His Every Desire

Gordon pressed his thumb into the ball of creamy rice, forming a little divot.

"So I take it and form the risotto around a piece of this amazing buffalo mozzarella that I found just a block from here. Then it gets breaded and fried up really quick."

He quickly made five more before dropping them all into a bowl of bread crumbs and tossing them, coating every piece evenly. When that was done, he turned around and dropped each one into the hot fryer.

"For the base," he continued, turning around to pluck down two rectangular appetizer plates, "I whipped up a tomato coulis with garlic, thyme and a couple of other things yesterday."

Mr. Hayes returned with three glasses and a bottle of champagne on ice, and served all three of them. Tracy knew that he was there, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the skilled chef performing in front of her.

Gordon grabbed a small saucepan from the back of the stove and used a large spoon to put a dollop of the smooth, red sauce on the far end of each plate. Then he jerked the end of the spoon through the mound, pulling it into a decorative wisp of crimson. On top of each one, he placed two small beds of micro greens and topped those with the hot, crispy rice balls.

"Then I’m going to top this simply with a sprinkle of some crisped pancetta, a dusting of fresh Parmesan and a sprinkle of chopped parsley for color. And that’s about it."

He wiped his hands on a towel hanging from his waist before setting the plates down in front of the couple. Tracy looked at her plate, almost afraid to destroy his masterpiece. Almost, that is, if it wasn’t for the tantalizing aroma wafting up and accosting her nose.

"Dig in," he politely demanded with a smile. "It’s called arancini."

Tracy grabbed her fork and sank the side of it through the golden-brown sphere. She scooped up a piece, using her knife to sweep up a little bit of everything, and slipped it into her mouth. A sudden burst of flavors, from the sweet tomato to the salty pancetta and all of the other subtle flavors in between, filled Tracy’s senses. She mumbled her approval through the mouthful of food and closed her eyes, allowing the elegant layers of flavor to melt into one on her palate.

When she was finally able to swallow and open her eyes again, she exclaimed, "Holy shit!"

Mr. Hayes looked at her sideways and raised his eyebrows. He was struggling to keep from laughing. "That good?"

Tracy let herself chuckle and fell back against her seat. "Yeah. That is amazing, Gordon. Honestly. I don’t even have words right now."

The battle-hardened chef smiled with genuine happiness and replied, "Thank you very much. That is why I do this."

"She’s right though," Mr. Hayes broke in. He swallowed slowly and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "My compliments. It's amazing."

Gordon tipped his head in acknowledgment, then rubbed his hands together. "Go ahead and eat. I’m going to start on the second course."

Tracy smiled and watched him go back to work with reverent fascination. Of course, that didn’t stop her from shoveling down the rich, cheesy goodness as she did so.

Just as she sucked down the last bite, she felt Mr. Hayes’ hand slip under the hem of her dress and come to rest on her thigh. His hot palm tickled her skin.

Tracy set down her fork and turned to him. "Yes, Mr. Hayes?" she asked.

He smirked and moved his chair closer to her, never once letting go of her supple leg.

"I was just thinking that you look beautiful tonight," he replied.

Tracy took a drink of her champagne, letting the dry bubbles carry away the appetizer’s more subtle flavors. She set the glass back down and turned her body to him just slightly, only enough to tease him.

"Thank you." She winked at him, knowing exactly what he was up to.

His hand tried to inch upward, but Tracy pulled away. She was in control here. It felt, in that moment, like the world and everything in it was hers for the taking. Hers, not his. She was the one in control of what happened tonight. And right now, she wanted to focus on her food.

"So what’s next, Chef?" she asked, already drooling for the next course.

Gordon grabbed a sheet pan out of a nearby holding cooler. On it were three rows of round ravioli with neatly crimped edges.

"These are filled with a crimini mushroom reduction, a little ricotta to hold it together and a mix of hard cheeses like Pecorino and Romano." He walked over and unceremoniously dumped the whole lot into a tall pot of boiling water. He didn’t even wince when large drops of the fiery liquid jumped up and landed on his bare arms. "They only take about three minutes to cook. While that happens, I’m going to finish up the sauce."

"And that is?" Tracy asked, breathless.

Gordon grabbed a saucier and held it down so that she could see the simmering, golden liquid inside.

"I’ve got some butter that I’m browning slightly." He set the pan back down and threw in a few green leaves. "There’s some sage and a little lemon juice. Now I can put the pasta in here to finish."