CHAPTER1
Sage
“Ineed those four crème brûléesnow,” Louis called to me across the hectic kitchen.
I bit back a retort as I bent over the stainless steel counter, using a small torch to melt the sugar on top of the creamy desserts. Louis was the head chef of this restaurant and he liked to bark out orders, even though he could clearly see that I was on top of things at my station. It was an ego power-trip, and I was used to it after working here for the past three years.
Les Plaisirwas one of the hottest fine-dining French restaurants in New York City, and I knew that my pastries were a big part of the draw of this place. I always assumed Louis acted so rude to me because he was jealous of that, but I didn’t care. I loved the work. It was my art.
Once all four of the ramekins in front of me had a nice, crispy top, I nodded to the expediter to take them to my boss. I watched as Louis nodded his approval and the crème brûlées were given to the waitress that was waiting patiently for the desserts.
It was Sunday evening, which wasn’t the busiest day of the week, but the restaurant never really had a slow day. The kitchen was a chaotic hub, churning out high quality food that brought customers back time and time again. As much as I enjoyed working here, I often found myself fantasizing about opening a little pastry shop, something that I could be proud to call my own.
“Sage, snap out of it. Are you daydreaming about your vacation already?”
I glanced over to the prep station to see Rita, the sous chef, grinning at me. She was my closest friend, and the person that had recommended me for this job in the first place. Working with her made the hustle and bustle of this kitchen feel a little less overwhelming. She kept me in a good mood, and I did the same for her.
“It’s not a vacation,” I told her as I opened the oven and pulled out a tray of multi-colored macarons. I set them on the counter. “It’s a destination wedding. My cousin Faith is getting married next weekend.”
“Yeah, in a tropical paradise. Sounds like a vacation to me.”
I smiled. She had a point. I was thrilled to be going to a small Caribbean island for a week. I’d looked up pictures of the place online, and it was all white, sandy beaches and unbelievably clear blue water. I felt more relaxed justthinkingabout going there.
“Your vacation doesn’t start until your shift ends in two hours,” Louis barked out, having overheard our conversation. “Until then, maybe you could finish those macarons and get me a chocolate eclair on the fly?”
I rolled my eyes but headed to the cooler to grab the eclair and the ingredients I would need to whip up a vanilla buttercream for the macaroons. Louis was being a jerk, but he was technically right. My time off hadn’t started yet and as much as I wanted to start my own business, I still worked for this one.
But for the rest of my shift, I kept thinking about Pompeo Island. I would be there by this time tomorrow, and I couldn’t wait.
“Do you think your mom’s going to give you a hard time about not having a date?” Rita asked later when Louis was distracted by an incoming order.
I had just filled my macarons and packed them up to be put in the cooler overnight. Well, all except one. I needed to taste-test them, of course.
Working as a pastry chef was probably a big part of the reason that I was on the extra-curvy side, but I didn’t care. I loved my sweet treats, and I was comfortable in my own skin. My mother blamed my single status on those few extra pounds, but she was wrong. It wasn’t that I didn’t have options. I just didn’t date unless I felt a spark, which was pretty rare.
“I can guarantee it, but what’s she going to do?” I said with a shrug. “Once we’re on the island, we’ll be busy with wedding stuff and fun, vacation-y things. She’ll get over it.”
Rita smirked. “I hope so, for your sake.”
“If only I had a sibling, then she wouldn’t be so focused on me getting married and having kids.” I sighed, leaning a hip against the counter. “I swear, it’s like her only goal in life is to see me walk down the aisle myself. And Faith’s upcoming wedding is definitely making it worse.”
Rita chuckled. She’d been my friend long enough to know that my mom had been driving me crazy with this stuff in the last couple of years. I was only twenty-seven years old, but she acted like my time to settle down was running out. I tried to be tolerant because I knew that she just wanted to see me happy, like she was with my dad. But those two were high school sweethearts, and we didn’t all get that lucky.
“Well, no matter how busy you are, I expect you to bring me back a souvenir,” Rita said, giving me a wink.
We got back to work as Louis shouted out the next order, and I just hoped that my mom didn’t spend the entire plane ride tomorrow complaining about the fact that I hadn’t had a serious boyfriend since my college days. One way or another, she’d have to eventually accept that you couldn’t force love.
* * *
Where in thehell did I put my cell phone charger?
It was noon and my parents would be here to pick me up any minute. I knew that I should have packed my suitcase when I got home from work last night, but I was exhausted after a ten-hour shift on my feet. I’d stumbled through the door and barely taken the time to strip out of my clothes before falling into bed and sleeping like a rock all night.
Now, I was rushing around, my hair still wet from a shower, throwing everything into my suitcase that I thought I would need for a week on the island. Swimsuits, sundresses, sandals, sunglasses…
“A-hah!” I cried out happily as I found my charger on the floor behind my nightstand.
I was just about ready to go when I heard a knock on the door of my apartment. I knew that it had to be my parents, so I quickly closed the suitcase, zipping it up and dragging it to the door as they knocked again and my father’s voice came from the other side.