Unbreak My Heart

13. Mediocre

Jacob's POV

I loved watching Amara in the kitchen—concentrating on making her dishes—lost to those around her. Whenever she was focused on her work, she bit the inside of her left cheek and knitted her eyebrows. 

But something was different about her today, her body language was off and tense.  She kept tapping her right hand on her upper thigh as she looked at the ingredients laid out on her work station, then wrote on a piece of paper in front of her. 

One of the first things I had noticed about her, was how much the kitchen suited her— she belonged here— this was where she was always calm and collected. I could see it from the first kitchen challenge we held. Cooking wasn’t just a career for her, it was her passion; something we had in common.

It was why I could tell something was amiss today. She was on edge and I wondered if it was because she hadn’t prepared well for this test, but when I walked around the room, on closer inspection, I could see the exhaustion in her eyes.

Was she working late last night?! 

The one thing I made very clear to Amara and Beth was that her job doesn't interfere with her school work. That meant that she should get enough rest and focus on school, but the woman I was looking at right was far from well-rested and focused. 

As the  first and second course tasting commenced, I found myself looking forward to eating her food more. I wondered if her food would reflect her mood, as I learnt while in France that our energy often reflects in our cooking. It was something I had to learn and keep in mind, detaching my energy from my cooking.

When I tried her main dish, all I tasted was mediocrity. Had I not seen her cooking, I would have thought this meal was prepared by someone else. The flavours were all there, but the chicken was a bit dry and the entire meal lacked creativity— it didn't tell a story and it was too simple. 

It was something I expected someone like Jemma to cook at home after a long day at work. What made Amara’s dishes stand out  from other students was her ability to take you down memory lane coupled with the authenticity in her food.

Though I was let down by her main course, her dessert was simply the best I tasted today. Initially, when she presented it to the judges, I had mixed feelings. I felt she could have done more as I observed the ice cream, but as soon as I took a spoonful, I knew it was the best thing here. 

I never knew fig and goat cheese could go that well together, much less as an ice cream. The consistency wasn't overturned or too sweet, it was a perfect blend of sweet and savory in a bowl.

Later as we tallied our scores for all students, a few of us agreed that Amara's dessert was heavenly, but wasn't enough to put her in our top three. I was disappointed, and wondered if giving her a job at my restaurant was a good idea, but I knew if I fired her she would look for work elsewhere.

Today her cooking was adequate at best and Amara fucking Scott was anything, but mediocre

            ~~~~~~~~~~😡~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know what I was expecting when I followed the sound of the music, but it definitely wasn’t this. Even before she turned around, I instantly knew who was dancing with a broom. 

I could pinpoint Amara's backside with my eyes closed—it had been burned into memory since that night at Red Stilettos. The way she swayed her hips made the blood rush to my groin I was having  thoughts a teacher should never have for their students. 

I took a deep breath, hoping to take control of my body, but my mind couldn’t stop overworking. I pictured her dancing the way she was, but without the uniform she was wearing now, and her hair free from the ponytail, dancing for my eyes alone.