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I quickly finished jotting down a few words to remind me of what he’d said. Then, as I got up to join the flow of students who were leaving the class, Chef Mac came up alongside me.
“I was wondering if you’d given any consideration to that competition,” he said.
“Sure,” I said, “I’d be a fool not to.”
“Good,” he said. “I do hate to see talent go to waste. I really think you could have a shot at winning this.”
“I’ll certainly do my best,” I said.
“You know,” he went on, his hand gently coming to take a hold of my elbow as he accompanied me to the door. “I’d be happy to help you out if you need it... you know, like a coach. Or maybe just a sounding board. Talk it out with me, see what ideas you have. Discuss possible recipes and of course, how to season.”
Surprised by the offer, I looked at him. “Really?”
“Sure,” he said. “I’d be happy to. I love seeing my students succeed.”
“That would be great.”
“You can come and try out your recipes at my place. I live not too far away, just off campus. It would be quiet and calm. The perfect setting for a rising star.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I said.
“Say yes.”
“Yes,” I said with a smile. How could I refuse such a great offer?
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a card. “That’s my home address,” he said as he handed it to me. “And my phone number if ever you need to reach me.”
“Good. Great.”
“How does tomorrow morning sound?”
“Perfect.”
“Does nine o’clock sound fair?”
“I’ll be there.”
I left the class, thrilled by the prospect of working intimately with Chef Mac. In fact, I was so excited, that after gathering up the ingredients that I would need for my recipe, I went to bed early, slept soundly and woke up as the sun rose and prepared for the day.
I took a quick shower, washed my hair then put on a cute little red summer dress with tiny white dots.
Not really wanting to discuss the matter, I was happy to see that Kat hadn’t gotten up yet. Not that I had anything to hide, but I didn’t want to get into the time I would be spending with Chef Mac. Not yet.
I quietly packed my food into two canvas bags and slipped out of the dorm room, then headed out to find Chef Mac’s home.
I left the campus and walked down a pretty little tree-lined street. Homes were set far back from the street, with generous green lawns and well-trimmed hedges.
Reaching the address on the card, I found a quaint two story brick home with green shutters at the windows and bright yellow flowers dotting the pathway to the door.
As I walked up to the door, I could hear from inside the gentle sounds of classical violins and other strings.
Hmmm. Why wasn’t I surprised to find that he listened to classical music?
Setting one of my bags down, I rang the doorbell and waited.
Moments later, the door opened.
“Layla,” Chef Mac said with surprise. Scratching his head, he looked at me with bleary eyes.
