Page 8 of Twins with Daddy’s Bestie

“I just made some fresh muffins,” she says, bringing the muffins toward me. “I figured since you liked the butterscotch one so much the other day that I'd let you try one fresh.” I grab one and set it on the desk.

“What are you doing on Friday?” I ask and watch as her face morphs and countless thoughts cross her mind. I realize then that it sounds like I’m asking her out and need to clarify. “I forgot to hire a caterer for a dinner party on Friday, and I could really use a hand.”

“I am going out for a friend's birthday.” A relieved laugh escapes her throat.

“I could really use a hand with this. I’ll pay you, of course.” I offer her a pleading look so she knows I’m sincere. “Five thousand for the night, all cash under the table. You can cook whatever you want, it just has to impress the guests. I’ll give you my credit card to do the shopping.”

She mulls it over, wrinkling her eyebrows the same way she does when she's focusing on whatever it is she's cooking. I almost want to smile because of how endearing it is, but I force myself to remain stoic.

“Okay, you've got a deal.” She sets down the tray to shake my hand. I laugh and grab her hand, ignoring how soft it feels. “I'll get to work on the menu.”

With that, she all but skips out of my office, leaving the tray of baked goods on my desk.

5

Olivia

Knowing that Drake wants only the finest ingredients, I take his card and eagerly head to Golden Harvest, the expensive grocery store. I've been here countless times, though I have never bought anything. Just being around rare, exotic ingredients, and the finest foods imaginable is exciting. I've almost bought $15 chocolate bars just to see how they compare to the $2 Hershey bars I know and love, but I always chicken out at the register.

I don't feel like I belong here yet. In culinary school, our ingredients were sourced from local farms, and we never had to shop for ourselves. But I could see myself coming to places like this with my restaurant and sampling foods I've never tried just to come up with a new menu inspired by them.

I’m cooking for Drake and his ten guests on Friday, so I need to practice at home. Luckily for me, that means I'm cooking a five-course fine dining test meal for myself. It’s a dream come true being in this store with a limitless credit card.

I place an order at the meat counter for wagyu beef and at the seafood counter for a few freshwater lobsters and some scallops. While that's being prepared, I stride through every aisle, analyzing as many ingredients as I can and throwing them in the cart.

Perhaps I am going a little overboard with Drake's card, but he told me to spare no expense. The little devil on my shoulder is having a field day.

I hold my breath at the checkout counter, thankful I’m not using my money because, for the first time in my life, I’ve accumulated a grocery bill with a comma.

My roommate, Callie, is lounging on the couch watching The Real Housewives of Potomac when I walk in with my arms filled with bags. She jumps up to help, her black curls falling around her face as she bends over and huffs while lugging bags to the kitchen. “You know you can make multiple trips, right.”

“Nope!” I drop the bags on the floor and take a breather at the kitchen table. “There's no time for cardio when I have work to do.”

“I would hardly call walking to the car cardio,” Callie sighs before heading back to the couch. “Care to tell me how you can afford to shop at Golden Harvest? Do I need to be looking for wanted posters because you robbed a bank for fancy chocolate?”

“What kind of criminal would I be if I confessed so easily?” I start unloading the bags in the kitchen, smiling as I run through the various meals I can prepare. “My boss wants me to cater dinner at his house on Friday. Want to be my taste tester?”

“Why do you even ask? Of course.” Callie laughs. I realize that it's been a few days since I've seen her. Aside from finding out that I got the job and had an awkward run-in with one of Rita's lovers, she and I haven't caught up lately.

Since she started dating Steve, she's been spending more time at his house than ours. That’s another reason I was so desperate for this job. Any day now, I expect her to tell me she's moving in with him and leaving me to fend for the rent on my own. We have a lot to catch up on after I finish cooking.

Until then, I am focused on preparing the menu and testing it. I only graduated from culinary school six months ago, and a lot of the skills I acquired are still fresh in my mind. But this is one of the first times I haven't had the safety net of an instructor or a mentor. Everything I do for this dinner is from my mind and created with my hands. It's a scary thought that I could fail and realize I don't have what it takes to stand out on my own. Maybe opening a restaurant is too big of a step for me.

Catering dinner for Drake and his rich friends will be an eye-opener. The $5,000 was obviously enticing, but this experience will also help me immensely.

I spend about an hour in the kitchen preparing the mise en place. One of the first things they teach you in culinary school is the importance of organization when cooking. Not only will it help make things run smoother, but it takes a lot of the stress out of the process. When everything is in its place, I start cooking.

On Friday, I plan to make an elegant five-course meal with classic dishes everyone will recognize. I want them to taste the dishes and see how they've been revitalized through my culinary lens. It's going to be fresh and light, but nobody will be leaving Drake's house with an empty stomach.

It takes me two hours to cook everything, and when I'm done, I bring each dish to the dining room table for Callie and me to try. She eagerly takes a seat and looks at the first plate hungrily, ready to dig in before I hold up a finger to stop her. She sets down her fork gingerly and watches as I test out my presentation.

“The amuse-bouche is a pan-seared scallop with black truffle foam on a bed of cauliflower-and-lemon puree,” I say, gesturing for her to eat it. She does without hesitation, closing her eyes and moaning while she chews slowly.

“It’s melting in my mouth,” she says when she’s finished her first bite. “I could eat like twenty of these.”

“Well, you're getting one.” I take a bite, savoring the flaky, sweet, savory taste.

“Your boss is lucky to have you,” she says when I clear our first plates and bring out the appetizer: a foie gras torchon with roasted brie and a dreamy fig sauce.