“And you, Marcus.”
“This must be Mr. Rhodes.” Marcus extended his hand and Rhodes stared at it for a short moment before giving it a firm shake. “Our Executive Chef is ready for you in the kitchen. This way, please.”
Marcus escorted us through the pleasantly crowded restaurant to the back kitchen. I watched Rhodes’ eyes as we passed each intricate section of the dining area. LaRue’s was famous for its various dining environments, from the cozy palace corner donned with rich reds and browns to the bright whites and blues of the outside beach-themed experience. Rhodes had so many firsts of mine, it was nice to finally get to experience a first of his.
When Marcus led us through the swinging double doors, an entirely new atmosphere engulfed us. There were chefs running everywhere, flames burning high, orders being shouted. In a normal universe, I might have been alarmed, but in the current one with Rhodes’ wide eyes and curious smile, I was nothing but excited.
“Ah! Miss Poxton!” Chef Karsak wiped his forehead with an off-white towel, tucking it in his back pocket just in time to reach out his hands for mine. He kissed them with a wide, toothy grin and I returned the smile. “It’s such an honor to have you in my house. Come, come,” he gestured to the stove he was just working. “Thank you, Marcus. I’ll take it from here.”
“This is incredible,” Rhodes murmured, taking in the chaos of the kitchen. Chef Karsak smiled, folding his arms across his chest.
“Isn’t it? Never gets old. I take it you must be Mr. Rhodes?” Again, Rhodes hesitated just a short moment before shaking his hand. Chef Karsak shouted out a few expletives at a chef across the kitchen before returning his eyes to Rhodes, still smiling. “I’m Joseph Karsak, the Executive Chef here at LaRue’s. Miss Poxton said over our phone call that you are quite the cook yourself. That right?”
For the first time, Rhodes almost looked embarrassed. He cleared his throat and slightly nodded.
“Brilliant. Let’s get started, Mr. Rhodes.” Chef Karsak clapped his hands together. He was slightly shorter than Rhodes, but it was easy to see Rhodes looked up to him, anyway. The two of them went to work, mixing and searing and tossing and baking. I helped out a little here and there, but for the most part, I just watched. It was fascinating seeing Rhodes in his element. He understood everything Chef Karsak said, while I, on the other hand, was just as confused as when I ordered from the menu. None of the cooking techniques or dish names made sense to me, but they were like a second language to Rhodes.
I had only asked for an hour of Chef Karsak’s time, but the pair was getting along so well that we ended up staying until the last dish was prepared. It was comical at times, watching them work together, because they were such opposites. Chef Karsak had ashy blonde hair and dark chocolate eyes, a stark contrast to Rhodes’ dark hair and bright eyes. He shouted and cursed and was just generally a larger-than-life character, but Rhodes was quiet, focused, meticulous. Rhodes was tall and built, the kitchen tools almost looking too small for him since I was used to seeing him surrounded by weights, whereas Chef Karsak was shorter but lanky and almost perfectly matched to his kitchen. And where Chef Karsak seemed to do everything with neat precision, Rhodes had more of a sporadic style, though it was still controlled. The fire in his eyes was just as hot as that on the stoves and I knew he would eventually find a way to make this his life. He had to.
When midnight rolled around, the rest of the chefs in the kitchen were still cleaning and prepping ingredients for the next day as Chef Karsak pulled Rhodes in for a manly hug and hard clap on the back.
“You know, I think I might have learned a thing or two from you tonight,” he said through a grin.
“This has been incredible.” Rhodes’ eyes found mine. “I don’t think I can thank you enough.”
“It was my pleasure.” Chef Karsak kissed my cheeks and Rhodes and I made our way outside, but he stopped us one last time. “Listen, you go get your culinary arts degree, hone in on your skill and tighten up your methods, and you have a spot on my team.” Rhodes’ jaw dropped slightly, but Chef Karsak just smiled, handing him a business card. “Don’t waste any time. You need to be in the kitchen, Mr. Rhodes. It’s your home, and you’ve been away too long as it is.” He nodded to me once more. “Take care, Miss Poxton.”
“Thank you again, Chef.”
With one last wink, Chef Karsak disappeared behind the swinging doors, instructions flying from his mouth immediately. I led Rhodes out the back door of the restaurant and down to the beach, kicking off my sandals when we reached the sand. He still hadn’t said anything, so I slid my hand into his.
“You’re quiet. Should I be scared?”
Rhodes shook his head, a peaceful look on his face as he stared out at the moonlit waves. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t scowling, either. He just looked content. Pensive.
“Did you at least have fun?”
Rhodes stopped then, his hand still firmly grasping mine. My breath caught at the way the soft blue lighting of the night reflected in his eyes. “Are you kidding? Natalie, this is one of the best nights of my life, right behind the night you chose me outside of Willow’s house.” My heart jumped. “I still can’t wrap my head around what just happened.”
“You were amazing to watch in there.”
The left corner of his lips pulled into the faintest smile. “No one has ever called me Mr. Rhodes.” He shook his head, wetting his lips. “No one has ever shaken my hand like that. Like I mattered. Like I meant something.”
I frowned. “You do matter, Rhodes.”
His eyes gleamed. “I’m starting to believe you.”
Tentatively, his hands found my hips. He pulled me closer, pressing his forehead to mine, and I threaded my arms around his neck, kissing him softly.
“Can we stay for a while?”
Pulling him down into the sand with me, I answered without words. We were close to the water’s edge, the waves gently rolling in just over the tops of my toes. Rhodes slipped off his shoes and joined me, and we sat in comfortable silence, our minds replaying the evening.
I felt alive with Rhodes next to me in this state. He had changed so much since the beginning of the summer. I wanted to say it was like I was peeling back his layers, but the truth was, Rhodes didn’t work in that simple of a manner. I couldn’t just break down one wall and step easily through to the next. He was a constantly altering maze, a Rubik’s cube of complexity I wasn’t sure I would ever fully understand.
“This must be Mr. Rhodes.” Marcus extended his hand and Rhodes stared at it for a short moment before giving it a firm shake. “Our Executive Chef is ready for you in the kitchen. This way, please.”
Marcus escorted us through the pleasantly crowded restaurant to the back kitchen. I watched Rhodes’ eyes as we passed each intricate section of the dining area. LaRue’s was famous for its various dining environments, from the cozy palace corner donned with rich reds and browns to the bright whites and blues of the outside beach-themed experience. Rhodes had so many firsts of mine, it was nice to finally get to experience a first of his.
When Marcus led us through the swinging double doors, an entirely new atmosphere engulfed us. There were chefs running everywhere, flames burning high, orders being shouted. In a normal universe, I might have been alarmed, but in the current one with Rhodes’ wide eyes and curious smile, I was nothing but excited.
“Ah! Miss Poxton!” Chef Karsak wiped his forehead with an off-white towel, tucking it in his back pocket just in time to reach out his hands for mine. He kissed them with a wide, toothy grin and I returned the smile. “It’s such an honor to have you in my house. Come, come,” he gestured to the stove he was just working. “Thank you, Marcus. I’ll take it from here.”
“This is incredible,” Rhodes murmured, taking in the chaos of the kitchen. Chef Karsak smiled, folding his arms across his chest.
“Isn’t it? Never gets old. I take it you must be Mr. Rhodes?” Again, Rhodes hesitated just a short moment before shaking his hand. Chef Karsak shouted out a few expletives at a chef across the kitchen before returning his eyes to Rhodes, still smiling. “I’m Joseph Karsak, the Executive Chef here at LaRue’s. Miss Poxton said over our phone call that you are quite the cook yourself. That right?”
For the first time, Rhodes almost looked embarrassed. He cleared his throat and slightly nodded.
“Brilliant. Let’s get started, Mr. Rhodes.” Chef Karsak clapped his hands together. He was slightly shorter than Rhodes, but it was easy to see Rhodes looked up to him, anyway. The two of them went to work, mixing and searing and tossing and baking. I helped out a little here and there, but for the most part, I just watched. It was fascinating seeing Rhodes in his element. He understood everything Chef Karsak said, while I, on the other hand, was just as confused as when I ordered from the menu. None of the cooking techniques or dish names made sense to me, but they were like a second language to Rhodes.
I had only asked for an hour of Chef Karsak’s time, but the pair was getting along so well that we ended up staying until the last dish was prepared. It was comical at times, watching them work together, because they were such opposites. Chef Karsak had ashy blonde hair and dark chocolate eyes, a stark contrast to Rhodes’ dark hair and bright eyes. He shouted and cursed and was just generally a larger-than-life character, but Rhodes was quiet, focused, meticulous. Rhodes was tall and built, the kitchen tools almost looking too small for him since I was used to seeing him surrounded by weights, whereas Chef Karsak was shorter but lanky and almost perfectly matched to his kitchen. And where Chef Karsak seemed to do everything with neat precision, Rhodes had more of a sporadic style, though it was still controlled. The fire in his eyes was just as hot as that on the stoves and I knew he would eventually find a way to make this his life. He had to.
When midnight rolled around, the rest of the chefs in the kitchen were still cleaning and prepping ingredients for the next day as Chef Karsak pulled Rhodes in for a manly hug and hard clap on the back.
“You know, I think I might have learned a thing or two from you tonight,” he said through a grin.
“This has been incredible.” Rhodes’ eyes found mine. “I don’t think I can thank you enough.”
“It was my pleasure.” Chef Karsak kissed my cheeks and Rhodes and I made our way outside, but he stopped us one last time. “Listen, you go get your culinary arts degree, hone in on your skill and tighten up your methods, and you have a spot on my team.” Rhodes’ jaw dropped slightly, but Chef Karsak just smiled, handing him a business card. “Don’t waste any time. You need to be in the kitchen, Mr. Rhodes. It’s your home, and you’ve been away too long as it is.” He nodded to me once more. “Take care, Miss Poxton.”
“Thank you again, Chef.”
With one last wink, Chef Karsak disappeared behind the swinging doors, instructions flying from his mouth immediately. I led Rhodes out the back door of the restaurant and down to the beach, kicking off my sandals when we reached the sand. He still hadn’t said anything, so I slid my hand into his.
“You’re quiet. Should I be scared?”
Rhodes shook his head, a peaceful look on his face as he stared out at the moonlit waves. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t scowling, either. He just looked content. Pensive.
“Did you at least have fun?”
Rhodes stopped then, his hand still firmly grasping mine. My breath caught at the way the soft blue lighting of the night reflected in his eyes. “Are you kidding? Natalie, this is one of the best nights of my life, right behind the night you chose me outside of Willow’s house.” My heart jumped. “I still can’t wrap my head around what just happened.”
“You were amazing to watch in there.”
The left corner of his lips pulled into the faintest smile. “No one has ever called me Mr. Rhodes.” He shook his head, wetting his lips. “No one has ever shaken my hand like that. Like I mattered. Like I meant something.”
I frowned. “You do matter, Rhodes.”
His eyes gleamed. “I’m starting to believe you.”
Tentatively, his hands found my hips. He pulled me closer, pressing his forehead to mine, and I threaded my arms around his neck, kissing him softly.
“Can we stay for a while?”
Pulling him down into the sand with me, I answered without words. We were close to the water’s edge, the waves gently rolling in just over the tops of my toes. Rhodes slipped off his shoes and joined me, and we sat in comfortable silence, our minds replaying the evening.
I felt alive with Rhodes next to me in this state. He had changed so much since the beginning of the summer. I wanted to say it was like I was peeling back his layers, but the truth was, Rhodes didn’t work in that simple of a manner. I couldn’t just break down one wall and step easily through to the next. He was a constantly altering maze, a Rubik’s cube of complexity I wasn’t sure I would ever fully understand.
