Poetry Man

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Turning on his iPod, he glanced at the clock on the docking station and decided that he had enough time to make Alexis something delicious for breakfast. There was no point in being a Cordon Bleu–trained chef if he couldn’t impress a beautiful woman with an impromptu repast. He set to work, getting out the ingredients for biscuits, sausage and omelets. The mise en place was critical to any good cook; having everything at one’s fingertips made the process of meal preparation much easier.

A knock on the door surprised him. Surely that couldn’t be Alexis already? He didn’t know any prompt women other than his mother and his two sisters. He thought that timeliness was a genetic trait because he’d never witnessed it outside his family. He answered the door and there was Alexis, fresh and sweet-smelling like a spring flower. He was so taken with the sight of her that he almost forgot to say hello, but his innate good manners kicked in.

“Good morning, Alexis. You look absolutely beautiful.”

She was wearing a short trench coat in a soft gray color and under it he could see something in a tangerine color that made her complexion glow. Her hair was sleek and glossy and she had three earrings in each ear, a tiny gold post and two small gold hoops. She smiled at him and remarked that he used the word beautiful a lot.

“Only when it’s appropriate, as it is now.” He held out his hand to her and led her into the large room that comprised the main living space of the loft. “Please come in and let me take your coat. Since you were nice enough to help me reclaim my car, I thought a little breakfast was in order.”

Alexis looked as if she was about to refuse but the smell of the coffee coming from the kitchen area was too enticing. “That’s right. You told Dr. Patil that you were opening a restaurant. You made breakfast for me?”

“I’m just getting started. Can you stay or do you need to go to work or something?”

“Actually, I took the morning off. And I love to eat, so you may be creating a monster here. All I ask is that you let me watch. I like to cook,” she confided. “Any time I can pick up some techniques from a pro is a good time for me.”

Jared helped her remove her coat and felt a tremor of arousal as he saw that the tangerine color was a soft, thin tunic sweater that wrapped around her slender frame like a lover’s caress. Her slim-fitting black jeans made her butt look spectacular and he had a hard time taking his gaze away from her. After he hung up her coat, he took her hand again and walked her to the kitchen area. He was pleased to see her eyes light up as she observed his array of utensils and ingredients. She went to the sink and washed her hands thoroughly.

“Mise en place before anything else? That’s the way I try to do it. Not just because I’ve read about it so often, but because if I don’t, things get a little catastrophic,” she admitted.

“Then you have good basic skills. That’s one of the first things you learn in culinary school.” Jared rummaged around in a small closet and emerged with a big white chef’s apron which he proceeded to put on Alexis. It covered her entire front and almost came down to her ankles.

“I don’t want anything to happen to that beautiful sweater. The color is fantastic on you, by the way.”

Alexis laughed softly. “You could bottle that charm and make some serious cash,” she teased him. “So what are you fixing today?”

“I’d planned on omelets with sausage, sweet potato hash, biscuits and peach preserves. How does that sound?”

“It sounds fabulous. What do we do first?”

“First we make the sausage. I normally make links but I haven’t found a supplier for the casings I like, so I’m going to make little patties. I hope you like salmon.”

Her eyes widened. “My absolute favorite. I’ve never had salmon sausage before.”

“I like to make home-style food. I’m not too crazy about trendy food and weird ingredients. My aim is to make the best American-style food with the freshest ingredients possible. I make several different kinds of fish sausages, as well as chicken and turkey.”

Alexis looked mesmerized as she carefully watched everything he was doing. His knife skills were amazing. Alexis was pretty good with a knife, but compared to Jared, she was a rank amateur. “Where did you study cooking?”

“After I graduated from Indiana University, I went to Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. I’d made a deal with my parents. If I finished my business degree and I still had a passion for cooking, they’d pay for me go to Cordon Bleu, since I was nice enough to get a full scholarship for undergrad. I’ve always known I wanted to be a chef, but Pop wanted to make sure I could do it right as far as the business side was concerned.”

“What does your dad do?” Alexis asked curiously.

“Pop is chief of surgery at John Stroger Hospital in Chicago. My mom is an educator in sociology. You would think that they’d discourage a nonacademic pursuit, especially for the oldest son, but they’re not like that. They always encouraged us to follow our passions and it’s worked out for each of us. I have two sisters and two brothers and we’re pretty diverse, but we’re all happy. Do you want to make the patties while I start the hash?”

“Oh, absolutely! But I want to watch you make the hash, too. I’ve never had it before. You’re very creative with ingredients, aren’t you? When did you get the urge to cook?”

“Watching my mother and my grandmother. Pop wasn’t much of a cook, but my mom could throw down in the kitchen. In everything, actually, she’s an amazing woman. When her mother came to live with us, I saw where she got it from because my gran is like a magician in the kitchen. So that’s where I got started.”

They continued to talk and prepare the meal together and the time just flew. In less than an hour they were seated at the breakfast bar, dining on Jared’s amazing menu of plump, fluffy omelets with shallots, red peppers, spinach and Parmigiana-Reggiano cheese with smoked salmon, a delicious hash of sweet potatoes, fingerling potatoes and more shallots with Granny Smith apples and a bit of cream. The salmon sausages were bright with flavor and his biscuits were so light they melted on the tongue. Jared loved watching Alexis eat. Her obvious enjoyment of everything was turning him on to an amazing extent. He was far too used to women who picked over their food or followed some strange diet that prevented them from partaking in a good meal without a running commentary on how many calories and carbs they were ingesting. Alexis certainly wasn’t cut from that cloth.

“You know, all we’ve done is talk about me. Now we’re going to talk about you,” he said firmly. “What kind of work do you do?”

Alexis took a sip of her excellent coffee and sighed with repletion. “I should be a competitive eater because I do love good food. I own two spa salons here in Columbia, Sanctuary One and Two.”

“And how did you decide to go into the beauty business?”