Served Cold and Done Right
Language: en
I took a private chef gig that paid an obscene four thousand dollars an hour. The client was a young girl, fresh-faced and flush with someone else’s cash. Her only requirement was that the meal had to look and taste like elevated, soulful home cooking. "My boyfriend teased me for not knowing my way around a kitchen. I absolutely have to prove him wrong!" she had chirped over the phone. "But honestly, I’m a disaster. I nearly set the kitchen on fire just trying to boil pasta. Thank God I'm spending his money, so it doesn't hurt. You have to save me, Chef Harper!" My boyfriend, Carter, was a…