Read Online Sizzling in Singapore (A Carnal Cuisine Novel) by K.C. Falls, Torri D. Cooke - Free Book Online Page A

culinary work. There are minions of all stripes to get the basics out of the way for the big guns. Nick sometimes wondered if knife skills were like bike-riding—once learned, never forgotten. Occasionally, in the Elysium, San Francisco he stepped up to the sauté station for some line work, but it had probably been ten years since he chopped an onion or sliced mushrooms. Even if he cooked for himself, more often than not it was in the hotel kitchen and he availed himself of the mise en place waiting for him in the walk-in cooler.
    He flipped on the light over the prep counter and plopped a cutting board onto a kitchen towel to prevent it from slipping. Rather than rooting around in the office for his personal knives, he grabbed one from the knife rack and tested the blade against his thumb. It was a cheap knife, but it was sharp enough.
    The walk-ins were lined up on one side of the kitchen and locked when the last regular left the kitchen at the end of the dinner shift. It was corporate policy to remove the temptation to pilfer expensive ingredients. Of course, everyone knew it still happened that cooks and chefs left with a pocket full of pine nuts or a nice steak tucked into a folded jacket, but food costs being what they were, at least no one could return to the larder late at night and empty it.
    The kitchen was unnatural in its quiet. There was a faint chorus of hums from the various refrigeration units but without the raucous crew, the banging cookware and the ever-audible and never idle dishwashers, the place seemed eerie and very much like the dream he was trying to forget.
    Nick fumbled with his still unfamiliar keys and found the one to the produce locker. He opened the heavy door and flipped on the light. Finding two nice baskets of crimini mushrooms that he knew would be used in several ways that day, he decided that slicing them would be just the therapy he needed. Mushrooms are small, slippery and should be sliced paper-thin. It was one of the more challenging items a cook finds in the produce basket and it takes skill to do the task quickly and efficiently.
    Arms full of mushrooms, Nick heeled the heavy door shut and took them back to the prep table. He thought he heard a tha-wump behind him and decided it was just the latch on the cooler snapping back into place. The street shoes he wore made an odd sound tapping across the floor as he rounded into the prep room at the kitchen's back. He grabbed an apron from the linen-bag and set to work on the little caps. He worked a bit more slowly than top speed at first.
    I am totally out of practice. I used to do this twice as fast and not even have to look at my hands. Now I need to watch every move these big paws make. I can't wait 'til this gig ends. I have to get out of this 'exec'crap. It's gonna ruin me. Chop, chop, chop. Nick's hands began to pick up their pace. That's the way, Nicky-boy. Just like riding a bicycle. You'll be running your own little show soon. Just you and a couple of dudes on the line. Sweet.
    The knife rocked steadily against the cutting board and the echo against the metal prep table sang through the empty kitchen. Bangbangbangbangbang. Each stroke nearly perfectly matching the last. This was the kind of music Nick adored. Bangbangbangbangbang. Tha-wump. Bangbangbangbangbang. Tha-WUMP.
    This time Nick was sure he heard something. It wasn't his knife and it wasn't anyone slamming a door, because he was still very much alone. He put the knife down, wiped his hands on his apron and strained to hear the noise again. Tha-wump. It was faint and sounded like someone was banging from inside one of the walk-ins. Nick hurried over to the other side of the kitchen where the coolers lined up against the wall. Tha-wump. It was coming from the meat locker!
    Nick fumbled with his keys again and it seemed to take forever to find the one that fit the walk-in's lock. He jerked the door open and a small figure slumped out at his feet and onto the kitchen