Not in my Job Description - Avery Clavens Book 1

Chapter 15 - Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah

We arrived back at the apartment and carried the groceries to the kitchen. I told Nate to go find something to watch on TV while I got everything organized. Before I started, I grabbed my frilly pink apron, put it over my head and tied it around my waist. Without it, I would’ve ended up having to change clothes later and with Nate in the building that didn’t sound like a good idea.

Once I had the ingredients all grouped together for their dishes, I decided making the cupcakes first would be the best idea. I flipped the oven on to get it preheating. With just the two of us, I elected to make only a dozen, so I did the needed calculations to scale down the recipe.

I placed the necessary butter and sugar in the mixer and let it beat until they were nice and fluffy. A couple of cracked eggs were add to the mix along with a splash of vanilla and almond extracts. Finishing off by alternating the dry ingredients with some milk, the batter was ready.

I lined my cupcake tins with foil wrappers and filled the cups three-quarters of the way full. I placed them in the oven and set the timer for eighteen minutes. Remembering that I was making kabobs, I soaked some skewers in water so they wouldn’t catch fire when I broiled them.

Once they were set, I turned my attention to whipping the two varieties of frosting. I ran a very tight kitchen, so moving from task to task was second nature to me.

“Hey, thought I should come in and make sure you didn’t already have a stock pile of rat poison under the sink,” Nate said, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

“No rat poison, but I’m sure I could find something under there to add to your food if you’re going to be lippy.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked. “You’re making enough to feed an army, surely there’s a little something I can do.”

“You’re supposed to be finding something to watch on TV.”

“That’s what you told me to do, but you can’t fault a guy for wanting to spend more time with you. I figure if you put me to work, it’d be less irritating than me just staring at you.”

“Have you had a psych eval done recently? I’d highly suggest one when you get back to Chicago. If you’re willing to work, I need these mushrooms brushed off with a towel. Then you can remove and discard their stems while I make the stuffing for them.” I passed the mushrooms and a towel over.

“What do you want me to do with them when I’m done?”

“Just put them on that cookie sheet to your left, top down, so they’re ready for me to fill.”

“No problem,” he said, going right to work.

I watched him for a few moments. For as large as his hands were, I was surprised how delicately he scrubbed the dirt away from the caps.

Before I started on the filling for the mushrooms, I went ahead and made the cocktail sauce, so the flavors had some time to blend together. In a bowl, I combined some ketchup, horseradish sauce, garlic powder, lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce. It didn’t need anything more than a stir to be ready. That done, I placed it in the fridge and selected a medium sized glass bowl for the mushroom stuffing.

“How do you know how much to use?” Nate asked. “I’ve been sitting here watching you and you just pour things in; you look so natural in the kitchen.”

“I’ve been cooking as long as I can remember, so I’m pretty good at measuring with my eyes.”

“And just how far back do you remember?”

I didn’t think my statement warranted that follow up question, since I’d meant it as a figure of speech. While I thought about it for a second, I put my stuffing ingredients into the bowl. A little mixing until smooth and it was ready for the mushrooms. Looking over, I saw Nate was on the last mushroom, so I waited while he finished up.