The Coffee Date

Chapter 23 - Meet Chefs

They both made a beeline for the kitchen.

The moment the two had gotten home they had dropped their baggage at the door and darted, ripping the tools and ingredients they needed out of cupboards and out of drawers in a mad dash to organize the feast they so urgently needed to prepair.

"Fish?"

Hazel nodded, humming a quick "mh hm" before darting to the cabinet to the left of his kitchen sink. She ripped out multiple ingredients, followed by a swift dash to the fridge. "Angel cake?"

"Sounds good."

As usual, they seemed to communicate best without words.

Nathan snagged some lettuce from the fridge, chopping, dicing it, and throwing it into a bowl Hazel had brought out for him. Next, he ripped a cucumber, pepper, and 2 tomatoes from the fridge, and slid forwards an avocado resting on the counter. He chopped everything, tossing it into the bowl as he finished. Then, without hesitation, he snagged the packaged fish from the fridge and began creating its marinade.

Meanwhile, Hazel had grabbed an apron from the side of the room and threw it on, smiling to herself at the size of it against her body. Clearly it was designed for a Nathan. Not a Hazel.

Just as quickly as she had reached her station she began tossing different ingredients into a large bowl. Eggs, sugar, flour, vanilla. Hazel threw it all in and mixed faster than she ever had in her life, desperate to finish it well and to impress. She needed to be fast, but precise. Quick, but skilled. It was stressful. To be fair the entire situation was stressful let alone her baking. She had one night to prove to his father and herself that they deserved to work together. To convince him to allow it. To convince him of what they already knew. What was already apparent to them.

No. No pressure at all.

A while had passed and Nathan, too focused on his own work to notice her stressing, watched as she stepped forwards, taking a full container of batter and setting it beside the oven, snapping the appropriate temperature on. "It's 400, right? For the fish?"

Nathan turned to his side, watching as Hazel pressed the different buttons against his stove, setting it to preheat for their meal.

She had already finished making the cake batter.

Clearly a skilled cook.

"Yeah, that's it." He said softly, quietly in awe of the speed at which she had done it.

He paused his work, however, to watch how she moved about the kitchen. The way she chewed her lip. The way she whisked the batter and set it back against the counter. The messy way she nervously played with her hair before throwing it in a bun atop her head. The way she scoured the ingredient list, glancing around her surface to make sure she had gotten everything.

She was nervous. Nervous about impressing his father.

A pit of agony burned in his chest at the sight. Even the mere threat of his father was enough to send her into a anxious mess. He was surprised her lip wasn't bleeding based on the amount she was chewing it. Out of everything she had to be worrying about, his father should be the least of her worries. Yet his presence and the pressure he associated with it brought her all the agony she would ever need.

"Hazel?" He called softly, tugging her eyes away from scanning the recipe for the third time and instead allowing her eyes to rest upon his own. "Would you mind making the dressing for the salad for me?"

She blinked in surprise, turning to her finished batter and then to the naked salad. She nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course I can."

Immediately, she scurried back to the cupboard filled with ingredients. She tugged out some oils and dressings, along with spices and herbs as he slid their main course into the oven. So many things Nathan had wished he could use more. But didn't. He was too worked under his father's palm to do anything for himself. He rarely ever got to be in his kitchen. Bustling around and baking. He had nobody to do it for, after all.