"Same to you," Gordon said. "Give me just a minute?"
Tracy responded this time. "Sure. We’ll be around the corner."
He smiled and ducked back behind the eggshell-colored column. Mr. Hayes reached out and touched Tracy’s lower back. A patch of it was exposed by a low sling of black fabric that hung just above her round ass. The whole thing draped off of her in a way that reminded her of a Greek goddess.
She spun around, feeling a sudden burst of friskiness from out of nowhere. She grinned at him. "Yes, Mr. Hayes?"
It felt good to smile. To flir
t. It had been some time since she actually felt like her old self. Months, maybe.
"He’s more handsome than I was imagining," Mr. Hayes observed. Tracy thought there might even be a hint of jealousy.
Tracy gave up a short laugh and let her tense shoulders relax a little. After all, this might be the only time in her life where she would be sitting down with a world-renowned chef to taste what would become the menu for her restaurant, not to mention the fact that her billionaire boyfriend was there as her guest.
My restaurant, she thought to herself and looked around. Though Gordon bought a few things for their meal, the shelves were still mostly bare. They wouldn't be for long, though. Tracy couldn’t help but allow herself to revel in all of it. If she tried hard enough, she could almost see the hustle and bustle of a busy Friday night, could just about hear the constant cacophony of pots, pans, dishes and foul-mouthed chefs.
"Hey," Mr. Hayes’ voice snapped her out of her daydream.
Tracy blinked a couple of times. "Yeah?"
"Are you sure you’re okay?"
"Of course!" She grinned abruptly grabbed hold of his tie, pulling him in close. "I’m actually better than okay," she whispered. Their foreheads gently touched and she kissed him with a quick peck. Her fingers tightened around the strip of blue silk.
Before it could go any further, they were interrupted by Gordon clearing his throat. Tracy released Mr. Hayes and spun around on her spiky, nude-colored heels.
"Sorry," he said, wiping his brow with a small towel. "I’m about ready to start."
"Don’t apologize," Mr. Hayes answered before she could. "Is there anything that I can do?"
"Actually, I was thinking that we could drag one of those tables back here. It would make this a whole lot easier and you’d be able to see what goes into the dishes."
Tracy hadn’t even considered that.
"Of course. That’s a great idea. Mr. Hayes," she turned back to him. "You two can handle that, right?"
"No problem."Each man took an end of the table. It wasn’t an easy feat, either. The tables were made of solid mahogany that had been polished and buffed to a sparkling finish that made it hard to get a good grip.
Gordon backed through the doors, sliding his feet backwards as he went so that he didn’t trip over anything. Mr. Hayes followed, the corner of his bottom lip clenched under his upper teeth. Both of them were visibly exerting themselves and something about it made the tender flesh on the inside of Tracy’s thighs begin to tingle.
The feeling was subtle, but seeing the two of them exerting themselves to please her gave Tracy a sudden rush of joy.
"There," Mr. Hayes sighed as the table set down with a thunk. "I’ll grab the chairs, Gordon. You go ahead and take care of the kitchen."
The chiseled chef looked over with a smirk, "I think that I can handle that."
After a few minutes, Tracy and Mr. Hayes were seated comfortably in a pair of plush chairs, with another seat next to Tracy for Gordon. The two of them faced the kitchen where Gordon Baxter was hard at work.
"I brought some champagne, Mr. Hayes," Gordon called to him without looking away from his station. "It’s in the cooler. There are glasses in there, too."
"Excellent. I’ll be right back,” Mr. Hayes said. He touched Tracy on the back of her neck softly before walking away, giving her a little chill. When he was gone, she turned back to the kitchen.
"What are you working on now?" she asked, watching him with wide eyes. He grinned at her, and the heat of his gaze made her core heat.
"Ah," Gordon reached into a metal bin and scooped up a small ball of rice. "I made some risotto yesterday and stuck it in the cooler overnight."
The way that he moved around the kitchen so effortlessly was amazing to Tracy. Seeing anyone perform a skill that they’ve mastered was a treat, but seeing a chef on her payroll do his thing was even more rewarding. There was an easy dexterity in the way that he handled his tools that was fascinating to her, almost entrancing.