satisfy your hunger.”

She paused for a moment to see how Therese reacted. “Your every hunger, darling.” Therese’s wandering eyes focused once more. “I want you to,” she admitted recovering from her sweet trance, “now… bring me food, woman!” Her eyes flickering with irrepressible mischief, Therese patted Carol’s thighs patronizingly and leaned against the back of her chair. “Rii-ght,” Carol chuckled amused by the sudden change in her behavior, “Nothing like an abrupt show of chauvinism to warm a chef’s heart, eh?” She got up on her feet her eyes never leaving Therese. “What can I say, babe? You bring out the best in me,” Therese confessed grinning shamelessly.

“You done with the first round of finger food, darling?” Carol asked watching Therese slurp yet another oyster down with gusto. “Never,” she quipped back, “my fingers want their food ravenously all the time…” Rolling her eyes, Carol went to fetch the next number on her repertoire. “Oh my god, Carol… is it – is it what I think it is?” Therese exclaimed gawking at the iced silver chalice Carol placed in front of her. “It most certainly is… Beluga caviar with Roederer Cristal 1961,” she revealed pleased to surprise Therese with such extravagant luxury.

Carol spooned Beluga on the bite-size blini dabbing just a hint of sour cream on top of it. Therese closed her eyes ecstatically as the dark grey beads released their salty mystery against the roof of her mouth. A mouthful of Tsar Nicholas II’s favorite champagne washed it down perfectly. “I’ve died and gone to heaven…” Therese mumbled euphorically. “Second time already tonight?” Carol laughed making Therese blush out of their newly acquired memory. “More like third,” she corrected her dimples having their usual, sovereign effect on Carol. “Pace yourself, darling, there’s a lot more to come,” Carol advised for she didn’t want Therese to become sated too early. “I’m counting on it…” Therese murmured pulling her to a quick yet passionate kiss, “I’m ready to die as many times as humanly possible as long as I get to taste everything.”

“I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine, Therese,” Carol started mysteriously, “I’m sure we’ll end up sharing this deep love of my life and maybe even make it a ménage à trois..? The caviar topped blini Therese was about to shove in her mouth stopped in midair. “Abby made this miracle happen so we have a lot to thank her for…” Carol continued fully enjoying Therese’s confused expression.

“One day, not in a very distant future either, we – you and me – will go to France, to a small village of Vosne-Romanée to see where our sweetheart lies…” Carol introduced eloquently. “We will travel to the dukedom of Burgundy to taste the most mysterious, the most sensuous and the most transcendental of all wines ever created – La Romanée-Conti.” Therese put the blini down. “Please go on,” she said reverently. “The most ethereal red wines of the world, and the most famous wines for sure, come from a short stretch of about 6 miles within the area called Côte de Nuits in Burgundy…” Carol placed a distinguished looking bottle on the table.

“This is one of the only six thousand bottles produced per year in Romanée-Conti, from the cellars of the Domaine de la Romanée-Conti… la Bourgogne profonde, as they call it.” Carol urged Therese to take a closer look at the bottle. “Can you make out the vintage?” she asked. “It’s my birth year!” Therese uttered in disbelief. “It sure is, darling, and we shall drink it tonight.” A knowing smile lingered on her lips. “I have one more bottle of the same vintage but we will hold on to it and store it till some special day or event when you want us to enjoy it.” Therese drew a long, deep breath. “I don’t know what to say…” she stammered, “No one’s ever…” She didn’t know how to finish what she’d started. Carol took her hand and pressed a light kiss on her fingers. “Maybe no one has but believe me, I always will.”

The silence that followed was by no means uncomfortable. It was a silence fit for the moment, fit for the anticipation of opening the sacred wine. “Everything we are about to have next has been tailored to fit this “cathedral wine”, to complement its sublime, concentrated aromas,” Carol explained.      

Carol served the dishes she had planned and executed with unforeseen grace and precision. First, a silken woodcock terrine with pureed foie gras, chopped truffles and pistachios… The perfect marriage of complementing textures and mysterious, elegant flavors, as Therese put it. Then, a delightful interlude of creamy, oven-baked scallops and mussels… An orgastic melt-in-the-mouth extravaganza, acknowledged the sous-chef swiping her plate clean with a piece of baguette.

The braised calf’s liver, firm but moist and perfectly pink throughout, took Therese’s breath away. The thinly sliced delicacy accompanied by shallot gravy and a purée of potatoes, onions, garlic and celeriac suited the red Burgundy perfectly. “We should do this at d’Air – seriously… this is exquisite, I am in awe of this dish!” Therese exclaimed almost afraid to believe the rapturous effect the combination of every forkful and sip of Burgundy had on her.

“On the other hand, I’d be reluctant to put this on the menu, though…” she mused pensively. “Why would you say that?” Carol asked taken aback by her contradictory sentiments. “Knowing it was you who came up with this heavenly delight, everyone would fall in love with you and I’d end up hating our patrons…” Therese murmured an adorable smile slowly creeping on her face. “How did I ever come to have you, my darling?” Carol longed to kiss her. “I saw you across the crowded room, in the auditorium, remember?” Therese said quietly, “and I knew you were something else, someone else.”  

They sipped the wine that was also something else. Deep color, crimson with blue notes with amazingly rich blackberry nose – something so heady and opulent it made them swimmy in the head. Vanilla and spices intermingling, a hint of violet and some smokiness as a delightful backup, the Burgundy warmed their blood. “Such power and intensity I have never experienced in a glass of wine before,” Therese confessed gazing at Carol lovingly. “It is like a living organism, rich and fleshy – a promise of paradise”, Carol completed her thought. It was a wine to be thoroughly contemplated, to be savored meditatively, they both agreed.  

Not surprisingly, it took them an hour and a half to continue their meal, to round it up with a cheese platter Carol had come up with. It consisted of a milder, soft bloomy-rind Brie de Meaux, a soft washed-rind, fresh Reblochon, a semi-hard Beaufort and, quite aptly as far as their short history was concerned, a fresh Brillat-Savarin, a soft, white-crusted cow's milk cheese. Seeing Therese break a piece of rustic sourdough to go with her cheeses filled Carol with inexplicable joy. “I love your appetite, darling,” she complimented watching her closely. “You are insatiable and I adore it.”

Several hours later they sat on the bed facing each other in tender embrace. The night and the love explored had scented the room with earthy, musky tones. Now it was almost dawn, the faint glimmer of the morning coloring their skin in purple haze. Neither one had said a word for quite a while, neither one needed to say anything. Carol opened a waxed paper parcel she’d had waiting on the night table. Its contents made Therese’s already warm smile widen even further out of sheer, intoxicating wonder.

Fresh white truffles and a lump of tender Parmesan – the perfect accompaniments to another bottle of perfect Burgundy, Grands Echézeaux, vintage of 1953.

In the weak light of the new day they chipped away at the cheese and the pearl gray, lilac and rose-veined truffles. To love food with the one you love is to taste heaven. 

Chapter Text

I love Mondays. Switching gears, Carol sneaked in a tender look at Therese who was sitting next to her in the passenger seat. She was going through her ‘to do’ list for the day. They’d just left Therese’s apartment after getting her a fresh set of clothes after their date. Some date, Carol mused lovingly. It had lasted for 60 hours.

“Do you like what you see?” Therese asked suddenly without raising her eyes from her notebook. Carol could see she was smiling. “Was I looking at you?” she said feigning ignorance. “You were indeed,” Therese replied turning her amused gaze at Carol. “And it’s that look that gets us into trouble… at least if we’re in a car.” She put her hand on her thigh. “I’m not at all certain it’s the looking that does it…” Carol grinned all warmed up by Therese’s forward attention. “If you keep that up I’d better pull over.” She pressed her own hand on top of hers. “Or better yet, maybe we should swing by my apartment for a mid-morning snack…?”

Laughing, Therese withdrew her hand slowly and reluctantly. “Look who’s got a one track mind all of a sudden!” Her eyes were smiling and, even more than that, radiantly happy. “Who? Me?” Carol exclaimed pretending not to understand, “I’m worried about the leftovers, darling… what’s going to happen to all the food in my fridge if we’re not there?” She parked the Tesla on its allocated spot next to d’Air. Therese pulled her into a long, wet kiss. “Leftovers, huh?” she murmured catching her breath, “I promise I’ll eat it all as soon as we get back home. As you know, I have a voracious appetite.” Home. Carol was dizzy with excitement the word immediately stirred in her. And Therese seemed so wonderfully oblivious to having said anything out of the ordinary.

When they finally got in, everyone else seemed to be immersed in their work already. Everyone else except Abby, who looked as if she’d been waiting to see them enter the restaurant together. Her lopsided, knowing smile was brimming with kind warmth. “Hmmph…” she started quirking her right eyebrow, “It’s about time you two showed up. The opening’s in six short days, and we still have a lot of work to do.” Blushing, Therese just nodded and touched Carol’s hand shyly. “Ba… Carol, I’m gonna go and change, okay?” She hurried along to put her kitchen gear on.

“So… did you two have a good time?” Abby was grinning shamelessly. “I would say so, yes,” Carol confessed demurely. “Why do I get the feeling this was the understatement of the year?” Abby challenged, “Am I going to have to drag the information out of you or what? Spill!” Carol rolled her eyes in mock disapproval. “As if I’m going to tell you everything, dear Abigail…” she chuckled, “I’m much too tactful to spare any details of our… FUCKING AWESOME WEEKEND!” Abby burst out laughing. “Fucking awesome or awesome fucking?” She couldn’t help herself. “Puh-lease, darling… may the mighty veil of bashfulness descend upon this weirdly inappropriate conversation and prevent me from ever answering questions of this particular kind,” she recapped theatrically. “A lady never tells…” Abby seemed content enough. “I’m so happy for you. I really am,” she said candidly. “I know you are.” Carol touched her hand softly.

“How’s everything here?” Carol inquired wanting to move into other more pressing issues at hand. “So far, so good,” Abby replied, “We had some problems with deliveries at first but now everything seems to be falling into place and by Thursday evening we’ll be fully stocked – excluding the fresh produce, of course.” Pleased, Carol nodded her appreciation. “I will take care of it myself first thing Friday morning.” Oh, Friday… I love Fridays. “I’ll do the green market rounds with Jeanette, and the fish and shellfish with…” Carol wanted to say with Therese but suddenly the idea of going to the Fulton Fish Market with her didn’t seem like the brightest idea. The weather beaten Semco Seafood Inc. emblem loomed at the back of her brain like a warning signal.

“You worried about the Semco kid?” Abby guessed keeping her voice down. Carol let out a deep sigh thus admitting to it. “There’s really no reason,” Abby said emphatically, “Therese is a big girl, she can take care of herself, and it’s not like you two are on any uncertain footing here.” Carol wanted to agree with her but she couldn’t help but feel uneasy about it. “I know but still…” she hesitated to finish her sentence. Truth to be told, she didn’t know how to round it up at this time. “Well, you don’t have to do it this Friday… maybe it’s better if you send Phil to do it, he’s the chef poissonnier anyway.” Abby circled her arm around Carol and led her towards the back room. “Put it out of your mind for now, and let’s get started.”

They went through the schedule for the entire week, Carol overseeing to each and every detail on the timetable Abby had mapped out. “On the first day we’ll only do dinner,” Abby pointed out, “although the bar room will be open as well.” She flicked through her notes. “The shifts have been set for the entire month, 12-hour-slots for each employee…” she continued, “…and then there’s the question of the chef’s table – do you want to start it right away?”

Gritting her teeth, Carol thought hard about it. “Should I? Or is it too much for the opening night?” Abby shook her head decisively. “No, I think you should – let’s seat the immediate family and friends over there, and maybe the restaurant critic as well? She’s bound to show up at some point.” The thought of being scrutinized right off the bat made Carol shudder with anxiety. “Okay, have it your way…” she gave in begrudgingly.

“The wine cellar is stocked with 1,000 bottles so far… Dannie’s seen to it with his assistants, and we even have a new Finnish bartender to take over the bar counter,” Abby smiled wiggling her eyebrows. “What was that for?” Carol asked laughing. “Oh, nothing…” Abby replied failing to maintain her poker face.

“We can serve up to fifty guests per night in the dining room,” Abby went on, “as far as the tasting menu is concerned.” Carol took a look at the reservations. “Is she who I think she is?” she asked pointing a name on the list. “Yeah, the knock-out Brazilian doctor and her bride-to-be… or should I say bride-at-the-moment,” Abby confirmed, “and this one here you’ll know as well – the one with her own talk show.” Carol grinned at the name. “So this is a friggin’ lesbian restaurant after all!” she laughed wholeheartedly. “I believe it is,” Abby smiled, “but I’m so not complaining!”

Carol made some notes of her own on the margins of Abby’s lists. “You haven’t put in the meeting on the timing for the mise en place here, have you?” Abby took the paper and checked it out. “You’re right… I haven’t – maybe we could do it tomorrow?” she suggested. “The head chefs need to be on top of this, and we should also go through the alternatives at the same time,” Carol pointed out. After all, there were always guests with allergies and other dietary restrictions to consider.              

Therese was busying herself in the kitchen handing orders for both the workshop team and the stagers alike. It wasn’t really her job to keep an eye on the stagers but she wanted to familiarize herself with the newest part of the personnel, to spot their strengths and weaknesses. It may become handy to know what they’re capable of if we run into some unexpected trouble, she’d explained her motives to Carol. The international staff they’d recruited out of thousands of applicants was a tremendously talented crowd brimming with potential that would undoubtedly result in new culinary careers and success stories.

“Where’s Madeleine?” Carol asked Abby when it was almost time to break for lunch. “Oh, she’s somewhere… in the dining room, I’m sure. She wants to keep a tight rein on the wait staff or something.” It wasn’t at all typical of Abby to be so vague about anything let alone the person she’d hired herself. “You’re still not in speaking terms, is that it?” Carol confronted her bluntly. “I suppose you could say so…” Abby chuckled meekly, “since yelling terms might be a more appropriate way to describe our situation although it is she who does the yelling… I’ve been assigned the role of the listener.” Distressed by her friend’s words, Carol shook her head. “You need to fix it, and you need to fix it soon. Has she heard your side of the story?” Abby didn’t say anything. “You haven’t talked to her???” Carol asked utterly surprised. “She doesn’t give me a chance to talk!” Abby complained vocally, “Every single time I try to say anything, to get my message across, she takes off or otherwise ignores whatever it is I try to tell her!” She sounded desperate.

“If you don’t mind me asking – do you know what you want in the first place?” Carol asked cautiously. “What was the deal with Genevieve? Is it something you’re still thinking about?” Abby shook her head. “No. It was a one-time thing, and it just coincided with my getting to know Madeleine – and we were not in any way being exclusive at the time!!!” Abby’s fierce statement spoke volumes. It also amused Carol a hell of a lot. “Abby darling, it’s not me you need to tell all this…” she admonished her unable to keep a smile from creeping on her red lips.

“Phil has started with the fish fridge stock list, and he’ll finish it by Friday morning,” Abby noted when they had resumed their task at hand, “Tommy’s is almost done already, so you can take a look at it whenever you have a moment to spare.” Carol was very relieved to hear everything so far but there was still one question troubling her mind. “And Genevieve’s department? Have you talked with her at all?” The thought of having two tangled-up relationships troubling d’Air simultaneously was unnerving to her.

“Oh yes, we’re good!” Abby smiled reassuringly, “Everything’s fine, and she has her preparation sheet ready – desserts, snacks, it’s all there… she’s a feisty one…” she grinned shamelessly. “Abby! Make up your mind already!” Carol laughed shaking her head hopelessly at her. “I have! But there’s no harm in appreciating female beauty and intelligence… is there?” Abby said defensively yet not at all too innocently. “I think I should catch up with her later today and see what she’s done,” Carol commented, “Do you know where she is at the moment?” Abby looked as if she were about to burst out laughing any minute. “Let me venture a guess… at the bar counter, maybe?” I don’t even want to know, Carol thought letting out a long, desperate sigh.    

The entire staff had already gathered for lunch when Carol and Abby joined the others in the bar room. “Here, babe…” Therese whispered to Carol while handing her a steaming bowl of soup, “Something sweet and hot for someone sweet and hot...” Her fingers grazed Carol’s neck secretively sending lovely shivers all around the blonde woman’s body. “Sit down, darling,” she urged Therese overcome by such tenderness she wished she could return her gesture in some meaningful way. It occurred to Carol they hadn’t talked anything about how they would act in public after all that had happened, and it made her nervous.

On the one hand, she wanted desperately to show her affection to Therese, but on the other hand, she was afraid how it might be interpreted within the staff. How Therese would feel about it at the workplace. Would someone think less of Therese as her sous-chef if the intimate relationship they now had would come into the open? Therese was only just beginning to make a name for herself and it wouldn’t be beneficial for her if her colleagues would mistakenly think she’d gotten where she was by… Carol shuddered at the mere thought. By fucking her boss... People could be so mean. “You okay, babe?” Therese asked noticing the troubled look on her face. “Yes, of course, I’m quite fine – why wouldn’t I be?” she replied smiling at her in a way she hoped would convince her beloved once and for all.

“What on earth is this?” Carol asked delighted by the first spoonful of the sheer yellow velvet in her mouth. “I came up with it just an hour ago… while thinking of you, of course,” Therese acknowledged, “I wanted to create something that would be like a brilliant burst of sunshine, an absolute, irresistible joy to taste, enticing and blissfully hot – as well as sweet and substantial. Something like you,” she chuckled winking her eye at Carol. “And now you’ve invited the entire staff to have a taste of…” Carol smiled analyzing her mouthful, “…this deliciously nutty and spicy veggie blend?” Therese laughed at hearing her playful definition. “To the others it’s just a carrot and peanut butter soup… no other associations needed or encouraged whatsoever”.      

When the day was almost done, and the kitchen was being scrubbed clean by the entire staff – a daily routine everyone was obliged to take part in – Carol gathered her inner circle together. “Listen…” she started determinedly, “Now that we have only a couple of days left, we need to make sure everyone is up-to-date with what we’re going to serve and how.” She could feel the excitement building all around her as she was speaking. “On Thursday evening we’ll do the tasting menu for the wait staff.” Therese was eager to agree. “We’ll do it in the right order with the wine pairings, right?” she added casting a quizzical look at Carol. “That’s right. Dannie, will you see to the wines?” Dannie smiled and nodded his agreement. “Therese, you will make sure the dishes look impeccable – as you always do…” she positively beamed at her sous-chef. I love Thursdays!

“Maddie…” she turned to see where her headwaiter was situated, “You’ll undoubtedly help me out in introducing the dishes for the transmitters, agreed?” Her arms folded, Madeleine stood a few feet apart from Carol. “Of course. I’ve been looking forward to this for quite some time already.” She glanced at Abby who seemed nervous just to hear her speak. “I wouldn’t want anyone in my staff to be unprepared for the opening night… everyone deserves to know what they’re getting into before being thrown right in the middle of the real deal… dishes coming and going at all times can be very confusing… not knowing what to expect at any given time or how to present them to a customer let alone to yourself – that would constitute a nightmare in my book,” she concluded. I bet it would, Carol thought holding her breath after hearing her rambling speech. She’s mad as hell – a veritable Mad-die.                    

Maddie’s surprising outburst had its perplexing effect on others as well and it took a considerable while for them to recover from it. “Umm… thank you, Madeleine,” Carol said casting a stern look at Abby who tried to hide behind Phil and Tommy. “I appreciate your concern, and I will definitely do my damndest to keep the scenario you so vividly just portrayed from ever happening here.” She hated the tension she only now fully came to understand. I need to do something about it, and I need it to happen before Friday.              

“What the hell was that ?” Therese asked when they were sitting in the car. “I’ve never heard anything as preposterous in my life – it most certainly had nothing to do with d’Air,” she chuckled shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re right,” Carol acknowledged, “And I for one didn’t like the sound of it, not at a time like this.” She felt helpless and it showed. “So they’re still not speaking to each other?” Therese assumed correctly. Carol summed up what Abby had told her in the morning. “Hmm…” Therese mused pensively, “Something definitely needs to happen.” She had a sly look on her face. “Do you have something in your mind already?” Carol asked curiously. “I just might,” Therese replied a devilish smile appearing on her lips. “And I think you and I could just make it happen…” Listening to Therese’s plan, Carol’s face lit up. “Darling, you’re a genius… We’ll do the preparations tomorrow and then proceed with it the day after!” Oh, Wednesday… what’s not to love!

Chapter Text

Tuesday 0730 hours

“Do we have everything we need?” Carol asked opening the trunk of her Tesla. “The camping gear?” Therese nodded. “Check.” Carol looked pensive. “The broom stick and the duct tape?” Therese grinned. “Check.” They rummaged the trunk for a little while longer. “I can’t find the inflatable… thingy…” Carol fretted. “I put it on the backseat with the pump,” Therese reassured her, “I’m sure we have everything, don’t worry. We’ve gone through this multiple times – I’m going to call the security during the lunch hour and ask them to ignore all alarms – should there be any – between nineteen hundred hours Wednesday evening and zero seven hundred hours Thursday morning.”

She’s using military time, it’s so sexy, Carol gasped glancing at her appreciatively. “Should we synchronize our watches?” Therese asked attentively. “I know just the thing we’re going to synchronize right now…” Carol said breathlessly grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the front door. “I thought we’re going to work…” Therese objected impishly but not at all convincingly. “I’m sure no one will notice if we arrive fifteen minutes later than usual,” Carol insisted storming through the foyer. “FIFTEEN MINUTES?” Therese exclaimed. “Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, an hour… WHATEVER… will you please shut up, darling,” Carol chuckled attempting a new world record time in getting rid of two sets of clothing at the same time.

Tuesday 1030 hours

The inner team had gathered together to go through the structure of the menu dégustation according to chef Carol. “Are we all on the same page as far as our culinary narrative is concerned? If not, I need to know now,” she stressed. The confident faces around her nodded in agreement. “Excellent!” she said enthusiastically. “And tomorrow starts the second round of d’Air workshops…” The faces stared at her somewhat confused. “Tomorrow???” Genevieve’s voice was laced with genuine disbelief. “We haven’t even opened yet and you are already talking about… the next menu?”

Carol smiled warmly at her discouraged pastry chef. “I know, I know… it may sound premature but this is how we will roll,” she explained, “we know what we’re going to serve on Friday and on every night for a month but we must know what comes after that as well.” She wanted to put everyone’s mind at ease. “After all we don’t want to be caught with our pants down, right?” Hearing her quip, Therese couldn’t help but smirk unabashedly and it made Carol blush ever so slightly. It depends… “The point being that we must always be prepared for the next phase, always think ahead.” She picked up the freshly printed menu for Friday. “This…” she started emphatically, “…is now dead to us in a way. Not as far as the execution or the possible, needed tweaking at times is concerned but creatively.”

She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “When I was writing my book Acquired Taste, I relished every minute of it but the second it was out there, available for everyone to see and read, it had already left me.” She placed her hands on a knife bag with the initials “T.T.” lying on the table in front of her. “There should never be anything half-hearted about a thrust of our knives, the final assembly of a plate or the tasting of the ready dish we have just put together,” Carol pointed out. “We must give it our all every single time even if our minds are already surging through new creative dimensions,” she concluded.

“Talking about knives…” Abby started apprehensively, “I’d appreciate it if each and every one of you would take better care of your bags and not leave them lying around.” All eyes turned to Tommy who seemed uncomfortable under sudden scrutiny. “You have only yourselves to blame if you find your tools unsatisfactory the next morning,” Abby continued sharply. “I can just see it… opening your bag and discovering your cherished blades all dull and pointless,” Dannie elaborated wistfully. “Like your life, Tommy!” he retorted shamelessly managing to get everyone except the person in question to chuckle at his wisecrack. “Okay, okay,” Carol laughed good-humoredly, “give the poor fella a break and let’s get cracking… Starting early tomorrow morning we will reconvene at the test kitchen in two separate groups.” Therese had been waiting to hear her say just that. “I will lead one group and chef Aird the other.”

The combination of the formal chef epithet in front of her married name brought Carol surprising discomfort. It seemed to separate her from the others in a way she couldn’t quite wrap her head around. She was different, Carol realized thinking it through, for she was their superior, the one who steered the ship yet the thought depressed her mightily for the time being. “You okay?” Abby asked afterwards having noticed the passing shadow on her face. “Yeah, I’m just being silly,” Carol admitted. “It’s just sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out to be the captain of anything at all…” Abby squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. “I have never met anyone more suitable for the position you now hold,” her smile was soothingly warm, “and you will continue to shine in it, I have no doubt about it.”

Tuesday 1400 hours

“Hey you…” Therese whispered mouth-to-mouth stealing an intimate moment with Carol in the dressing room. To be able to feel her arms around her if only for a short while re-energized her better than a good night’s sleep – not that she’d been sleeping particularly much recently any way. “Umm…” Carol replied her eyes radiating newfound love and contentment, “I like this better than the staff lunch.” Her smile was wonderfully contagious. “I know”, Therese murmured not at all demurely – at times she was so confident about her sex appeal it made Carol swoon. Most of the time, she acknowledged to herself and the mere thought warmed her up splendidly.

“Did you make the call?” she asked reluctant to interrupt their more passionate tête-à-tête. “Yes, it’s settled. Now all we have to do is to get everything in place and we’re ready… although the really tricky part comes only later,” Therese mused wistfully. “Are you afraid we won’t be able to pull this through?” Carol worried. “We have no choice but to make it happen,” Therese replied, “and we most certainly will. With force if we have to – and that’s what we’re really planning to do here anyway.” Hearing movement from the room next door, Carol nodded and let go of Therese’s waist. “I just hope this won’t blow up on our faces… make everything even worse?” After all one could never predict how two already aggravated people would react to such a blatant intervention. “Then again the rewards will be more than worth it if this goes according to our plan,” Therese commented. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Wednesday 0930 hours

The morning session was at full swing with everyone eager to participate. Carol took pleasure noticing how yesterday’s confusion over the picking up of their creative routine right away had vanished over night. “Think outside the box!” she reminded in steady intervals, “There are no limits in combining the sweet and the savory.” She went over to each table to examine what her team had come up with so far. “We are not looking for something in particular… it’s what we find that’s interesting and important.”

Genevieve was in deep thought. “What do you have here?” Carol asked her interest piqued by her exceptionally pensive expression. “I’m toying with heirloom tomatoes and plums… thinking of sautéing them in caramelized sugar and corn syrup.” She placed the colorful slices in the skillet and tossed them around in the languidly liquid caramel. “It looks exquisite,” Carol complimented, “How do you propose to serve it?” Genevieve’s cheeks had a delightful pink hue to them. “Fresh goat cheese is a no-brainer, of course – or fresh ricotta, come to think of it,” she mused, “You could also use aged cheddar for some seriously robust salty aroma...” Carol could tell she was still thinking of something else. “But… the thing I’m really excited about is this…” Beaming, Genevieve opened a jar she’d had waiting on the table. “What is it?” Carol asked impatiently. “It’s basil ice cream!” She revealed utterly pleased with her vibrant creation.

Genevieve took a small bowl and spooned a portion of tomatoes and plums in it. Topping it with a scoop of her creamy, chilled wonder, she marveled it like a mother proud of her gifted child. “One more thing…” she said noticing Carol’s eagerness to have a taste. A drizzle of basil oil added a bright streak of chlorophyll on the extraordinary whole. “Therese…” Carol mumbled incoherently after her first spoonful, “You must have some of this.” The tomatoes and plums complimented each other brilliantly in their lusciously fruity and acidic notes. The magnificent basil infused in cream took her totally by surprise rendering her speechless for a moment. The cooling and fresh sweetness combined with the mellow fruit and the intense basil syrup was an irresistible mélange of a dessert, a rich and flavorful treat paying homage to summer.

Therese closed her eyes savoring the splendor of it all. “Amazing…” she murmured her eyes slowly fluttering open. The undeniable exuberance over Genevieve’s jubilant bowl brought everyone over in no time. “Let me, let me…” Dannie demanded elbowing a place for himself in the front row. “God yes!” he grinned dipping the spoon once more into the dessert, “How about some refreshingly frizzante sparkle to go with this? I know just the right Piedmont wine…” he exalted flicking through his mental notes. “I’m thinking of adding some pepper tuiles on it,” Genevieve elaborated coyly, “just to give it some extra, spicy punch, you know.”

Wednesday 1545 hours     

“Today’s the day,” Carol fretted while wrapping up the leftover ingredients and placing them in the fridge. “Don’t forget to snatch her phone…” Therese smiled knowingly at her nervous lover. “I won’t, I’m not forgetting anything… sheesh, babe, the only thing I’m worried about is you being so agitated.” Carol attempted to smile but she could tell it didn’t quite come out right. “I know, I know…” she started helplessly. The touch of Therese’s hand on hers made her feel a lot better though.

“The food, the beverages, all the stuff from the car… check,” Therese listed to put her mind at ease. “I will meet Madeleine at d’Air in half an hour and I’ll take it from there. In case you didn’t know, I can be quite devious at times…” she laughed wiggling her eyebrows. “Oh I do know, you little minx…” Carol quipped noticeably relieved, “I know all about your wicked ways, Miss Let-Me-Just-Leave-My-Hand-On-Your-Thigh-While-Tasting-Reds.” Therese smiled feigning mock apology. “Well, what can I say? It seems to have a wandering mind of its own…” For a second Carol hoped it would indeed be just as daring again as it had been that fateful night but when Therese was just about to put her mouth – or rather her hand – where her money was, someone interrupted their promising start.      

“Get a room, goddammit,” Abby laughed, “or at least lock the bloody door!” She had some urgent business to go over with Carol. Blushing, Therese placed a quick kiss on Carol’s cheek. “I gotta go, babe…” she smiled locking eyes with her, “Don’t worry about anything – easy-peasy, okay?” Smiling self-consciously, Carol acquiesced to nod at the brunette who was expected at d’Air any minute now.

“What was that all about?” Abby asked when Therese had left. “Nothing really,” Carol replied convincingly, “Just the opening night jitters…” Abby seemed contented with her answer. “I thought we could check tomorrow’s line-up – for the waiters’ tasting menu, that is,” she commenced, “I can’t get Madeleine to talk about this with me so we’d better do it.” Abby knotted her brow. “I do get emails from her… very short ones,” she explained, “her favorite word nowadays is clearly ‘whatever’…” Feeling suddenly quite confident, Carol looked tenderly at her friend. “I’m sorry to hear that, I really am but please, remember to keep an open mind about… well, about everything, okay?” For a long time Abby stared into nothingness making Carol wonder if she’d heard anything at all. “Yeah, sure… but let’s get this thing over and done with, shall we?”

Wednesday 1730 hours

“All this talk about tomorrow makes me seriously thirsty… how about getting a drink?” Abby asked stretching her weary arms. She got up and took a peek at the wine refrigerator. “Umm… Abby… I’d love a drink but how about we take it somewhere else,” Carol started desperate to gain control of the situation, “We’ve been here since 6.30 in the morning and I, for one, could use a change of scenery.” Closing the fridge door, Abby seemed to find sense in her suggestion. “There’s this really nice cocktail bar a couple of blocks down,” Carol mentioned nonchalantly, “They mix a mean Pisco sour over there.” She still knew the magic word as far as Abby’s hedonistic imbibing was concerned. “What are we waiting for then?” Her friend grinned, “Let’s go!”

--

“Want another?” Abby asked downing the last drops of her delicious sour. “Thanks, but I have to drive,” Carol replied dropping her wallet inside her handbag. She let it remain on her lap for now to give her fingers something to fidget with. “Will you give me a lift back to the kitchen? I have my car parked next to it.” Abby was in good spirits as they exited the establishment and got into her Mercedes. The drive was relatively short and filled with Abby’s excited talk about the opening night. Her heart pounding heavily in her chest, Carol had a hard time following her lighthearted banter yet she hoped Abby wouldn’t notice her growing discomfort.

It’s 7.30 pm already… she worried, a bit behind in the schedule. Her phone beeped.

LAUNCH @ 1945 HOURS

THE PACKAGE WILL BE DELIVERED AND READY

-T

God, she’s so dramatic… Carol chuckled nervously to herself. She sent a quick acknowledgement of the message received and settled back on the passenger’s seat. “…and then I said they’d better come up with someone else than the old bag who can hardly tell a difference between tapioca soup and oatmeal!” Abby’s words made no sense to her at all but she did her best to join in the raucous laughter.

Abby parked the car on the curb and cast an inquisitive look at Carol. “Here we are,” she said smiling adorably, “Anything else I can do for you?” Carol got up slowly uncertain as what her next move should be. “Can you wait for a while? I’ve had some trouble with the Tesla lately…” I hope this didn’t sound too lame. “Of course, take your time – I can even take a look if you want?” Abby offered kindly. “NO, NO, NO – I mean, it won’t be necessary, but thank you…” Carol rambled and walked over to her car. She looked for her car keys inside her bag. They were exactly where they were supposed to be. Instead of getting in, she returned to Abby’s Mercedes.        

“I seem to have misplaced all my keys,” Carol started her eyes wandering everywhere except on her friend, “They must be in my chef coat’s pocket or something…” Amused, Abby raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you being absentminded all of a sudden! Must be all that sex diminishing your more rational functions, eh?” she chuckled poking Carol between the ribs. “You stay put here, I’ll go and fetch your damn keys”. Once outside, Abby closed the car door behind her. “Ahem… Abby – can I borrow your phone? I need to make a quick call,” Carol pleaded. “You have your own damn phone, don’t you? I saw it in your hand just a minute ago,” Abby commented. “I… I ran out of battery…” Carol said sheepishly. I suck at this! “Here you go, dear, give Therese my very best…” Abby relented winking her eye at Carol. She disappeared inside the building.

Follow her closely. Make sure she doesn’t see you. Remembering Therese’s instructions built up her confidence as she glanced at her watch. 7.43 PM. Maddie will be waiting though she won’t know it. Carol sneaked in silently. She could see Abby looking for her chef coat and not finding it.

“Oh hello, Therese, funny you should be here… Carol’s just about to call you!”

Everything’s going as planned, Carol realized listening in to the quiet discussion between Abby and Therese.

“Have you by any chance seen her chef coat anywhere? I promised to fetch it for her…” It’s now or never, please, make it sound like it’s nothing unusual, darling…

“She left it where..? Why on earth would she..? God, I’m going to give those boys a piece of my mind,” Abby commiserated with the clever and cunning sous-chef.

Seeing Abby take the first crucial steps toward the right direction, Carol closed the gap between herself and Therese. NOW! They nodded in agreement and pushed the heavy door shut in one tremendous thump.

Abby and Maddie were safely locked inside the walk-in freezer.      

Chapter Text

“Open the fucking door, now!” Abby’s voice was loud enough to boom through the heavy metal door that was secured with not only the broken lock but also with the broomstick stuck through the handle. A generous amount of duct tape was wrapped around the broom and the handle to keep the stick from falling off its place.

“Can’t hear you!” Therese quipped trying hard not to giggle.

“This is so not funny. I demand you to let me out of here right now or I will alert the security.” Madeleine sounded so angry and hurt it made Carol wonder if they’d done the right thing locking them up in the first place. Therese’s determined look made her feel better, though.

“Read the note, darlings,” Carol shouted back. “You’ll find it in one of the compartments with the rest of the stuff we put there.” Ignoring further protests, they left the test kitchen hoping for the best.

“I’ve timed the thermostat to gradually cool the room down for the next couple of hours,” Carol told Therese, “the temperature will start rising again after dropping to a certain level – let’s just hope they’ll get close enough before that happens…”

The note accompanied by a delicious plateau of assorted seafood and a bottle of top end Chablis was short and sweet:

Dear Abby & Maddie,

Desperate times demand desperate measures – do forgive us for taking the initiative but we could see no other way out of this predicament. No one will come to your rescue before 6.30 tomorrow morning so use this time well.

You’ll find everything you need in the various compartments.

Love,

Carol & Therese

“Did you recheck with the security?” Carol worried Maddie’s words still echoing in her ears.

“I sure did. I wanted to make certain that whoever was going to be on duty tonight wouldn’t rush in here in any circumstances.” Having said that, Therese stopped and looked at Carol quizzically. “When was it again you had the security system installed inside the freezer?”

Oh hell… Carol’s smile was slightly guilty. “It’s been there all along,” she admitted sheepishly.  

“Oh, really..?” Therese cupped Carol's face with both hands and looked straight into her eyes. “Even when we were locked in there?”

“Well, yes…” Carol replied coyly trying to avert her eyes.

“Yet you didn’t breathe a word about it?” Therese chuckled, “I wonder how on earth it happened to slip your mind?” She clearly enjoyed seeing Carol squirm in front of her.

“I’m sure I would have remembered it at some point,” Carol said lifting her chin and finally facing her stare with a devious smile. “Let’s just say I found your idea of body heat captivating at the time.”

Smirking, Therese pulled her close. “You did, didn’t you… you shameless tease…” Their lips got very close to each other.

“You must mistake me for someone else,” Carol exhaled hungrily, “Take a look in the mirror, darling, I’m sure you’ll find the real tease there…”

Everything was calm and quiet when they got back the following morning. Carefully removing the tape and sliding the stick out of its place, Therese opened the heavy door. Fearing what might await them, Carol drew a long, agitated breath. I just hope they haven’t killed each other…             

Nope. They hadn’t. “Oh god…” slipped out of Carol’s mouth as her eyes met with the unnecessarily explicit scene on the inflatable mattress inside the freezer. Blushing up to her ears, Therese turned her back on Abby and Maddie who apparently hadn’t heard them coming at all.

“Take your time…” Carol managed to cough out, “We’ll wait in the other room.” Biting their lips in a desperate attempt not to laugh, they retreated to the kitchen area. Winking her eye at Therese, Carol filled the espresso pot and put it on the stove.

“Care for coffee?” Carol asked the two cell mates caught in the act. Seriously amused, she took turns looking at both Abby and Maddie who seemed tongue-tied all of a sudden. “I bet you could use some pick-me-up right about now?” she continued bursting out in wonderfully girlish giggles, which seemed to know no end. Her laughter was so contagious none of her companions couldn’t help but follow her lead.

Therese opened the hamper she’d brought with her and placed its contents on the table: fresh scones straight from the oven, clotted cream, home made raspberry jam, sliced fruit and berries. Carol popped open a chilled bottle of Billecart-Salmon 1996 Cuvée Nicolas Francois Billecart she had waiting in the wine refrigerator. From the corner of her eye she noticed Maddie’s hand seek Abby’s under the table.

I’ve waited for this moment for so long, she realized, this moment when we’re both finally happy. She smiled at Abby who looked younger than ever. Her face had a glow Carol hadn’t seen before and it filled her with tender warmth. You do deserve everything, she mused gazing at Abby who was busy stealing shy glances at Maddie. The redhead seemed to be beaming at her half-empty espresso cup.

I will remember this, Carol decided even though it didn’t need a conscious decision. I will remember these two lovebirds cooing under my eyes, and I will remember Therese as she is right now. Once again she let herself get lost in the wonder of Therese – the way she topped her scone with cream and strawberries, how she wiped her forehead thinking if anything was missing from the spread. Carol felt calm, she felt fulfilled.

“Okay, everybody!” Carol called out to gather her staff around her. “Are we ready for the waiters’ tasting menu?” She was excited, raring to go. This was the dress rehearsal after all.

Both Therese and Maddie nodded eagerly. “Ready whenever you are!” Maddie quipped joyfully. The change in Maddie was so apparent Carol had noticed the waiters whispering about it. Heck, everyone has noticed it, she mused as Abby passed her by on her way to the office. She was whistling.

The tasting menu started with an amuse Therese presented to the waiting staff. “This is what we call a Marshmallow Carbonara,” she started. “It’s main ingredients are bacon, white wine, sugar, egg whites, glucose and its been thickened with gelatin.” Plates were delivered to the dining room and each waiter was presented with one. A white, square plate was adorned with a disc of about half an inch thick with an egg yolk on top of it. “Wine, water, sugar and glucose have been heated up to 266°F,” Therese continued, “and the hot liquid added to the egg whites foamed separately.”

“When is the bacon incorporated to the whole?” asked one of the waiters sitting next to Dannie.

“First it’s been cooked crisp, and then minced,” Therese elaborated patiently, “and it’s actually introduced only in the last stage the gelatin having already been added to the mix.” She pointed at the ready amuse. “The mixture is coated with a blend of confectioner’s sugar and corn starch after which one can cut slices of it.”

The waiters took their time tasting the exciting combination of the salty, smoky bacon accentuating the delicate fluffy sweetness. “The egg yolk on top is a result of spherification,” Carol added, “it not only jellifies it, it keeps it in tact.”

The Iced Margaritas with Salty Air served up next were a definite hit. The wait staff was visibly relaxed after they’d sampled their moulds. Maybe a bit too relaxed, Carol worried listening in to the easy banter growing louder.

“Pay attention,” Maddie reminded her staff, “This is not your night off, this is work.” Carol could see Abby watching her beloved with such pride it looked as if she was about to burst. She adores her.  

Green Olives in a Jar appealed to the crowd of professionals as well, no doubt about it. The Steamed Brioches with Buffalo Mozzarella quieted everyone down out of the sheer gratitude to be able taste something so subtle yet fabulous. Therese led the waiters through all of the dishes going into detail each time with an uncanny understanding of what a prospective patron might be especially interested in.

Carol let her do most of the talking only contributing from time to time. She’s brilliant and she has such an amazing grasp of the concept of d’Air, Carol thought looking around, estimating the effect Therese’s words had on the staff. This is our love child, occurred to her, not just mine but ours.

The next course on the menu was Lobster Soup created by the chef saucier, Jeanette. It had started out as a mere lobster broth but after she had developed it into an ambitiously flavorful, rich temptation Carol had insisted it be put on the menu. She had asked Jeanette to introduce the dish to the waiters.

“First of all the lobster shells have been roasted in the oven for half an hour to bring out their full flavor. I’ve sautéed celery, onion, fennel, carrot, root ginger and cloves of garlic in olive oil to give them some color,” Jeanette started shyly.

“Speak up!” Someone yelled from the back table. It made Jeanette who was already self-conscious blush uncomfortably.

“Darling, please continue,” Carol smiled at her reassuringly. “You’re doing splendidly.” Maddie had already put her troops back in order.

Nodding, Jeanette drew a quick breath and continued. “The vegetables are being sautéed a couple of minutes more with tomato puree until the shells and cognac are added in the pan.” By this time her voice was stronger and her manner more confident.  

Utterly charmed, the staff savored the refined taste of Jeanette’s luxurious soup. Pleased, Carol saw the obvious delight in her face. She’s been left in others’ shadow in so many ways, occurred to Carol, and as she thought of it, she made a mental note never again to overlook her quiet yet invaluable contribution to d’Air’s inner team.              

“I guess it’s my turn now,” Carol addressed the staff, “for the next two dishes are more or less my creation.” She glanced at Therese lovingly. “Although I have to say my right hand, my accomplice extraordinaire, Therese, has taught me what a little foam can do…”

Dannie was grinning from one ear to another. “Chef Aird, if I may be so bold… I think Therese is the Girl Wonder to your Batwoman!” The whole dining room was roaring with laughter in no time. Biting her upper lip, Carol turned her head slowly from one side to another. She was trying her best not to laugh out loud but when she saw Therese giggling along with the rest she had to give in.

“How very perceptive, dear Dannie,” Carol grinned unabashedly, “your way with the words is just as unparalleled as your way with the wines… and you’ll be up here doing your bit shortly!” Not quite knowing how to take Carol’s playful stab, Dannie looked confused for a while before melting into an adorable smile.    

“Scallops with Cauliflower Couscous is the first main course of the menu,” Carol continued when the laughter had died down, “It is a rather simple dish consisting of two distinct elements yet the execution, the way we treat them, is what makes them stand out.” The new set of elegantly filled plates had been carried to the room. Although the dish seemed somehow very simple it was far from it. Two perfectly braised scallops rested in a gentle pool of vanilla oil and hazelnut foam. “The scallops when ready are being basted with beurre monté, the melted yet emulsified butter,” Carol described.

The scallops tasted wickedly luscious still retaining some of their indelible bite. They were cooked to perfection, and Carol knew it. She saw Therese looking at her, and the way she did took her breath away. To feel loved, to be so absolutely convinced of her beloved’s affection was almost more than Carol could bear yet she knew she had never been so ready for it in her entire life. It was Therese who lit up the test kitchen – she had done so from the very beginning – d’Air, her home with Rindy. No, their home with Rindy, for Therese hadn’t really left after their date even though they hadn’t talked about it.

“The slowly braised, al dente cauliflower gets its seasoning from curry butter,” she explained reluctant to let go of Therese’s gaze, “and it’s only the final texture of it that gives the side its couscous name.”                      

The second main brought a knowing grin on both of their faces. To include it in the menu had been Therese’s idea to begin with – Braised Calf’s Liver with Shallot Gravy and Purée of Potatoes. Never had Carol seen a gathering of people this size fall so silent as it did while digging into her rapture inducing tour de force.

Genevieve took over for the dessert part of “the dress rehearsal”. The Pine extravaganza had been aptly renamed Spring, and it was followed by the Rhubarb Galette. “Do you intend to introduce the rose petals at some point?” Therese whispered to Carol as they were standing on the sidelines.

Carol looked at her tenderly. “I could never do that, darling,” she confessed, “After all, that bush is only for you.” Therese rolled her eyes at her but she was very pleased all the same.

When Dannie was introducing the wine pairings for the tasting menu, Carol and Therese sat in the front row. He paced the room holding a glass in his hand explaining why the particular grapes and vintages had been chosen for the particular dishes. Listening to Dannie sharing his vast knowledge, Carol suddenly felt Therese’s hand caressing the nape of her neck absentmindedly.

“Ahem… darling,” she whispered fearing that most of the restaurant staff had already seen what Therese had unknowingly done, “your hand…”

Slowly Therese turned to look at her. “What about it, babe?” Her hand remained firmly at its place. “As if they don’t know it already…” She winked at Carol and leaned in to kiss her lightly on the lips.

Chef Aird, the clueless Batwoman, Carol thought breathing a long sigh of relief.           

Chapter Text

Carol woke up very early Friday morning, ridiculously early. She hadn’t really been able to sleep properly her mind racing with excitement and nervous anticipation. Therese was still sound asleep, and Carol had no intention of waking her up either. There was really nothing to be anxious about, she knew, watching Therese’s silent, serene ignorance of the world yawning softly at the threshold of a new day. Everything that could be done ahead had been executed perfectly.

Yet there she still lay in bed unable to sleep, remnants of restless slumber pricking her eyes, making everything in the room appear far too soft and blurry. She got up slowly fearing her movements might interfere with her beloved’s dreams.

Carol turned the shower on hoping it would yank her out of her torpor – one that makes your limbs ache yet leaves your other faculties strangely stimulated. As she got out and returned to the boudoir she cast another look at Therese hugging her pillow. For a while she contemplated crawling back between the sheets and inhaling the scent of her sweet oblivion, but there was so much she needed to do today.

Having dressed up, Carol left a note on the nightstand should Therese wake up before she was back. The early morning air was crisp yet it held a promise of a perfect spring day. She got into her car and turned it into an opposite direction than most of the mornings. There was one place Carol needed to visit before everything else, before the events of the day started to unfold at their own unstoppable speed. She needed to visit her mother.

Carol parked her Tesla near the entrance of the cemetery and got out. The sound of her steps on the gravel marked her path all the way to a granite headstone on a well-tended lawn.

 In Loving Memory of

Margaret Eleanor Ross

Wife and Mother

1955-2008

If winter comes, can spring be far behind?

I never knew what to say to you, Carol mused, and now that you are dead I still don’t. She shuddered remembering her mother’s tone of voice, cold and calculating, always scanning her for imperfections and greedily pointing them out.

Her mother had died of stomach cancer, a painful death if there ever was one. All those artificially sweetened or otherwise manipulated diet foods sprinkled along decades of self-denial, Carol scoffed remembering. Even then you weren’t nice as if it were somehow our fault you got sick. Suddenly she wished Therese had been there with her, even just for her to kiss her in front of her mother, if not for anything else.

You died and spring came, it made its way into my life slowly but it is finally here, Carol thought clutching her bag in her hands. She could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes but she pushed them back. I have never cried in front of my mother and I have no intention starting now.

“Still an early riser, Carol?” Carol was startled to hear a familiar voice right behind her. She could recognize it anywhere.

“Eileen… you’re here,” she said overwhelmed by sudden happiness in seeing her sister moving next to her.

“Of course, thanks for the invite,” Eileen said smiling warmly, “I wouldn’t miss your opening for the world.” Tilting her head slightly on the right the same way Carol sometimes did, she gave the headstone a critical look. “She was a real bitch, wasn’t she?” Eileen sounded almost giddy.

“God, yes!” Carol laughed relieved to hear she shared the sentiment. “An impossible person to live with,” she continued passionately, “I don’t know how father did it but then again he was never home, was he?”

“I heard her telling Penelope once she shouldn’t smile so much because it causes wrinkling,” Eileen chuckled, “and Pen was only like five years old at the time.” She shook her head recalling the incident so typical of their mother.

“Are you all here? Pen, Alex – and Robert?” Carol asked apprehensively. It had been such a long time they’d been in touch she was afraid to assume anything at all.

“I’m here with Pen and Alex…” Eileen explained, “Robert’s moved out, we’re getting a divorce.” She mentioned it quite matter-of-factly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, darling,” Carol started touching Eileen’s hand shyly.

“Don’t be,” she replied, “To be honest I’m relieved, I’ve known for many years now it would come to this. His having an affair didn’t really affect me one way or another, and I took it as a sign to finally move on.” Eileen grabbed Carol’s hand with both of hers. Her face radiated both warmth and calm determination. “How’s Rindy… and Harge? Do you have anyone special in your life? You look very fine, dear sister.”

Carol blushed slightly. “Rindy’s doing brilliantly, you’ll see her tonight… Harge will be there as well,” she started, “and yes, there is a new love in my life.” The blush deepened noticeably.

“What’s his name?” Eileen asked raising her eyebrows curiously.

“Her name is Therese. We run the restaurant together.” Carol stared at Eileen trying to read her first reaction. It was nothing short of lovely.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” she grinned, “You always had a thing for field hockey and soft ball… pretty much all those sports where you girls got all touchy-feely…” Eileen tried hard not to laugh out loud.

“Eileen!” Carol exclaimed surprised. They had never known closeness yet there it was right now in the cemetery. How very appropriate it should finally bloom in front of the cold stone marking their mother who had done her best to keep them apart. “You’ll meet her tonight,” Carol said softly, “I’m sure you’ll love her.”

Carol got back home just in time to find Therese still in bed. She was awake, though, but the way her sleep still clung to the corners of her eyes told Carol she wasn’t ready to leave her comfy nest just yet. “You look so cute I could eat you up,” Carol murmured sitting right next to her on the bed. “Promises, promises…” Therese yawned contentedly. 

Unfortunately there was no time for it at the moment. Carol had made an appointment with Jeanette to go to the green market, and she had barely time for a cup of coffee. Rindy was having her cereal in the kitchen as they descended the stairs together.

“Morning, sweet pea,” Carol greeted her tenderly, “Do you have everything set for today… and for tonight?” She wished she could have made her daughter a decent breakfast instead of the uninspired flakes she was munching on at the moment.

Therese gave Rindy’s shoulders a playful squeeze. “Hey, champ,” she quipped lightheartedly. Ever since the baseball bat incident Therese had referred to Rindy as champ.

“Morning, guys,” Rindy mumbled between her mouthfuls, “Everything’s fine, Dad’s gonna pick me up after school and then we’ll meet you at the restaurant at 8.” She appeared nonchalant about all of it but Carol knew her daughter was excited as well. She’d caught her talking to Therese about it the other night. Rindy was looking forward to their big night with the fierce commitment only an enthusiastic teen can have, and it brought Carol such joy. She had even prepared a small surprise for her menu – a little knowing, motherly wink.

“I promised I’d accompany Phil to the Fulton Fish Market so I should probably also be on my way… gosh, right about now!” Therese said realizing the time.

“Oh… okay…” Carol said surprised by the turn of events. She knew she was being foolish about the Semcos but she couldn’t help it. The idea of Therese bumping into Richard this very morning was troubling to her to say the least yet there was nothing she could do about it. “See you in the kitchen… then!” she shouted after Therese who hurried out of the door after a quick peck on her cheek.

The place was abuzz yet marvelously organized and controlled as well. To see d’Air this pumped up with excitement, creative energy and commitment left Carol speechless for a second. She took a moment to drink it all in – the wait staff preparing the tables with freshly laundered, exquisitely pressed cloths, setting clean plates and napkins on them, polishing the silverware, examining rows of glasses of different shapes and sizes for perfect clarity.

She let her eyes linger on the radiance of the abundance of cut flowers behind the desk belonging to the maître d’, on the charming effect how they were multiplied by their reflection in the large antique mirror right behind them.

Jeanette had already taken their green market groceries for the stagers. Phil and Therese had not returned yet, Carol noticed, but she pushed all her uneasy feelings aside for now. She savored the sight in front of her and at the same time she was stunned she had actually managed to pull all this through. Whatever happens after tonight, we have at least had tonight, Carol mused. So much depends on luck in this business, she knew, for a mere human error can ruin everything.

She found absolutely nothing to complain about either the bar or the dining room. Sheer perfection, she thought walking towards the kitchen.

“HOT BEHIND!” Jeanette shouted carrying a pot filled with simmering broth as Carol entered the kitchen area. The warning was needed even though d’Air’s kitchen was hardly small by any standards. With all the stagers present it was getting cramped all the same. And the noise level was deafening as well. The work being performed was one thing but Carol also knew how very heated the chefs’ parlance could get at stressful times. She herself was by no means a stranger to it either. Abby had complained about her seriously foul mouth many a time, and she wasn’t one to be squeamish for nothing.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE… you need to use the robocop first, got it?” Tommy shouted at a stager who tried to cut corners while getting her mise done. Startled, the young woman nearly dropped her bowl.

“What’s your name, dear?” Carol asked interfering with the potentially volatile situation.

“Beth,” the young woman said meekly her voice rising towards the end as if what she had just said was a question.

“Well… Beth… you need to use both the fucking robocop and the china-cap, in this order,” chef Carol pointed out emphatically. “You listen to chef Tucker so he won’t have to fire your sorry ass, okay?” The smile she bestowed on Tommy was subtle yet enough to make her chef rotisseur beam victoriously.

“It’s getting hectic in here,” Abby chuckled as Carol stepped into the office. She was sporting a spiffy outfit suitable for a somewhat butch maître d’.

“It sure is,” Carol admitted placing her hand on her shoulder. “Everything alright with you, darling?” she asked winking her eye at her friend.

“Very much so,” Abby replied her face lighting up, “Thank you…” She looked truly grateful.

“You’re welcome, darling,” Carol said warmly, “It was something we felt we had to do, a leap of faith, really.” She looked over Abby’s shoulder to peek on the screen. “Anything unexpected for tonight?”

“Not really. The Brazilian bombshell just emailed and said she’ll be arriving with a new friend… an up-and-coming screenwriter I think we both know…” Abby was grinning shamelessly.

“Oh my god, really?” Carol exclaimed reading the name on the screen. “Well, that should be interesting… a doctor and a screenwriter – a cure and a telling narrative,” she giggled amusedly.

“I haven’t yet heard anything from the food critic though,” Abby worried. “I wonder if he or she is coming at all…”

“You should know better than that,” Carol interrupted, “They never let us on if or when they are coming but there’s been such a buzz about d’Air lately – thanks to you, darling – that I’m almost positive we’ll have the critic amongst us tonight.” The thought didn’t appeal to Carol at all but somehow she wished to have it over and done with as soon as possible. After all what was the point of waiting for the final judgment? To have it printed on New York Times was the quintessential making or breaking of d’Air, she was well aware of it, and a part of her just hoped she wouldn’t have to wait too long for it. Come what may, she thought, we are ready. Make it swift, I am almost ready to pay the executioner if need be.

When the clock struck 7 PM the doors were opened. Tomorrow they would open for brunch as well but tonight – the opening night – was different. They might seat walk-ins in the bar room just like they would any other day from now on, but still, tonight was mainly about the tasting menu, menu dégustation.

Therese had returned from her morning fish market tour unscathed, and seeing her in such good spirits, Carol had felt no need to ask her anything about it. Why did I worry about it in the first place, she asked herself, why would her chance encounter with her ex be in any way meaningful at all? Truth to be told, she couldn’t really answer her own questions.

Abby was standing behind her desk near the entrance. Flirting with Maddie who was enjoying a rare free moment, she was obviously having a fabulous time. The atmosphere was calm, expecting, the staff members more or less holding their breath, waiting for the door to open for the first time.

Then it happened, just as unassumingly as it usually does with unknown people entering any room. Guests having a curious look around, taking the few needed steps to be greeted by the maître d’, exchanging pleasantries – Haynes, party of four – handing their overcoats, hats and whatnot to the coat check, being ushered into the dining room.

Her heart beating fast, Carol witnessed the first guests arriving. “Okay, guys – SHOW TIME,” she announced to the kitchen staff, “the first customers are here.” Dannie sprang up on his feet ready to perform his sommelier duty. He looked sharp in his dark suit his jet-black hair combed rigorously back. “Go ahead, Dannie boy, work your magic,” Carol quipped smiling encouragingly at his protégée.

More people appeared, blocked the doorway for an agonizing second before the wait staff snapped out of their momentary paralysis. Dining room was steadily filling up as everyone was being seated.

“FIRE! 12 Margarita, 4 amuse, 4 olive,” Therese instructed the chefs. “Dying on the pass here!” she shouted at the waiters motioning towards the dishes she’d already approved. “Go, go, go!” The ready plates were whisked away before she had time to finish her eager plea.

Abby peeked into the kitchen. “Wax table 9,” she hollered at Carol. “4-Top, Semco… they brought you a really nice gift, Carol.” Winking at her, Abby disappeared again. Carol took a quick look at the dining room and there they were – the Semco seafood family sitting at a corner table. Boris, Ludmila, Sarah – and Richard. Christ, I’ll have to go and say hi to them at some point…  

“WHO THE FUCK REMOVED MY PAN FROM THE BURNER?” Phil cried out eyeing furiously everyone around him. “I NEED MY FUCKING BURNER AND NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO TOUCH IT.” Not surprisingly, no one came forward.

Okay… I’m going to take a little breather, Carol thought stepping outside for just a minute. Therese seemed to have the tricky situation under control any way.

“I wonder if we’re going to have to fire the Finnish bartender.” Abby was standing right outside the kitchen.

“Why? She mixes a mean Sidecar and then some,” Carol complimented glancing at the bar counter.

“It’s the then some that bothers me,” Abby chuckled, “the amount of time she spends cupcaking is staggering…”

“The pot calling the kettle black?” Carol smirked. “I seem to remember you being a real life lothario not so long time ago…” She doubted if she would ever forget the revealing confrontation at Abby’s apartment.

Their amused banter was interrupted by the arrival of the guest Carol had most fervently looked forward to. “Rindy!” she exclaimed running to meet her with open arms. “Oh baby, I’ve missed you!” She hugged her tightly.

“Mom…” Rindy started, “This is embarrassing… everyone’s looking.” Somehow she didn’t sound that displeased, though.

“You know what, sweet pea? I don’t give a damn!” Carol chuckled slowly turning her attention to others in their proximity. “Eileen! Pen and Alex… look at you, all grown-up… hello, Harge,” she said hugging her sister and her children affectionately.

“Hello, Carol,” Harge replied nodding gravely. “Abigail…” he added noticing her right behind Carol. “Seems like a fine establishment you have here,” Harge continued, “let’s just hope the food is up to par.” Rolling her eyes at her sister and Abby, Carol thought better not to say anything.

“12 scallop, 8 olive, 4 Margarita, 4 Soup…” The orders were pouring in keeping everyone busy, at their toes. Therese supervised each plate leaving the kitchen wiping its sides clean if necessary, adding something extra if needed. A couple of times she stopped a waiter, already on her way out, just to make sure everything was impeccable. “Take it away!”

Carol was finishing the calf’s liver main when Therese came by. “You okay, babe?” she asked putting her arm around her waist.

“Yeah… busy, though,” Carol laughed a bit nervously. She was still rattled by the Semcos.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Therese asked noticing her discomfort right away. Genevieve’s sudden appearance interrupted their moment.

“Therese, Richard’s asking for you,” Genevieve informed, “Table 9.” Having delivered the message, she rushed over to her own station.

“Fuck!” Carol exclaimed pushing the pan away from the burner, “I overcooked the damn liver, it’s ruined…” Putting her hands on her hips, she took a deep breath and stared at the sorry sight in front of her.

“Is this about Richard?” Therese asked genuinely surprised. “Babe… Are you being jealous?” She couldn’t quite hide the amusement in her voice. Unwilling to utter a single syllable, Carol just gritted her teeth. “Oh baby… you are jealous…” Therese realized to her sheer amazement, “I know what we’ll do… Tommy! Can you take over? We’re one liver short.” She grabbed Carol’s hand and started dragging her towards the dining room. Before Carol had a chance to object they were already standing next to the Semcos.

“Hey, Terry! The food’s amazing…” Richard was grinning from one ear to another. His parents and sister greeted Therese warmly as well, it was evident they’d met her at several occasions.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” Therese thanked, “Have you found everything else satisfactory as well?” Carol felt uneasy. What the hell am I doing here? I feel like a fool.

“What a wonderful restaurant, chef Aird,” Boris Semco complimented, “and I do hope you’ll consider renewing your contract with us. It would be a great honor.” Fumbling for words, Carol just nodded hastily. “And Therese, what a lucky break this has been for you,” Mr. Semco continued, “to attain such an important position at your young age…”

Boris Semco went on and on singing Therese’s praises. As if I don’t know all that already, Carol thought bored. She kept shifting her weight nervously from one foot to another.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for you to open your own place…” he mused, “Judging by your meteoric rise to the top class of the culinary world, it is only a matter of time… although I’m sure your cooperation with your mentor must be most rewarding.” Carol’s stomach flipped.

Slightly amused, Therese took a long look at Boris Semco. “Yes… most rewarding,” she started slowly, “but as far as opening a restaurant is concerned, this is it.” Therese drew a quick breath and glanced at Carol. “You see, she’s not just my mentor, she’s also my fiancée.”

Yes I am! Carol squeezed her hand barely able to contain herself. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she wished the dumbfounded Semco family before returning to the kitchen.

“SHE IS HERE, SHE IS HERE!” Maddie ran into the kitchen her cheeks flushed of excitement.

“Who is here?” Carol wanted to know helping Genevieve with the Spring desserts. Oh, it’s spring alright…

“THE FOOD CRITIC!!!” Everyone capable of leaving his station rushed to the doorway to catch a glimpse of the feared battle-axe whose crushing reviews had ruined many hopeful culinary ventures.

“Is that her?” Phil asked not believing his eyes. “I have a hard time believing she eats anything at all…” The frail, old woman seated at the chef’s table did look inconspicuous indeed – and bored.

“VIP AT CHEF’S TABLE!” Therese shouted at everyone present. “GIVE IT YOUR BEST SHOT NOW!” Therese herself was the calm in the eye of the storm, Carol admired, remembering her words in reference to moments like this.

 “Whatever my fingers will touch, I promise it will turn out perfect.”

Yes, it does and it always will.  

Dannie returned to the kitchen. He was pale as a sheet. “She’s a tough nut to crack but I think I did okay…” he stammered sitting down for a second.

Everything was running smoothly. Eavesdropping, Carol tried to make sense out of the conversation the revered lady was having with Maddie who had taken it up to herself to wait on her personally. “Absolutely,” Maddie agreed softly whenever the woman wanted to present an additional request or wish. “Absolutely.”

Mesmerized, Carol looked at the whole scene opening up right before her – a scene so vibrant and colorful it could have been a living painting celebrating life and hedonism. The noise of the kitchen no longer ringing in her ears Carol’s senses were tuned into a different frequency altogether. She saw the smiles on people’s faces, the fingers draped around the stem of a glass, the knives and forks in midair, and all around them the graceful waiters in one steady movement as if they weren’t individuals at all but subtle, silent links in an invisible chain.

“The Wicked Witch of the West wants to see you!” Abby whispered to Carol enthusiastically. The opening night was way past its prime and many of the first patrons had already bid their fond farewells.

“Who..? Oh, the food critic! Okay…” Closing her eyes for a second, Carol gathered up her nerve and made her way to the chef’s table. The petite woman looked ready to leave.

“Chef Aird… I wanted to thank you personally,” she said politely. Carol couldn’t tell if she was pleased or not – she couldn’t detect any emotion at all on the woman’s face. “It’s been interesting,” she continued picking up her bag. “My cab is waiting. Good night.”

Stunned, Carol stared at the retreating figure until it vanished completely out of sight. “WELL, FUCK YOU TOO,” she exclaimed not caring if anyone heard her or not.

“MOM!” Carol cringed realizing who were still sitting at the table. Rindy had a disapproving look on her face. She’s inherited that from Harge.

“I’m sorry, sweet pea, Mommy’s been under a lot of stress lately…” Pen and Alex were giggling at aunt Carol. “Have you enjoyed your meal?” she asked Eileen and Harge.

“Everything’s been fabulous,” Eileen beamed at Carol. “I’ve enjoyed every bite and I believe we still have some rhubarb to look forward to?”

“Simply wonderful, Carol,” Harge admitted, “I’ll have to hand it to you, those cooking classes did you a world of good.”

“Why, thank you, Harge,” Carol replied, “They made all the difference in the world.” Since she wasn’t particularly interested in continuing this conversation, Carol turned to talk to the kids. “Hey, what’ll you say for a special dessert treat for just you guys? I know Rindy hates rhubarb so I asked our pastry chef to dazzle her…”

As she was still speaking, Therese and Genevieve stepped in carrying three plates, one for each kid. “What’s this?” Rindy asked curiously and a bit suspiciously as well.

“Since we know how much you love your morning cornflakes, we decided to give you evening cornflakes as well,” Therese smiled.

“Doesn’t look like cornflakes to me,” Rindy mumbled inspecting her plate. It had an ivory rectangle and a brown triangle on a bed of light green mousse. All of it was topped with beige sprinkles.

“We made a cereal milk custard out of your favorite cornflakes,” Genevieve explained, “and turned it into this.” She pointed at the rectangle. “Taste it, I think you’ll like it.”

“The brown… thing… is made of chocolate and praline paste,” Therese said, “and the green is… ahem, something really yummy and refreshing to compliment the other two.” Don’t tell her it’s avocado, she remembered Carol warning her earlier. “And those sprinkles on top are caramelized cornflakes!” The kids, even Rindy, loved all of it.

“Good night,” Abby said kissing both Carol and Therese on the cheek. Maddie was waiting by the front door. “It’s been an amazing day.” Although tired, she was beaming.

The first of many, Carol thought turning off the lights.

Chapter Text

“Darling,” Carol started the morning after d’Air’s opening night, “I need you to jog my memory… I’m just hoping this isn’t some form of early dementia or Alzheimer’s…” They were still in bed.

Suddenly curious, Therese propped herself on one elbow. “What is it, babe? Is something wrong?”

“Probably not…” Carol replied pensively, “I just don’t remember you getting down on one knee and popping the question.” Her former, puzzled look melted into a deliciously devious smile. “I’m sure I’d remember that.”

“Oh…” Therese said her face reddening just a tad. “I guess I kinda did blurt it out last night…”

“I guess you kinda did…” Carol acknowledged sweetly clearly enjoying Therese’s momentary embarrassment. “I don’t mind you being determined, taking charge and all, but darling, there are still some things we must decide together… well, at least ask me first!” Her voice was both tender and terribly amused.    

“I did ask Rindy, though,” Therese admitted.

“You did what?!?” Carol gasped, “That’s not even remotely funny.”

“I’m not kidding, I did ask her. I asked how she would feel if we were to be married at some point… like a hypothetical question,” Therese explained further.

“And how did she take your… hypothetical question?” Carol drew a quick breath that didn’t exactly help.

“Oh, she was all for it,” Therese grinned, “She’d just been thinking of doing a school paper on gay marriage, and according to her, we’d provide excellent source material for her case study.”

“Case study, huh?” Carol huffed. “So we’d get married because of her school paper…”

“Of course not, silly,” Therese laughed, “Rindy was very happy to hear that we were thinking about it.”

“So are we… thinking about it ?” Carol asked apprehensively. She felt flustered with this new information not to mention her own conflicting feelings.

“Well, I don’t know about you but I certainly am,” Therese replied looking at her intently. “I know it’s very early to be thinking about it… we’re not even living together yet… well, not officially anyway,” she chuckled self-consciously, “but I have thought about it – as something that I’d like to happen sooner or later.” She cleared her throat. “If you’re open to the idea, that is…”

It was way too early to think of marriage, and Carol was ready to point it out as well. She hadn’t thought of it herself but then again she had nothing against it in principle. There had been times after her divorce when she’d sworn never to get married again but now, with Therese, it suddenly seemed like a viable option once more. Something she’d in fact like very much – at some point.

“If I’m ever going to tie the knot, it will be with you, babe.” Therese added growing restless due to Carol’s continuing silence.

“Ahem…” Carol stammered, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I am somewhat older than you…”

“You’re fifteen years older than me, I know that.” Therese’s expression remained just as serious as before. Her easy acknowledgement of their age difference made Carol squirm a bit, though.

“It’s something you should consider, darling,” Carol started, “it may not seem like much now but you may think otherwise in the future… like when you are, say, fifty and I’m… older.”

Carol’s reluctance to do the math brought a wide smile on Therese’s face. “Is there a point in all this what you’re saying?” she inquired feigning total ignorance as far as Carol’s uneasiness was concerned. “I like older women,” she admitted. Seeing Carol’s eyebrows jump up, she hastened to continue. “But of course if the problem is that you prefer young women, then my being fifty might prove a problem.” She couldn’t keep her poker face any longer. “It will become a problem because I am so not willing to share…” she giggled as Carol lunged towards to tickle her.              

“I promise…” Therese managed to laugh, “to keep you active…” while trying to fend Carol’s hands off, “at your ripe old age!” She grabbed her wrists and pulled her on top of her. “Come here, you wonderful, sexy… old lady !”

Carol enjoyed the following week immensely. To see d’Air in full swing and operating smoothly like a well-oiled machine was more than she could’ve hoped for. There had been nothing on d’Air in the papers so far but then again it was early, Carol knew it very well. It took at least a week to get the first review, usually even longer.

The patrons seemed very happy, though, if anything could be deduced from that. Carol had talked to a number of grateful customers complimenting the tasting menu in detail. The bar room was flourishing as well. There was a steady stream of walk-ins each night with a line forming at the bar counter waiting for the next available table.

“The Finnish bartender gave her notice this morning,” Abby informed Carol on Thursday. After a troubling start, she seemed rather sorry to see her go.

“Already?” Carol asked surprised. “It’s been less than a week and she’s leaving… why?”

“Apparently she got a better job offer in L.A.” Abby explained scratching her temple. “Says she hates the New York winters and wants to emigrate to a warmer climate…”  

“Hates winter? But she’s a Finn… winter’s their… thing,” Carol commented seriously confused.

“Why do you think she left Finland in the first place?” Abby scoffed flicking through her notes. She had to find a new one as soon as humanly possible.

“I bet Genevieve’s sorry to see her go…” Carol wondered glancing at Abby who suddenly found her remark utterly humorous.

“She suggested her they have a long distance relationship because she likes New York and needs a place to crash while here.” Abby was rolling her eyes at the mere thought.

“The nerve of some people!” Carol exclaimed. “Genevieve must’ve told her off in no uncertain terms, right?” Abby was trying her best not to laugh. “Oh c’mon…” Carol started stupefied.

“She’s thinking about it,” Abby confirmed her grin getting the better of her.

“I need to have a talk with that girl…” Carol mumbled still stunned by such arrogance.  

The end of the week at hand, Carol grew more and more agitated over the prospect of the restaurant review appearing in the weekend edition of the New York Times. She tried to put it out of her mind but to no avail. She was grumpier than ever in the kitchen, and it couldn’t help but affect the rest of the staff as well.

“Do you think the critic liked the food?” Jeanette whispered to Dannie while they were eating their staff lunch on Friday.

“How the hell would I know?” Dannie scoffed. “I took care of her wine menu, and that was plenty… ask Maddie, she served the dishes after all.” Both of them kept eyeing chef Aird who had been a veritable pain in everybody’s ass the entire day.

Therese had been silently observing the situation, and she didn’t appreciate what she saw. “Babe…” she started cautiously, “You are driving everybody nuts with your erratic behavior.” She placed her hands on Carol’s shoulders and did her best to catch her full attention. “YOU. NEED. TO. CHILL.”

Closing her eyes, Carol took her time to inhale. “I know…” she admitted releasing the air out of her lungs, “I just hate this waiting… this feeling of not knowing.”

Therese let her hands slide down on Carol’s waist. Fastening her hold, she pulled her close and pressed her forehead against hers. “I know, babe,” she whispered softly, “but we have no choice but to wait, and in the meantime, we have to be civil, you know that.” Her tender statement was also a firm request Carol found quite reasonable.    

When the day was done, Abby put her foot down. “You two are going to have tomorrow off,” she declared in a tone of voice that fended off all objections. “We are fully staffed, thank you, and we can manage a day without you.” Carol opened her mouth to protest but before she could get a single word out Therese grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the entrance.

“Thanks, Abby, we appreciate it,” Therese shouted as she pushed Carol out of the door and on to the street.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Carol complained opening the car door. “We’ve only just opened and we’re definitely needed!”

“This was a carefully planned intervention,” Therese answered wryly, “and for once you have no say in it so get in the car and put a lid on it!” She winked her eye at Carol who couldn’t think of a quick comeback to such a brazen stubbornness. Et tu, Brute…

Carol remained in bed when Therese got up to prepare their Saturday morning brunch. Her kiss still fresh on her lips she lay still on her back, refreshed and happy. She thought about the lecture where she’d seen Therese for the first time, and she remembered how she had looked standing behind the door of the test kitchen. Was it really only three months ago? Carol wondered. There are no accidents, and nothing is coincidental, occurred to her. All this was meant to happen right now.

Carol had no idea just how accurate her conclusion was, how a year ago when she’d stood in line in the post office to buy a padded envelope for her niece’s gift, she’d suddenly remembered she’d left her purse on the passenger seat. She’d not only lost her place in the line but also missed the opportunity to catch a glimpse of the brown-haired woman just finishing her business at the counter. Had Carol remained in her place, they’re eyes would’ve surely met. Or the time when she’d had a leisurely stroll at Central Park and contemplated whether to head towards the Boathouse or not. She had taken a turn to left instead and thus unknowingly avoided bumping into Therese who’d been heading towards her down the dirt path.

Timing is everything, but it needs to stem from within, from the knowledge garnered and methods adopted, from trial and error, Carol mused. She didn’t need to time a steak when she seared it on the pan. She knew when it was just right, slightly charred on top, perfectly pink in the middle its delicious juices still in tact. She didn’t call it instinct for instinct had nothing to do with it – she had learned it just as she had learned about life. She’d seen so many students stumble over the simplest of dishes during her turn at teaching at the Culinary Institute many years ago. How uncertain they’d been about their creations, how insecure and fumbling, dependent on her appraisal and criticism almost up to a point where they’d lost the basics of their own vision.

Years ago Carol had seen a film she would’ve most likely forgotten if it weren’t for one line that had stuck to her mind.

Abnormal pleasures kill the taste for normal ones.

Taste. Carol had developed one yet it had changed over the years. She had acquired a taste for certain things like everyone does, preferring one thing to another. Yet hers was a remarkable range. As far as tasting was concerned, she was among the most unprejudiced. She found pleasure in things other people shied away from. It’s no wonder why many people defend their extraordinary preferences by claiming them to be acquired tastes, she thought. To call something unsavory or outright disgusting is to condemn the person having a taste for them.

Although Anaîs Nin’s quote dealt with physical experiences lacking the joys of love, it spoke volumes to Carol as a fledgling chef, as someone who wanted to show there was no such thing as an abnormal taste. And to cherish something out of the ordinary didn’t have to mean abandoning the cozy, comforting and familiar of the culinary realm. After all, don’t we all contain multitudes anyway?  

We are born with a preference to sweet and an aversion to sour and bitter, Carol had learned. After a few months we acquire a taste for salt, we start to crave for it. It never leaves us, the need for it to spice up our life, to give it the full wonder and meaning. Salt is the key to open up our taste buds, to preserve and build up everything we find worthwhile. Without salt everything would taste flat, even the sweet.

What is an acquired taste, Carol had asked in her book. It is a process of personal maturation, for sure; how a cup of coffee is first doused with milk and sugar to hide its strong, bitter flavor, and then, as time goes by, gradually stripped down to its essence. She herself had developed a taste for Dry Martinis, the pure pungency of gin requiring several brave try-outs before she had felt comfortable with it. Now she relished its sharp, overwhelmingly distinct flavor. The pure taste.

Finally ready to abandon the warmth of her bed, Carol swung her legs on the floor and put on her robe. She smiled remembering Rindy’s school paper, the conversation it was likely to stir in her class. Neophobia, the fear of everything unfamiliar and new, affects the best of us, be it food, sexuality or other people, she thought appreciating her daughter even more. Yet we don’t have to feel especially adventurous about getting over our fear of the unknown – exposure is all we need. To develop an affinity for a certain food one has formerly disliked may occur only after numerous attempts but it will happen eventually if one retains an open mind.

Sipping her latte, Carol looked at Therese preparing a snack for Rindy who was expected back from her father’s any minute now. She was spoiling Rindy rotten, and Carol didn’t mind it at all. She watched as Therese filled a brioche bun she had baked herself with a perfectly cooked, ground buffalo patty, adding underneath slices of tomato and tart apple, the latter sautéed in butter and sprinkled with brown sugar. She loved seeing her so focused for Therese never did anything halfheartedly – even the Gruyère cheese had to melt on top of the meat just the right way. To have the love of her life devote her full attention to her daughter’s afternoon meal was everything to Carol. How could I not love you, if I didn’t already, occurred to her suddenly.

Carol thought about the morning, when they’d first woken up and gazed their good mornings right into each other’s eyes. How nothing had needed to be said at all. How they’d picked up where they’d left their lovemaking only hours ago. A flavor experience starts with the remembrance of a past event activating the dopamine in our brains, Carol mused. We begin to crave for the sensation once more, and our mouths water. Then comes the sensory overture, the way in which the colors, shapes and aromas are being perceived – the vibrant green diluting to dreamy darkness, the round softness enveloping all that is alive in me, the fragrant scent of her desire so easily awakened anew. The first mouth feel, the sound it makes, the sound it induces – the sweet, the salty, even the sour and the bitter, and – finally – the umami of her. All the sensations merging to create a taste, a flavor so irresistible, I will long for it again and again, she knew smiling at Therese secretively.

“Hey, Mom! Hey, Therese!” Rindy stormed in breaking the languid atmosphere once and for all. “Is that for me? I need food…” she sat down at the counter and started gobbling down the burger to Therese’s evident pleasure. “Picked up the paper… figured you guys have probably been doing the dirty all morning and ignored it altogether…” her words were muffled by the disappearing bun in her mouth.

“Rindy!” Carol exclaimed but Therese couldn’t help but laugh. She took the paper and spread it across the counter. She flicked through different sections before stopping abruptly. Everything about her froze in the same instant.

“What is it?” Carol asked nervously. “Has someone died?”

“No…” Therese gulped, “It’s the review…”

Carol felt woozy all blood escaping from her brain for a second. Her ears ringing, she had to lean onto the counter to maintain her balance. “What does it say…” she mumbled with difficulty. She avoided looking at Therese afraid her expression would give away the real content of the review. Instead she bowed her head and stared at the floor. It must be bad news since no one has called, flashed through Carol’s mind, even Abby hasn’t dared to get in touch…

Therese swallowed before reading:

Truth or d’Air?

I’ve heard mentioned that the age-old game of truth or dare is fun only when all the people involved in it are comfortable with each other. The same could be said about d’Air, chef Carol Aird’s newly opened restaurant on the East 20^th Street, between Park Avenue South and Broadway. Rarely have I witnessed such a seamless cooperation between the kitchen and the wait staff, the sheer exuberance the establishment exudes is, to put it mildly, wonderfully contagious.

All of this would, of course, be meaningless if the food itself were uninspired and dull. Chef Aird’s vision of fine dining, however, tops all expectations one might have entering the elegantly decorated place. Along with her impeccably tuned staff she delivers a feast I’ve rarely had the privilege to enjoy.

So what is the truth of d’Air ? A one so exquisitely multi-layered, it can’t help but impress even the most seasoned of us critics all too willing to reveal the emperor having no clothes whatsoever. I am in awe of chef Aird’s bold transformation of ingredients we may have begun to view as commonplace and therefore lacking of ingenuity. But it takes a great mind to breathe new, unconventional spark into olives and mozzarella to make them measure up to such wild flights of fancy as Marshmallow Carbonara (the unlikely yet utterly enchanting amuse) and Spring (the obvious signature dessert of d’Air)…

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Carol shouted her eyes filling with tears. Overjoyed, Therese flung the paper up in the air and swept her in her arms.

“Babe…” Therese whispered profoundly moved, “You did it, babe…” She looked so happy and relieved Carol’s heart skipped a beat.

“No, darling,” Carol replied affectionately, “We did it – you and me both…” Forcing Rindy to join the group hug, she was elated to find the already perfect Saturday morning turning into an impeccable day.

“But why hasn’t anyone called?” Carol asked baffled. “Abby reads the paper first thing every morning at d’Air…” She went to fetch her cell phone from her handbag. It was turned off.

Therese had picked up hers as well – it was on mute. “I have 38 new text messages…” she said the corners of her mouth curving irresistibly up. “And my voice mail is full.”

When Carol opened hers, it was flooded with congratulations as well. There was only one she really wanted to see.

GOOD GOD, WOMAN!

GET OUT OF THE BED ALREADY AND HAUL YOUR ASSES OVER TO D’AIR ASAP!

DANNIE’S POPPING CHAMPAGNE LIKE THERE’S NO TOMORROW – WE NEED SOMEONE IN THE KITCHEN :)

ABBY

P.S. You did good. I love you.

Smiling, Carol pressed the phone against her chest. The rest of the messages would have to wait. After all, they were expected at d’Air.

A month later

Abby was busy in the office sorting out all the reservations for the coming weeks. “We have a wait list a mile long,” she told Carol who had stopped by for their daily meeting. “Maddie’s help has been invaluable, I honestly don’t know how I would’ve managed without her.”

Listening to her friend talk about Madeleine made Carol’s grin deliciously lopsided. “She’s done you a world of good in other ways as well,” she pointed out. “We dropped by the local the other night and the barkeep was worried if something had happened to you having not seen you in weeks…” Truth to be told, Abby had been a regular in many downtown establishments.

“Well, you know how it is… being domesticated,” Abby smiled deprecatingly not willing to face Carol’s direct gaze. “But I’m loving every minute of it,” she added seriously. “Home cooked meals and everything…” Abby had gained a few pounds but it was very becoming, Carol thought.

“So, is anything special being planned?” she asked Abby as nonchalantly as she possibly could. Carol’s 40^th birthday was coming up in three days after all.      

“Special?” Abby asked surprised. “Do you have some special menu in mind? We only just changed it,” she added.

“Yes, ahem…” Carol was caught off guard by her genuine puzzlement. “Well… I just… oh, never mind, I need to talk to Phil about the monkfish main right away,” she lied trying to hide her embarrassment in her hasty retreat.

“So, darling, what are we going to do next weekend?” Carol was sure Therese would at least remember her big day.

“I’m working on Saturday, don’t you remember?” Therese replied. She sounded tired and unenthusiastic about her current workload. An unexpected flu epidemic had taken a number of their employees out of the equation as far as the shifts were concerned, and Therese had had to step in far too many times to fill in.

“Oh, okay…” Carol acquiesced to, “Well, we’ll have the morning anyway, don’t we?”

“I’m afraid not… I promised Abby I’d pull a double shift because Mark and Angie can’t do brunch this week.” The mere thought made Therese yawn endlessly.

Fine. Carol pressed her lips tightly together and resigned to her fate. The big 4-0, who cares. Obviously no one I know…

Come Friday, Carol was already visibly irritated by everyone’s carefree attitude. If they’re all so bloody indifferent about it, I should probably get out of town and do something nice by myself. Maybe visit Eileen? She tried to call her but got no answer. Her sister didn’t even reply to the message she left for her. What the hell is going on? Carol fumed. She had made damn sure she would have Saturday off already a long time ago, but apparently the reason she needed to have it as a holiday had escaped both Abby and Therese.

On Saturday morning Carol woke up to find neither Therese nor Rindy at home. No note, no nothing. She couldn’t wrap her head around any of it. How the fuck is it even possible that both my fiancée and my daughter forget my birthday? And not just any birthday – CHRIST!!!

Devastated, she sat on a bar stool to digest the shocking reality and feel sorry for herself. Carol had hardly had time to settle on the seat when her cell phone beeped. She didn’t remember having left it on the counter or even switching it on. She picked it up, curious to see whom the message was from.

IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY AND IF CONVENIENT, THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY WOULD BE MUCH APPRECIATED @5PM @260 S 2nd St.  -THERESE  

Reading it, Carol smiled. The phrasing was the same as in the very first text message she’d received from Therese. Well, almost the same.

She typed her answer in the similar fashion:

THANKS. SEE YOU @ 5. -C

Short and sweet like the last time, she thought very pleased with herself. This is a nice surprise, Carol thought, an intimate dinner with Therese at the rese. I knew I could count on her. She felt better already although she was surprised to find no other congratulatory messages in her phone.  

At ten to five Carol stood once more in the corner of the 2^nd and Havemayer Street. She looked for the familiar rainbow color letters but couldn’t find them. Instead she noticed something else, and it made her all warm inside.

CAROL

Her name was written in round white light bulbs on a temporary sign yanked over the entrance.

Suddenly she felt as nervous as a girl going to her first date. Filled with sweet anticipation and impatience, flushed with excitement, she stepped in expecting to see Therese waiting for her.

S U R P R I S E !!!

A crowd numbering a hundred, maybe even more – among them the entire staff of d’Air, Rindy and Eileen with Pen and Alex - burst in joyous applauses and congratulations as soon as they caught the first sight of Carol.  

And there she was, center stage, the dimple-cheeked brunette radiating all that Carol loved about her.

“Happy Birthday, babe,” she murmured in her ear, taking her time to kiss her properly before the festive folks. “You should’ve seen your own face when we all took turns to ignore your desperate attempts to remind us of it.”

Carol smiled self-deprecatingly. How could she have thought they’d forgotten? “I was getting a bit worried there for a second,” she understated enjoying her nearness after all the cold shoulder she’d imagined having over the week.

“Oh, puh-lease,” Abby scoffed, “You were ready to bite our heads off!” Her heartfelt laughter brought in Maddie and Dannie who’d been fixing the buffet table.

“Congratulations, chef Aird!” They exclaimed almost at the same time.  

“It’s Carol, not chef Aird,” she said warmly. “Let’s cut the formalities from now, okay?” she added hugging both of them affectionately. “Now let me see the food, I’m suddenly starving…” She let herself be guided through the kitchen area all the way to the back. An open-air patio was furnished with tables and chairs strewn every here and there, strings of lights hanging overhead like yellow drops of the sun.    

The spread her staff had prepared for tonight was impressive as well. Carol took her time to go through the entire setting – the chile prawns in lime-ginger yoghurt on a bed of shredded kale, the grilled sea bream topped with crabmeat dressing and emulsified lemon vinaigrette, the hot-smoked salmon with apples, cherries and hazelnuts, the grilled skirt steak with both green and red chimichurri, the fingerling potato salad with feta, haricots verts and olives not to mention the grilled pizzas and various burgers catering to all tastes… new dishes kept appearing on the table as Carol marveled the lush interplay of bright colors on the heaping service plates.  

Having exchanged grateful words with as many people as she possibly could for now, Carol sat down at the table reserved for her. When she saw Therese heading towards her with a plate assembled specifically for the birthday girl, she suddenly remembered a conversation she had had with her favorite teacher while still at the cooking school.

“I don’t know what it is that is causing you all the inner turmoil, Carol,” Mrs. Spring had said when they’d been alone, “and you most certainly don’t have to share any of it with me.” Taking off her apron, she had taken her time before continuing. “But I do know you’re not happy.” She had cast a quizzical look at Carol. “You have a tremendous talent, a gift from God some might say, yet many will put you down in this business just because you are a beautiful woman.” Carol had had no idea what to say or what was coming next. “But to give it your all you need to find a peace of mind, a confidence that will feed your creativity,” she had explained.

“Do you know the old phrase ‘let him stew in his own juices’?” she had asked. Carol had nodded knowing it very well. “I think we stew in our juices all our lives,” Mrs. Spring had said wistfully, “we worry and suffer constantly yet I think the saying means also so much more.” She had put a pot on the stove and looked at Carol gently. “If you keep the lid on, the stock will be brought to a mad boil sooner than you think… so keep yours open, always.”

The contents of the pot had steamed gently on the burner. “All through our lives the essence of us simmers on. The aspects of our character sharpen, become edgier each year. And if we’re not careful, the dominating taste, be it bitter, salty or whatever, may take over and dictate the end result.” She had taken a spoonful of hot liquid and let Carol taste it. “Delicious, isn’t it? And still, it’s just the base, a start of something extraordinary.”

Carol took Therese’s hand and pulled her on her lap. The food would have to wait for just a second longer, she thought savoring the moment.

“When your stock has been reduced to its finality, make sure you’re happy with what you’ve got. Make it complex, enchanting, exemplary and a sheer joy to taste.” Smiling, Mrs. Spring had taken Carol’s hand and squeezed it encouragingly.

Carol looked at Therese with such tenderness it was more than enough for the both of them.

“Make it exquisite.”