Worth the Risk

previously. Other desserts have to be put together when the order hits the kitchen.”
    “We better let you get back to work,” Brad told Charmayne.
    “Thanks,” Amber said. “Look for me this summer.”
    After they left the pastry kitchen they passed another bank of computers where a young man was working. “This is the check station,” Brad said. “The final bill showing all you’ve ordered is printed out here. The cash and credit cards are processed here by one person—Jake.”
    “That would be me,” the young man said with a bow.
    “Why one person?” Lexi asked.
    “There’s a lot of credit card fraud these days,” Brad told them. “When you allow all the waiters to use the machines, one bad apple could be using a swiper to record the card numbers. This way just one trusted person is responsible.”
    They arrived at their table just as Tiffany and a helper brought their lunches. They were silent for a few minutes while they began to eat. Lexi waited for Amber to give her opinion first.
    “This red wave lettuce salad is scrumptious.” She munched enthusiastically. “It’s bound to be a hit. Watch your computer and see.”
    “What do you think?” Brad asked Lexi, catching her off guard.
    “I agree. The blend of flavors really works.”
    “Honest?” He kept aiming his blue eyes at her, making her even more uncomfortable.
    “Absolutely,” she assured him as a warm flush crept up her neck.
    “How did you come up with it?” asked Amber, oblivious to the intimate moment between them. “I know we suggested the lettuce and the baby squash, but I think you made your own dressing and marinated the chicken in lime and something, right?”
    “Correct. I had to experiment a lot because this is my first Asian-fusion salad. I wanted a simple dressing that wouldn’t taste like some kid’s chemistry experiment.”
    Amber giggled. “This salad dressing is great. I taste…balsamic vinegar.”
    Brad nodded. “Balsamic vinegar from Spain infused with ginger. I use the KISS method. Keep It Simple Stupid. Balsamic vinegar, ginger, Vietnamese herbs and—”
    “Sesame oil not olive oil.”
    “You’ve got a knack for taste,” Brad said with an approving smile. “Sesame oil is best in this salad. It allows the unique Asian flavor to come through.”
    “You marinated the chicken before it was grilled.” Amber speared a sliver as she spoke.
    “Again. Keeping it simple is the secret of most chefs’ success. I marinated the chicken in lime juice for an hour before draining it and patting it dry. Too many people use enough marinade to pickle a bull and leave it on too long. An hour, two, tops, for chicken, or it gets mushy and all you taste is the marinade.”
    “I’ll remember that.”
    “What did you think of my kitchen?” Brad asked Amber.
    “Hectic. Much more frantic than I imagined.” She played with her fork for a moment. “But it was really exciting. Not boring like some jobs.”
    I told you so, Lexi silently said to Brad.
    “Most people in a kitchen work for minimum wage,” Brad added. “It’s stressful and pays poorly.”
    “Not the sous-chef or executive chef or pastry chef.”
    “True,” Brad conceded, “but that’s a few people out of—what?—two dozen.”
    “I want to be one of the few,” Amber assured him. “You know, the few, the proud, the brave. Like the Marines.”
    Lexi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead she nearly choked when she looked up and saw Rick Fullerton, executive chef from Marché, heading toward their table.
    “Out slumming, Fullerton?” Brad greeted his competitor.
    “Hello, Lexi,” Rick said to her.
    “Hi,” she managed to reply in what could pass for a level voice. Rick was her biggest customer. He personally picked out produce from her garden twice a week. She’d never had enough money to eat at his restaurant. How could she explain being here?
    “Actually,” Rick said with a barely perceptible smile, “I came to try your special salad. I’m hearing great things about it.”
    “It’s fabulous,” Amber said. “Lexi gave Brad the idea.”
    Lexi had the urge to dive under the table.
    “Interesting.”
    She didn’t like the sound of Rick’s voice. She hoped she hadn’t lost her best customer over a lunch that had done absolutely nothing to change her sister’s mind about pursuing a career as a chef.

Chapter 6
    “You’re not going to believe this!” cried Amber.
    Lexi was stooped over a row of baby squash and