In the Raw by Eileen Griffin, Nikka Michaels Page B

the floor with a loud crash and then the moment was gone. With a blink, his look was replaced by the usual cocky smirk and I knew asshole Ethan had returned. The vulnerable, hungry look I’d glimpsed was gone and buried under all those self-protective layers.
    He cleared his throat and tilted his head toward the side of the kitchen. “I’m going to check on the fryers.”
    “Ethan.”
Stop hiding from me.
    “Have the dough ready, Golden Boy. We need to get our asses in gear if we’re going to have all our shit ready by the end of class.”
    Without another word, he left me alone to roll and shape the dough for our dessert. I slammed the dough on the counter in frustration. When Ethan returned, he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched me.
    “I got you a spot for this Saturday’s breakfast shift.”
    I stared at him. “Saturday, as in tomorrow?” How in the hell could he have gotten me the shift so fast?
    “Don’t be shocked, Lassiter. You asked for a spot in the kitchen from hell. I’m just keeping my end of the bargain.”
    I grimaced when he phrased it that way. “I would have helped you regardless, jackass. All you had to do was ask.”
    He laughed and began to stack the dough circles I’d cut for the cannoli. “I told you. I’m not a charity case, Golden Boy. You help me, I help you. Don’t get too excited, though. You’ll be working part of the morning in the back on the line. Nothing glamorous like my spot at the omelet station on the main floor, but it’s a spot. Once the guests arrive, you’ll probably have to run plates to the floor and bus tables.”
    I watched Ethan’s fingers as he wrapped the pieces of cannoli dough around the metal tubes, applying egg wash to keep them closed. The tubes would keep the pastry in the traditional shape as they fried and be perfect for filling with the cream mixture. Transfixed, I knew I was staring as his long fingers smoothed over the length of the tubes. I shook my head, trying to focus on the conversation and not on the almost obscene motion of his hands.
    “I don’t mind the hard work, Martin. Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked for the shift. You’re not the only one here who wants to be a chef, remember?” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him defiantly. He needed to be reminded he wasn’t the only one who could cook around here. He might think I was some spoiled brat with a silver spoon but I’d earned my place in the scholarship competition like he had.
    He sized me up, eyes shrewdly assessing, and nodded. I tried not to feel triumph at this small sign of his acceptance.
    “You’re a good chef, Lassiter. Not as good as I am, obviously, but you’re good. Fair warning about Saturday, though. Chef Kitterick is in charge of the kitchen. He barks and screams like the world is ending, but he’s fair. Just don’t drop anything and keep the orders straight. Otherwise it’ll make me look like a total asshole for getting you the shift. Got it?”
    I chuckled and scratched under my eye with my middle finger, echoing the gesture I’d seen him give Reed. “And we can’t have that, can we, Martin?”
    Ethan barked out a laugh. “Exactly. Don’t fuck this up for me, Golden Boy.” He grabbed the tray holding the dough-wrapped tubes and turned to walk back to the fryers.
    “Ethan?”
    He looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows cocked. “I’m good, Lassiter. I’m not going to mess up the cannoli.”
    There were too many things I wanted to say to him, the least important of which had to do with cannoli. Instead, I smiled and grabbed the tart pan for the oven. “I wanted to say thanks for the shift. But yeah, don’t screw up the cannoli. I need a good grade in class today especially if I’m going to get my ass handed to me in the kitchen this weekend.”
    I thought he was going to drop the dough he laughed so hard as he made his way to the fryers. I watched him work as I cleaned up. I hated that he