“I think you’ll really like her. She impressed me during our initial interview in Portland.”
A car pulled up out front and a woman got out. She was tall, slender, with long blond hair pulled into a high ponytail. She was wearing jeans that fit tight to her body, killer high heels that made her legs look miles long, and a silk blouse that ruffled in the wind outside.
Flynn couldn’t believe that was Amelia, but when she pulled the door open, it couldn’t be anyone but her. He supposed he had a different picture in his mind of this accomplished chef. He figured she’d be older, though he had no idea why. This cool beautiful woman was about his age.
He and Ken stood.
“Amelia,” Ken said, walking over to shake her hand. “Great to see you again.”
She gave him a generous smile. “It’s good to see you, too, Ken.”
“And this is Flynn Cassidy.”
She turned to him, giving him more of a polite smile as she held out her hand. “Amelia Lawrence.”
“Nice to meet you, Amelia.”
“Same here. Thank you for inviting me to interview.”
“I’ve heard good things about you. You have an impressive résumé.”
“Thank you.”
They went through her background as a chef, from her education to her work experience. Flynn had already read that on her résumé, and Ken had discussed it extensively with him, but it was good to hear it from Amelia.
“Beyond the education and work experience, I’ve been cooking since I was a child. My mother was an avid cook and allowed me to be in the kitchen with her. Much of my love of cooking came from her. She allowed me to experiment from an early age, to try my hand at creating different dishes. It was that freedom of culinary expression that gave me my love of food and the desire to become a chef.”
Flynn smiled. “I cooked a lot with my mom, too.”
She arched a brow. “Really.”
Not the first time he’d been met with an incredulous look like that. “You think football players spend all their time either on the field, in a club or playing football video games. But you’d be wrong. Which isn’t surprising given that the media plays up that aspect of players. As far as it relates to me, the reason I’m opening up this restaurant has a lot to do with my love for food.”
“I’ll be honest with you. I thought you were just in it for the money and the name aspect.”
“And I appreciate your honesty. But you’re wrong about me.”
“I wouldn’t have come to work for Flynn if he was some dumb jock only in it to stick his name on a restaurant,” Ken said. “That’s not what I’m about, either.”
Amelia nodded. “Okay. I’m glad to know that.”
He got the idea she was still withholding her opinion about him. Not that he much cared. She didn’t need to like him. She just needed to be a kick-ass chef.
They talked for a while about Flynn’s planned setup for the restaurant, but didn’t get into too many details about the menu. He wanted to wait to see if Amelia would be a good fit before they started planning it out.
“What would you think about cooking for me tonight?”
She looked around. “I wouldn’t mind it, but you’re not exactly set up here for a demonstration, are you?”
His lips curved. “Not yet. I was thinking about you cooking dinner at my place. My brother and his girlfriend are in town for the weekend. I was going to cook for them tonight, but since you’re here, and if you’re available tonight, you could come over.”
“I’d be happy to.”
“Great.” Flynn looked over at Ken. “Ken? Are you available?”
“Sorry. Adam’s brother’s engagement party is tonight, so we have to go to that.”
“Oh, that’s right, I forgot about that. You two have a great time.”
“Thanks, we will.” Ken turned to Amelia. “But I have no doubt whatever you cook up will be fantastic.”
They talked awhile longer about Ken’s husband, Adam, whom Amelia had met when Ken and Adam had flown up to Portland so Ken could do Amelia’s initial interview.
Amelia gave Flynn her phone number and she got his along with his address. She told him she’d bring the food for tonight.
“If you text me a grocery list, I’ll have the food at the house,” Flynn said.
She shook her head. “If you don’t mind, I’ll do the shopping. It’s important that I choose the ingredients myself. Plus, I need to prepare a few things in advance. So I’ll bring it with me.”
“Isn’t that kind of inconvenient, with you staying at a hotel?”
“I’m actually staying with some people I know, so there will be a kitchen for me to do advance prep.”
Flynn finally shrugged. “Up to you. You’re the chef.”
“Thanks.”
They said their good-byes and she called for a car and left.
“What do you think?” Ken asked.
“Not sure yet. She’s a little quiet. Seems . . . I don’t know.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what to think about her.”
“Trust me, Flynn. She’s competent, she’s not temperamental and she doesn’t throw pots and pans around.”
Flynn laughed. “You only see those types of chefs on TV.”
Ken slid him a look. “You’d like to think so, but I’ve worked in this business a long time and those kinds of chefs do exist.”