Chapter Twenty-Eight

"P ink, huh?" Chef Mike asked as they watched the timer for the fryer count down the last few seconds. "I'm not sure I like it better than the green."

"Kinda reminds me of sweet-and-sour sauce," Emmett said from Kendall's other side. "What's this one called?"

Ecstasy . But Kendall wasn't ready to share the name yet. It was just too personal. "I want to get your impressions first."

The kitchen doors swung open and Drew rushed in. "Am I too late?" he asked, loosening his tie. "I had a meeting with my banker, and he was especially chatty. Wouldn't stop talking about Burkhart and Jones." Kendall averted his eyes to the timer so no one would see his reaction to hearing Stan's name in one of his safe spaces. "I get why he wanted to assure me his firm wasn't robbing me blind, but geez."

The timer went off, silencing the conversation for the small group gathered in the kitchen. Kendall had chosen the slowest period of the day to do a test run of his latest creation, which meant several staff members had time to spare.

"Pink, huh?" Drew asked. "Guessing what the next color will be is almost as fun as tasting the sauce."

"I think someone is in his feels," Emmett said, nudging Kendall with his elbow.

"Love is a wonderful inspiration for food and art," Mike said as he coated the wings in the sauce.

When he finished, everyone took a wing and sank their teeth into the crisp skin. Kendall grinned as the collective group reacted to the flavor profile.

"Oh, it is sweet," Emmett said.

Mike nodded, then his eyes widened. "Oh, there it is."

Drew smiled as he chewed another bite. "The heat starts slow and toys with you a little before building to a big finish."

Like sex with Ridge. Ecstasy .

Emmett reached for the last wing and got his hand smacked by Mike. "What?"

"Go find something to do," the chef said.

Drew snagged the last wing and held it up in victory. "I'll just take this off your hands and end any fighting before it can start."

Emmett leaned in close. "If he weren't the boss, I'd sucker punch him and take the wing." He winked at Kendall. "You did damn good. That sauce could become addictive." Like sex with Ridge .

"Thanks," Kendall replied. He always loved pleasing his coworkers and club patrons, but their praise had a more profound effect when his creations were spawned by something so deeply personal.

The group disbanded once the chicken was gone, leaving Kendall, Drew, and Mike alone to chat.

"I don't care if it's pink," Mike said. "That's your best sauce yet."

Drew licked the tips of two fingers before Mike tossed a damp towel at him. "I agree. What's the name?"

Kendall averted his gaze and used the tip of his shoe to trace the grout line between floor tiles. "It's a little embarrassing. Not sure I want to put the name I came up with on the menu."

"No problem," Mike said, scanning the ingredient list. "I'll come up with a name based on a single ingredient and the flavor profile."

"Thanks, Mike."

Drew scanned the recipe too and looked at Kendall with a raised brow. "Pineapple juice?"

Kendall smiled and nodded. He thought it was quite possibly the most underrated fruit of them all.

"I know you're not on the clock right now, but do you have a few minutes to chat?" Drew asked.

"Sure."

They chatted about trivial things until they were alone in Drew's office. "I want to hear how you feel about the job. It was a pretty big change for you all of a sudden."

"I've learned I'm better at some things than I realized and need to step up my game in areas I thought would come more naturally to my personality."

"From where I sit, you're doing a wonderful job. I'm very pleased you accepted my offer," Drew said.

"Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity so much and didn't want you to regret your decision."

Drew leaned back in his chair and studied him closely. "I sense you're still not comfortable in the new role. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"I just don't think managing people is in my wheelhouse. It doesn't come naturally to me."

"We'll agree to disagree on that one," Drew replied. "I think you might be judging yourself too harshly."

"Possibly. I'm just not convinced this is what I want to still be doing in ten years."

"Fair enough. What would you like to do?"

Kendall laughed dryly. "What I wouldn't give to know that answer."

"What are you passionate about?"

A man who's trying to solve a case so he can leave Savannah with a clear conscience . Kendall sighed because that wasn't what they were discussing. "Creating sauces for wings, but it's not a career."

"Says who?" Drew asked.

"It's a hobby at best."

"I disagree. Specialty restaurants are all the rage now. And what about food trucks? They used to just pop up at fairs and festivals. Not anymore."

"Me? Owning and operating a food truck? Can you imagine?"

"Absolutely. I think you'll succeed at whatever you put your mind to."

Kendall bit his bottom lip. "I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know anything about cooking commercially or running a business."

"I do," Drew said as he pulled a notebook and pen from a desk drawer. "Well, the business part, anyway. It just so happens I live with a Michelin-starred chef." He did? "And Mike would also take you under his wing if Pierre isn't looking for an apprentice." Kendall just blinked as Drew steamrolled on. "Money is always the first consideration." He wrote the word and underlined it. "There's the cost of buying a used truck and refurbishing it." He wrote that down, then added the other things Kendall would want to research. "You'll also want to get quotes for business insurance and find out how much licensing fees will cost you."

Trucks , insurance , and licenses , oh my . Kendall's head started to spin, but he couldn't deny the picture forming in his head thrilled him.

"And once you're working with some solid figures, you'll decide how much of it you can do on your own and how much financial assistance you'll need. That's when you create a proposal. Your two obvious choices for assistance are a small business loan or finding investors who believe in your dream."

"Find investors, huh? You make it sound so simple."

"It can be if you know the right people." Drew set his pen down and gave Kendall his full attention. "And I think you know the right people."

Kendall was momentarily confused. Had Drew made the connection between Kendall and Stan? If so, he had to know his stepfather wasn't going to have enough money to buy a pack of gum when the feds got done with him.

"I can tell your mind has gone somewhere dark," Drew said. "I was talking about myself, and I wasn't proposing anything more than a business venture."

"Oh my god," Kendall said, dropping his face into his hands. After a few seconds, he met Drew's gaze once more. "Stanton Burkhart is my stepfather, so I initially thought you were talking about him."

"God no," Drew said. "Like he'll have any money left."

"Right?"

"And I already knew Burkhart was your stepfather." Drew winced. "I guess it slipped my mind when I was running my mouth in the kitchen a few minutes ago. Sorry about that."

"It's no problem, but how'd you know."

"The asshole offered me money to fire you when you first started working here. I told him to go fuck himself."

Kendall's mouth fell open, and he stared at Drew in shock. "Stan came here?" he asked once he recovered.

"God no. He sent some pompous asshole to do his dirty work."

Kendall covered his face once more. "This can't be my life."

"Oh, knock it off," Drew said. "I wouldn't have held his actions against you—then or now."

"But to get in business with me, knowing what you do about him…"

"You're not anything like Stan Burkhart. You'd go hungry before you'd steal from someone else."

Kendall sighed and nodded. "I have to give this idea some thought. I feel like I've been floundering without an anchor lately."

"Take all the time you need. This doesn't have to be a move you make right now. It's something you can plan ahead for and save some capital."

"Thanks, Drew."

His brain churned out the thoughts like an ice cream maker, but instead of a delicious frozen treat, Kendall ended up with a headache. He curled up with Sammy on the couch, closed his eyes, and willed his brain to settle down. The next thing he knew, warm lips pressed a greeting to his forehead. Kendall jerked awake and looked into the most beautiful brown eyes he'd ever seen.

The room wasn't quite dark, but the sun had shifted enough to cast the living room in shadow.

"I see you're trying to steal my guy," Ridge said warmly.

"Nah," Kendall said as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I was just holding your spot until you got home. Sammy still loves you most."

Ridge cupped Kendall's face and kissed his lips. "I was talking about Sammy trying to steal you away from me."

Steal my guy . Oh, the way his heart bucked and leaped at the thought. But his hopes were dashed the next instant when Ridge updated him on the progress of his case. He couldn't say much, but Kendall saw Ridge's joy and pride in his beaming smile. He wouldn't begrudge Ridge his victory, and he was happy they were one step closer to justice for Rashanda Knight's family, so he replied with the enthusiastic embrace expected of him. Kendall held on a little tighter, inhaled Ridge's scent a little deeper, and lifted his shields a little higher.