Fire In the Kitchen by Donna Allen Read Free Book Online Page A

clock.
    “Are you serious, you stupid woman?” The chef’s fists were clenched and he looked as if his facial expression alone could change the woman’s blue streaks to red. “You’re saying I can’t register because I’m thirty seconds too late? Have you looked at the weather out there or are you just interested in creating a storm in here?”
    Cassidy watched Dante stroll over. He beckoned her to follow.
    “ Buongiorno, John. Is that any way to speak to a lady?”
    “Forget it, Dante. My mate before me was only five seconds late and she sent him packing, too.”
    Dante turned his full attention to the older woman, even though he was still speaking to his colleague. He leaned close and read her name badge.
    “ Pearl was just doing her job. Show some respect and bow out gracefully. There’s always next year.”
    “Mr. Cristiani, you came,” she gushed. “We were so excited when we heard a rumor you were coming.” She handed him a clipboard with a registration form to complete.
    “Pearl, are you sure?” He patted her shoulder and indicated for Cassidy and the other chef to also receive forms. “We don’t want to get you into trouble.”
    Pearl put the minute hand back on the clock a fraction. “No problem. You’re what this competition is all about. You’re passionate, at the top of your game, and…” She paused and theatrically fluffed up her hair. “…the stuff women’s bedtime stories are made of.”
    Dante reached for her hand and kissed it. As Pearl sighed, he signed his name with a flourish and handed the registration form back to her.
    “Thanks, Pearl. Sei stata molto brava .” He turned to Cassidy. “See you in there. Good luck.”
    The other chef beat her to handing in his form. As Cassidy waited for her turn, she watched Dante’s physique as he walked away. Nice long legs, purposeful stride, wide shoulders she imagined herself massaging.
    “Ahem.” The registrar coughed.
    Cassidy diverted her attention to the form.
    “There are a lot of disclaimers here. Shouldn’t I stop to read them?”
    “Only if you want to read for a living instead of attending an audition. It would take you half an hour to digest all that technical mumbo jumbo.”
    “I guess I’ll take the risk, then. Thanks, Pearl.”
    She handed her the form.
    “It’s Mrs. Sullivan to you, young lady.” Pearl pushed her glasses down her nose and had a good look at Cassidy. She pulled a few tissues from a box and handed them to her as she indicated the restrooms. “Go and freshen up, dear, you look like you’ve been run over by a bus.”

Chapter 8
    Cassidy rushed to the bathroom and realized how unsexy she must have appeared in Dante’s eyes. She looked like a drowned possum. The mascara down her cheeks and flat dirty-blonde, damp hair added to the effect.
    She wet the tissues she’d been given and swiped them over the black makeup streaks. She put on lip gloss and decided it didn’t make any difference because her face was beyond saving. There was nothing she could do about her clothes.
    Her head still buzzed from the night before. If she was after a distraction from her mother’s pregnancy news, this one was priceless.
    “Toughen up, princess,” she said to her reflection. “Shut up and cook. Do what you love to do. Save Dad’s café and give Mum a break so Gary can paint the spare room pink or blue. Pay the tax man. That’s why you’re here, sunshine.”
    Cassidy left the restroom and followed the signs and noise toward the huge open double doors leading to the audition that could change her life. She took a deep breath before she walked through the long corridor.
    Nothing could have prepared Cassidy for what was happening in the huge warehouse beyond the entranceway. There must have been a hundred crew members, all intent on their roles. There were several cameramen surrounding the judges’ table and a few more around the competitors’ benches, where they prepared their dishes. The crew was so close