Read Online The Devil Served Desire by Shirley Jump - Free Book Online
Authors: Shirley Jump
Tags: Romance, Cooking, New York Times Bestselling Author, recipes, Comedy, Chef, Boston, USA Today Bestselling Author, dieting, pasta
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leave him struggling once again. Too many people depended on Dante for him to direct his attention anywhere but within these two thousand square feet.
"I didn't touch the oven once," Vinny said when Dante entered the kitchen. Behind him, the swinging door slapped softly back and forth, slowly coming to a stop. "I didn't even look at the flames. I swear."
"Good. Did you get the veal braised?"
"As even as Pamela Anderson's tan."
"Risotto started?"
"Simmering like an August day." Vinny gestured toward the plates lined up along the stainless steel counter. "And I've got ten orders up, ready to go."
"Great." Dante slipped on his chef hat and tied his apron around his waist. "I'm counting on you, Vinny. Don't screw up."
"I won't." He toed at the floor. "I just want to say—" and he started to sniffle.
"Don't start, Vinny. Come on, we've got work to do." Dante gave him a light jab in the shoulder. "Buck up."
"I gotta say it, Boss. Please." More sniffles.
Vinny had an emotion control problem. He felt everything in extremes. He didn't laugh, he guffawed. He didn't get angry, he blew up. And he didn't sympathize, he broke down into sobbing. "Go ahead, but don't get yourself all worked up."
The sous chef nodded and swallowed hard. "Thanks for-for-for—" and he dissolved into tears, draping his head and arms across Dante's shoulders.
Dante patted at the younger man's back. "Vin, you're gonna make the rice salty. Don't cry."
"You're the only one who would give me a job," he mumbled through the tears, "and after all I did, you let me keep my job, and my kid needs shoes and now, she's gonna have them." And then he was off again, tears racing down his face.
"Vin. Vin. Vin! " Dante waited until Vinny had lifted his head and met his gaze. "It's all right. I forgave the fire thing—well, let's say I got over it. You concentrate on cooking. You're a good chef; stick with that."
"Yeah, Boss. I will." Vinny swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "You ever need anything, though, a car, a new stereo, a TV, you come to the Vin-man."
"You promised me," Dante said, pointing at Vinny's chest "you'd give up that life when you came to work for me."
"I did! I got friends who have friends, you know. And I'll take care of you, the way you took care of me."
"Then stir the risotto before it sticks to the pan."
The kitchen door swung open and Rochelle, his head waitress, bustled in, an empty tray balanced in her hand. "Shit it's busy out there. My ass is burning." She shoved her hip against a counter and heaved a deep breath, running a hand over her tight nearly shaved black hair.
"Hey, Rochelle," Vinny asked from his position by the risotto. "How's that TV working that my cousin got you?"
"The remote eats batteries like they're candy, but it's good. My ma says she never knew the people on General Hospital came in colors other than green."
"Good. You need a stereo, you come to me. I'll—" He cast a quick glance at Dante. "I'll, ah, get my cousin to hook you up."
"Yeah, sure, Vin." Rochelle stretched a kink out of her back, then reached for the plates of food and began covering them with silver warming covers. "What the hell happened to this place? I like busy, but this is ridiculous."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Dante said. "George Whitman could find another 'delight' tomorrow."
"Well, he better not do it too soon. Ma's meds went up again. Damn doctors prescribe things like money grows on the freaking moon. They must think I got some unlimited trust fund." She shoved herself upright again and started loading the covered plates onto her tray. "Honey, I ain't even got trust for my man, never mind no fund."
With the risotto back under control, Vinny discreetly headed off to the storage closet to replenish some of the spices. Dante could hear him still sniffling a little in the back room.
"Isn't Medicaid picking up the increase?"
Rochelle turned and gave him a face that told Dante exactly what she thought of Medicaid. "Hell, no.
"I didn't touch the oven once," Vinny said when Dante entered the kitchen. Behind him, the swinging door slapped softly back and forth, slowly coming to a stop. "I didn't even look at the flames. I swear."
"Good. Did you get the veal braised?"
"As even as Pamela Anderson's tan."
"Risotto started?"
"Simmering like an August day." Vinny gestured toward the plates lined up along the stainless steel counter. "And I've got ten orders up, ready to go."
"Great." Dante slipped on his chef hat and tied his apron around his waist. "I'm counting on you, Vinny. Don't screw up."
"I won't." He toed at the floor. "I just want to say—" and he started to sniffle.
"Don't start, Vinny. Come on, we've got work to do." Dante gave him a light jab in the shoulder. "Buck up."
"I gotta say it, Boss. Please." More sniffles.
Vinny had an emotion control problem. He felt everything in extremes. He didn't laugh, he guffawed. He didn't get angry, he blew up. And he didn't sympathize, he broke down into sobbing. "Go ahead, but don't get yourself all worked up."
The sous chef nodded and swallowed hard. "Thanks for-for-for—" and he dissolved into tears, draping his head and arms across Dante's shoulders.
Dante patted at the younger man's back. "Vin, you're gonna make the rice salty. Don't cry."
"You're the only one who would give me a job," he mumbled through the tears, "and after all I did, you let me keep my job, and my kid needs shoes and now, she's gonna have them." And then he was off again, tears racing down his face.
"Vin. Vin. Vin! " Dante waited until Vinny had lifted his head and met his gaze. "It's all right. I forgave the fire thing—well, let's say I got over it. You concentrate on cooking. You're a good chef; stick with that."
"Yeah, Boss. I will." Vinny swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "You ever need anything, though, a car, a new stereo, a TV, you come to the Vin-man."
"You promised me," Dante said, pointing at Vinny's chest "you'd give up that life when you came to work for me."
"I did! I got friends who have friends, you know. And I'll take care of you, the way you took care of me."
"Then stir the risotto before it sticks to the pan."
The kitchen door swung open and Rochelle, his head waitress, bustled in, an empty tray balanced in her hand. "Shit it's busy out there. My ass is burning." She shoved her hip against a counter and heaved a deep breath, running a hand over her tight nearly shaved black hair.
"Hey, Rochelle," Vinny asked from his position by the risotto. "How's that TV working that my cousin got you?"
"The remote eats batteries like they're candy, but it's good. My ma says she never knew the people on General Hospital came in colors other than green."
"Good. You need a stereo, you come to me. I'll—" He cast a quick glance at Dante. "I'll, ah, get my cousin to hook you up."
"Yeah, sure, Vin." Rochelle stretched a kink out of her back, then reached for the plates of food and began covering them with silver warming covers. "What the hell happened to this place? I like busy, but this is ridiculous."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Dante said. "George Whitman could find another 'delight' tomorrow."
"Well, he better not do it too soon. Ma's meds went up again. Damn doctors prescribe things like money grows on the freaking moon. They must think I got some unlimited trust fund." She shoved herself upright again and started loading the covered plates onto her tray. "Honey, I ain't even got trust for my man, never mind no fund."
With the risotto back under control, Vinny discreetly headed off to the storage closet to replenish some of the spices. Dante could hear him still sniffling a little in the back room.
"Isn't Medicaid picking up the increase?"
Rochelle turned and gave him a face that told Dante exactly what she thought of Medicaid. "Hell, no.
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