A Taste of Passion. Ashley Lister

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СКАЧАТЬ beneath gingham tablecloths and lacy chintz placemats. Trudy avoided waiters and inhaled the exotic and exciting aromas of a hundred skilfully prepared flavour experiences as she headed towards the washrooms. With her senses still reeling from the overload of the muffin, it felt as though her nostrils were cataloguing each familiar element they now encountered. She caught the thrilling bite of a smoked serrano chilli pepper that was both daunting and tempting. She was momentarily distracted by the blended bouquet of Herbs de Provence, smiling as she identified the delicate balance of thyme, basil, fennel, marjoram and rosemary. Every flavour was sharp, developed to its most efficient, and absurdly appealing. Every sensory experience in the room, save for one, seemed instantly identifiable.

      Trembling from the excess of experience, Trudy hurried into the washroom and closed the door behind her. She splashed water on her cheeks and studied her reflection.

      It had been a momentous day.

      She had received her first class honours degree. The ceremony had been solemn but each commemorating address bristled with the prospect of the tremendous opportunities that now lay ahead. She was with her closest friends and they were discussing their shared plans to make a future together in the catering industry as a joint enterprise called Sweet Temptation. Everything before her brimmed with promise and hope and the potential for success and she refused to let the day be spoilt by the barrier of an enigmatic muffin and a stubborn maître d’.

      Trudy stood over the restroom sink and scowled at her reflection.

      Her short blonde crop had been styled to perfection that morning. It had maintained the majority of its shape, despite the fact that she’d been sat wearing a mortarboard for the best part of three hours. The light make-up she wore remained in place, accentuating the depths of her smoky grey eyes and drawing attention to the cranberry pout of her lips.

      Her resolve hardened.

      No one earned a first class honours degree by accepting refusals. No one achieved anything of worth by simply allowing people to stand in the way. She was going to make a success of Sweet Temptation with Charlotte and Donny and part of being a success would involve pushing herself to break artificial boundaries imposed by those around her. Standing a little taller than before, and making sure every step she took landed with powerful force, Trudy left the washroom and marched back across the dining room to take her seat at the table.

      She had a plan.

      ‘Are you OK, hon?’

      ‘I’m OK,’ Trudy told Charlotte. She considered the remains of the muffin that waited for her. She tore off a crumb and contemplated it thoughtfully. ‘I’m OK. But I’ll say goodnight to you two now.’

      ‘Are you going somewhere?’ Donny asked. ‘We don’t mind going with you.’

      ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Trudy told him. ‘I just figured you two might want to leave. I’ll be staying here until the pâtissier agrees to speak with me.’

      Donny rolled his eyes. He glared at Charlotte. ‘Don’t tell me she’s going to make a scene.’

      Charlotte shook her head. ‘No,’ she assured him. ‘Trudy’s not going to cause a scene. Not again. Not like the Wilkinson incident.’ Turning to Trudy she said, ‘Please don’t do this, hon. Not now. Not today.’

      ‘Please,’ Donny agreed. ‘Tonight of all nights, we should be out celebrating. I’ve got us tickets for Stanzas.’

      Trudy set her jaw. There was no sense explaining that Charlotte and Donny were bringing money and business acumen to their proposed partnership whilst she was only able to contribute the same culinary knowledge they had all learnt whilst studying together. It was an argument they’d had before and she didn’t want to sit through it again. She simply wanted to talk with the kitchen staff and discover the identity of the mystery ingredient from the muffin. Once she knew what it was she would be able to work on reproducing something similar in her own kitchen.

      It wouldn’t be an identical muffin.

      She wouldn’t steal the recipe.

      But she would be able to include that maddening, unidentifiable ingredient.

      ‘I’ll be waiting here until the pâtissier agrees to speak with me,’ Trudy explained. ‘I’ve got no intention of causing a scene. And once the pâtissier has told me everything I want to know, I’ll catch up with the pair of you and we can continue celebrating.’ She frowned and added, ‘Does it have to be Stanzas?’

      Donny looked set to argue but Charlotte held up a hand to silence him. She reached into her purse and withdrew a series of notes.

      Trudy allowed her friend to pay. This meal was Charlotte’s treat. Charlotte could afford the extortionate prices charged at Boui-Boui. Or, to be more accurate, Charlotte’s parents could afford the extortionate prices. As this really was a day for celebrations, Trudy didn’t mind taking advantage of their generosity.

      Donny picked up Trudy’s mobile from the table and squinted at the screen. ‘You’re low on power.’

      ‘I have a spare battery in my bag. If there’s an emergency, if I need anything, I can give you a call.’

      He squeezed her shoulder. The gesture was reassuringly fraternal. She caught the refreshing zesty scent of his CK1 cologne. It was a smell she knew and trusted and she caught herself smiling as she inhaled. The smell of Donny was always comforting.

      ‘Congratulations again,’ Charlotte said, pecking Trudy lightly on the cheek. ‘The first was deserved. You’re one of the most talented chefs I know.’

      ‘I will make this work for us,’ Trudy promised. Her gaze went frantically from Charlotte to Donny and then back again as she tried to impart the sincerity of her claim. ‘I will make this work for us. You know that, don’t you?’

      ‘I don’t doubt it, hon.’

      And then Charlotte and Donny were gone and Trudy was alone at the table.

      The maître d’ appeared by her side. If she was puzzled to find Trudy alone her expression didn’t register any surprise. ‘Will there be anything else?’

      Trudy gestured at the plate before her.

      ‘I’d like to speak with the pâtissier responsible for this muffin.’

      The maître d’ frowned. ‘I thought I made this clear before. The restaurant policy is quite specific on this matter. Patrons are not entitled to recipes or private discussions with members of the kitchen team. It’s simply not our policy here and I apologise if –’

      ‘I’ll wait,’ Trudy said. She put the final crumb of muffin into her mouth and then smiled against the thinly concealed glower worn by the maître d’. Chewing quickly before swallowing Trudy added, ‘Please may I have another of these citrus and blueberry muffins whilst I’m waiting?’

       Chapter 3

      An hour passed. The maître d’ paused three times at Trudy’s table. Each time she paused the exchange they shared was always СКАЧАТЬ