Love Me Crazy

13. I Dare You To Dare

"Honey...it's one o'clock in the afternoon. How late did you get home from prom?"

...Oh great. Morning had arrived. Or afternoon, I suppose.

My eyes were encrusted in sleep.

Slowly lifting myself up, I drowsily watched as my mother began to pick up dirty clothes off my bedroom floor. I could feel make-up caked on my face and my tangled curls. My prom dress was lying at the end of my bed.

I rubbed my eyes and smiled.

What a night.

What a night...for everything.

"Mary, are you going to answer me?"

I looked to the doorway. My mother's hands were on her hips. She was frowning.

"I...I got home late. Around my curfew."

"Around your curfew?" she muttered, "What does that mean?"

With a big yawn, I stepped out of my bed and shrugged. I walked to my closet and began to pick out some clothes. Where were my skinny jeans...?

"Around my curfew, I guess," I mumbled, grinning when I identified my pants.

"Well aren't you going to tell me how it went?" my mother beleaguered.

I glanced at her, beaming. "I'm going to see Leon at the restaurant. How's that an answer for you?"

"Chef Roma! Chef Roma!"

"Ah, Miss Brighton. How are you?!" the giant man asked as he exited the kitchen.

"I'm well," I said with a giggle, actually feeling like what my lips was saying, "Is um...is Leon here? I know the restaurant doesn't open till three today but-"

"Oh no! He's here. The only chef here right now. So dedicated. You can go back and see him."

"Thank you."

Moving past the table and chairs in the empty Tuscan Bistro, I opened the kitchen doors to the restaurant and peeked inside. I always loved Sundays at the bistro. The restaurant didn't open till mid-afternoon which meant I didn't have to deal with the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. I could just enter unnoticed.

Walking fully into the kitchen, I noticed a few lobsters and shrimps on the huge stainless steal counter. A few herbs and spices were situated on a cutting board at the far end. Also, two pots were boiling something delicious on the stove.

I paced to the other side of the kitchen. With my curiosity no longer able to remain suppressed, I slowly began to peek into the pots.

It smelt like-

"Hey you," I heard from behind.

Turning abruptly around, I saw Leon. He was in his chef's uniform holding two large knives. He set them on the counter as he walked around to stand beside me. He chuckled.

"Mary...have you been messing with my chicken stock?"

I shook my head, moving away from the stove. "No, I swear!"

"I think you have," he retorted in a singing voice.

"I didn't," I said with a grin, "Just taste it. It will still taste like perfection."

Grabbing a spoon from the nearest drawer, Leon dipped it in the pot, scooped out some broth, and took a slurp. He smirked.

"Fine...your nasty little hands didn't touch it. But I'm watching you."

I snickered, leaning back as I propped myself up on the counter. Swinging my legs back and forth, I observed as Leon began to prepare other food in the kitchen. He started by chopping off the lobster's heads and then went on to ripping off the tails of the shrimp. He was so efficient when he worked. And so quick. I couldn't even possibly dream of moving as quickly as he did. Within five minutes, he had already finished ten lobsters and thirty shrimp.