Nell's Kitchen
Chapter 1
Romance Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Paul spent years running the restaurant his parents left behind. Nell’s is his work, his family and most of his life. But lately, the people closest to him have been making life a lot more complicated. With Halloween approaching, Paul discovers that some things are a lot harder to manage than a kitchen.
Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual
By eight every night, Nell’s felt like it was going to tip over. Somehow, it never did.
The dining room was packed and the pass was screaming. Paul was already out among the tables, a towel slung over his shoulder. He was grinning at someone, as usual. Rae admired Paul’s ability to make perfect strangers feel like regulars within minutes.
She trailed behind as usual, clipboard in hand, clicking her pen furiously. She had to, to ensure that the ringmaster didn’t burn the circus down every night.
“Paul! The food is wonderful. As always!” Mr. Smith chirped. “The minestrone soup tastes even better than usual! Did you do something different today? This isn’t Nell’s recipe, is it?”
“No it isn’t, Tom. I’m glad you like it.”
“My boy, I’ve been coming here for ten years and you manage to surprise me every time!”
“Thank you, Tom. You know, my mother always used to tell me that you were one of her favorite customers.”
“Of course, my boy. She would be proud of you, you know. She was such a wonderful woman. Always so full of life! And your father! Mr. Hospitality himself. Such a pity about her ... you know.” Tom grimaced as his daughter kicked him under the table.
“And you know how much she valued you, Tom.” Rae interjected smoothly. She steered Paul away from the table before Tom could dig the hole any deeper. “You look like you need more bread. I’ll make sure you get it.”
Paul zoned out for a second before his trademark grin returned to his face as he approached Table Six.
“John, Matilda. It’s so wonderful to see you again!”
He leaned in to talk to John as if he were discussing a state secret. “You mentioned it was your four year anniversary, right?”
He winked at Matilda as Rae tried hard not to roll her eyes.
“Listen. I’ve got a dry-aged ribeye back in the kitchen with your name on it. Stay for dessert ... I’ll throw in the tarts. On the house ... for my favourite couple!”
The wife beamed. “Oh, Paul! You’re too good to us.”
Rae stepped in smoothly before Paul could say any more. “What Paul means to say is that the steak will be on the check.” Her octave dropped as she deadpanned. “And the tart is a slice. That is, if we have any left. Right, Paul?”
Paul let out a rich, throaty laugh. He casually put a hand on the back of John’s chair. “A slice, it is. But, I’ll make sure it’s a big one. It is a special day, isn’t it?”
John and Matilda smiled happily at him.
Before Rae could strangle him, he glided over to table seven with two women. They had been tracking him ever since they had walked in. The blonde bit her lip as Paul approached her. The brunette sat up so fast that her champagne spilled slightly on the table.
“Rough day?” Paul asked softly. He rested both hands on the edge of the table and leaned down. The blonde practically swooned. The brunette gave him a smoky look.
“We can’t have two gorgeous women like yourselves suffer like this.” He leaned in further and whispered. Both women were hanging on his every word.
“Tell you what. Forget the menu. I’m going to roll you some hand-cut gnocchi. Just for you. How does that sound?”
“Oh, Paul. We’d love that!” the blonde purred. She reached out to touch his forearm. “We’re completely in your hands.”
The brunette gulped, “That’s so nice of you.”
Rae clicked her pen and cleared her throat. She slid right between Paul’s shoulder and the table.
“Ladies. You look great tonight! What Paul means is that he’s going to make you a sampler.” She was writing fast. “That is, if the line allows it. We’re pretty rushed at the moment.”
The blonde’s smile curdled into a glare. The brunette looked balefully at Rae. She didn’t care.
She grabbed Paul by the sleeve of his chef’s coat and dragged him towards the kitchen.
Paul winked at the women. “Enjoy your drinks, ladies. Always a pleasure.”
“Stop doing this Paul!” she hissed under her breath. “Table Six does not need free ribeye and those two harlots don’t require off-the-menu items. We’re terribly busy as it is! If you offer anything else free, I’m putting you on dish duty. You understand?”
“They deserve it, Rae,” Paul murmured. He grinned at her. He didn’t pull his arm away from her grip. “It’s hospitality. You know what Mom and Dad used to say.”
“And yet, they both knew that you couldn’t give free stuff away to everyone. Don’t confuse hospitality with stupidity, Paul. You don’t seem to know the difference. Go back to the kitchen before I’m forced to comp your paycheck.”
She shoved the swing door open. The heat of the line hit them like an open furnace. The new kid gaped at them. He looked at Paul like he’d just seen a rock star arrive.
Rae marched straight to the pass and grabbed the pan Paul had been hovering over earlier. She scraped it into a plate.
“This is done,” she snapped. She set the pan down with a loud clatter. “Stop tweaking the garnishes for no reason, chef.”
“I’m making it look right,” Paul protested.
She didn’t move when Paul leaned past her for the tongs.
“Rae, move.”
“You move.”
That was the problem. She didn’t particularly want to. He smelled too good.
“You ruin all my fun,” he muttered, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
She shook her head. “I keep you solvent, you goof.”
“You’re bossy.”
“And you’re bad at math.”
Paul laughed and reached around her for a dry towel hanging off the line. His chest brushed against her shoulder. Rae’s eyes fluttered for half a second before she forced them open.
“Rae,” he whispered.
“Wh ... what?”
“You’re blocking my pass.”
She turned to give him a piece of her mind, but his hand was already on her hip. His thumb pressed against her waist, holding her close. For a moment, she forgot all about the pass.
“Ok. Listen. We need to compromise. You let me give that nice couple the slice of tart and I won’t give away more free bottles tonight. Deal?”
She couldn’t think clearly as he held her closer.
“But I’m making that gnocchi for those ladies.”
Rae could only nod. She had to step back and wait a couple of seconds before she could breathe normally again.
“Ok on the slice of tart. But the gnocchi is only a taster. You understand, Chef?”
Paul looked disappointed for a moment. Then he answered. “Understood, Chef.”
The prep kid stared at them. He leaned towards the sous chef, “That’s his girlfriend, right? Damn, she’s ... something!”
The sous chef deadpanned. “That’s Rae. Yes, she’s gorgeous. She knows it. Now quit staring and get back to work.”
“But...”
“We need the onions, kid. Keep chopping.”
Rae was about to head back out to the dining room when the runner almost bumped into her.
“Rae. Mr Vance on table nine wants to talk to Paul. He says that the lamb chop is unacceptable tonight. He’s threatening to...”
Rae sighed. Paul was already wiping his hands on the apron.
“Paul, no. Let me handle him. You have enough work to keep you busy here.”
Paul smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be fine with a bottle of wine. I have a ‘15 Barolo.”
“I don’t think so, Chef. This is a typical stunt Mr. Vance tries to pull every year. You just take care of the food. You promised those ladies you’d make them the gnocchi, right?”
“But Rae. He brings in fifty corporate dinners a year...”
Rae interjected before he could continue. “Chef. Look around you. Burner three is not working. You have hand-cut gnocchi to make. Plus, we can’t afford to keep giving away free bottles of wine every time someone complains.”
Paul looked like he wanted to argue. Rae just ignored him. She looked at the tickets on the rail. “Line! Hold tickets fourteen through eighteen. Shift all pan-sears to the back range.”
She turned to Paul with an expression he knew better than to argue. “Go.”
Paul nodded and headed back to his station.
“Heard, Chef Rae,” he called out as a couple of cooks laughed.
Two minutes later, Rae was back. She pulled Vance’s ticket off the rail and replaced it with a handwritten note.
“Vance is getting a slice of that tart you’re making for the couple, Chef.”
Paul looked at her, “What happened with the lamb?”
Rae smirked. “We’re charging him full price.”
Paul stared at her. “And he agreed to that? How’d you manage to do that?”
Rae chuckled, “He’d eaten most of it, Chef! Clearly he didn’t have as big a problem with it, did he?”
Paul looked at Rae with admiration. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
A few moments later, Rae went back to the dining room. At the host stand, she opened the reservation book. She was halfway through checking the next table when she realized her hand was resting against her waist. Right where Paul had held her.
Oh, for God’s sake!
Rae was smiling when she looked up as the front door opened.
Leah made an entrance when she stepped into the restaurant. No one looking at her would have believed that she had just finished a tiring twelve hour shoot. Forks stopped midway as she looked around the restaurant. Leah was often the most beautiful woman in every room she walked into.
She smiled as she noticed the commotion she had created at Nell’s. She loved the attention.
Her face turned icy the moment she looked at the host stand though. Rae stood there with a clipboard in her hands looking effortlessly gorgeous.
“Is he in?” Leah asked politely.
“He’s in,” Rae said evenly, clicking her pen. “He’s busy at the moment though. I’ll let him know you’re here. It may take him a while to meet you.”
Leah nodded sharply. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
Leah didn’t wait to be seated. She simply set her designer bag on the counter, and walked straight around the end of the bar into the service well.
“Lee! It’s good to see you! You’re looking wow as usual”
Leah tittered. “Thanks Bert. Now pass me the ice box, will you? I want to make myself a drink.”
Bert nodded and watched Leah make herself a drink like a natural. She sighed as she took a sip. Damn! She needed that.
A moment later, when she saw the busser loading racks by the pass, she reached into her bag.
“Hey Marcus! I brought you those pistachio cannolis from Midtown.”
His face lit up. “Thanks Lee! You’re a lifesaver. My kids are going to love it!”
“Anytime. You need some help?”
Without waiting for an answer, she casually walked over and helped the overloaded busser stack glassware into the dishwasher.
“Does she work here as well?” a customer asked Bert. “She doesn’t look like she works here.”
Bert nodded. “That’s Lee. She’s pretty much grown up here. She’s family.”
The customer looked impressed as he watched Leah load the dishes.
Leah had made herself another drink by the time Paul burst through the swing doors.
Rae was irked when she saw the way he looked at Leah. Suddenly, the sharp focus and exhaustion disappeared. His face became soft ... almost sappy. Rae gave an exasperated gasp when she saw a small, steaming bowl in his hand.
Today he made pan-fried ravioli tossed in brown butter, sage with truffle shavings. It was almost like a daily ritual for him. Whenever she came in, he insisted on preparing something for her himself. A new dish each day. He didn’t even need to ask what she wanted. Somehow he always seemed to make her favorite.
Rae gritted her teeth when she watched supermodel Leah transform into a blushing fangirl the moment Paul appeared.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Leah murmured as she reached across to take both his hands after he set the bowl down.
Paul didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned over the counter and rested his elbows on the stone. Their foreheads were barely six inches apart.
Rae could never understand how they managed to converse so effortlessly. The two of them laughed as they shared inside jokes. She noticed his thumb rub the back of her hand idly as they conversed.
Rae sighed as the women on table seven watched Paul and Leah wistfully. She knew how they felt.
Leah shivered suddenly as the AC vent directly above her stool blew a draft down her back. She crossed her bare arms over her silk top to rub her shoulders. Paul noticed immediately.
He walked towards the office and returned with a heavy flannel shirt. He stepped behind Leah and draped his shirt around her shoulders.
Table seven sighed as they watched Leah bury her face into the shirt. Rae wanted to throw something at them.
It was so unfair, Rae thought.
Leah was already so gorgeous. Everyone loved her. Did Paul have to like her so much as well? She hated how easily she could make him forget the world around him. She hated how effortlessly she made him laugh.
Unable to stomach another second of it, Rae marched up to the counter and stepped in between them. Rae smirked when Leah looked annoyed.
“Your kitchen needs you, Chef. We’ve got way too many orders piled up. Table four is still waiting on their duck.”
Paul blinked. He pulled back good-naturedly. “Right. Thanks Rae.”
He took Leah’s hand and kissed it. Someone from table seven moaned. Rae rolled her eyes.
“Duty calls, milady. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Leah smiled dreamily. However, when Paul headed back she shot Rae a look of pure, unadulterated poison. Rae returned the glare before she headed back into the kitchen.
This time it was Leah’s turn to watch Paul wistfully through the wide pass window.
Leah watched Rae and Paul move in the kitchen. Although they were working it felt intimate. They moved like a single organism. Leah noticed that Paul didn’t even have to look up to get Rae’s attention.
He’d simply hold out his hand and Rae would understand. Leah watched how attentive Paul was when Rae was in the kitchen with him. His hand would rest casually on Rae’s hip to guide her past the hot sheet trays. Leah sighed when Rae didn’t even look surprised. The two of them looked completely at ease with one another. Neither even noticed when Rae leaned on his shoulder when she would check the ticket rail.
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