“The first thing we’re going to do is make the base sauce. This is a sauce you can use in many recipes, a variety of different ways, and once you master it, you’ll have a ton of recipes at your fingertips. It’s called a béchamel sauce.”
Jack stepped down and walked through the rows of mini-kitchens. “Everyone put on your chef’s coats and let’s get started.”
She put on a coat he’d left for her and the kids followed suit, removing coats from their bags, all except for one—the pudgy one.
“Where’s your coat, Jesse” Jack asked.
The kid tugged down his baseball hat and refused to look him in the eye.
“Jesse?”
The kid glanced over at Megan, who was coaxing him to do something.
Jack looked between them and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you lose your coat?”
Jesse shook his head.
“Did you forget it?”
Again, Jesse disagreed.
“Then…”
Jesse slipped something out of his bag—the coat that used to be white. Black smudges covered the fabric, and one of the arms was ripped from the seam. It had been purposely ruined. The rest of the kids sat quietly, except for Megan.
“Some assholes grabbed—”
“Language,” Jack interrupted.
Sterling smiled at his concern.
“Some jerks pushed Jesse around last week and took his coat.” Megan straightened. She was one tough little girl. “I showed up but it was too late to save the jacket.”
“Is that why you have scratches on your face?” he asked.
The girl looked at the floor.
“Fighting is not the answer.”
Megan said, “They called him Chef Fatty.”
“Megan,” Jesse yelled.
“Jesse, you can always get another coat. You don’t need to be embarrassed. And you shouldn’t be ashamed of what we do here.” Jack looked around the room, at all of the kids. “People pick on others because of their own insecurities, and maybe even jealousy. If it happens again, invite them to the program. I’ll make room.”
“But Jack—”
“No buts. Just try it.” He laid his arm around the kid’s shoulder and guided him to the back. “Come on, Jesse, let’s get you another coat.”
Sterling was…impressed. More than impressed. He would make a great father if he ever settled down and decided that’s what he wanted to do. But was that what he wanted? The media portrayed him as a commitment-phobe party animal, but that was a far cry from the man she had gotten to know.
The volume in the room grew louder as the group began their recipes. She watched in awe at the motivation and interest the group showed. Who would have thought a bunch of teenagers wanted to make a béchamel sauce?
“Sterling?” Jack whispered over her shoulder. “You don’t want a bunch of kids to beat you, do you?”
Like hell. She got right to work.
She read over the recipe and placed her utensils on the counter in a line. Although she had no idea what she was doing, at least she could organize the damn things. After turning on the stove, she placed the pot on the burner.