A/N: I'm back! Oh how I've missed these two women. Let's see what this AU adventure has in store for them. The theme and the title of this story were both chosen by my lovely readers through my Twitter account. Follow me at swanqueenukff and take part in my polls, see exclusive sneak peaks and much more. For now, I'm proud to introduce you all to my brand new versions of these much loved characters. I can't wait to read your thoughts.
Dark, shiny shells clattered against metal as the bowl was emptied, sauce splattering up the sides of the pan. She smiled at the fresh, salty fragrance which burst forth. There was nothing better in the world, Emma Swan was sure, than fresh mussels.
Flames licked the base of the pan as she shook it, coating the new ingredients with the sauce already simmering away. Sliding the pristine lid into place, she turned to survey the rest of her kitchen. Activity occurred in every corner as her team worked to get ready for the lunch rush. She caught her sous chef's eye and nodded at him before turning her attention back to the new sauce she was working on as an accompaniment to the mussels. Most of it was already mixed with the shellfish but she had kept some back, sure there was something missing.
She loved cooking and relished the frenzy of a busy kitchen. But now she had risen to the position of head chef in a large restaurant she was able to delegate most day to day tasks, leaving her free to focus on what she truly loved. Inventing new dishes using any and every ingredient she could get her hands on.
Dipping a clean spoon into the sauce, she tasted it once more. Sharp, acidic, delicious. She knew once the cream was added, it would be divine. Yet it was still missing something. It didn't yet have a signature flavour which would make it unique; an unmistakable Swan creation.
Her eyes scanned the spice rack before her, imagining how each one would work within the sauce. And then she saw it. Grinning, she plucked her chosen addition from the shelf, sprinkled a generous amount into the bowl and stirred.
"August, come here and try this," Emma said, beckoning over her sous chef.
The man wiped his hands on a cloth and sidled over. Taking the offered spoon, he popped it straight into his mouth. Eyebrows rose.
"Good?" Emma asked, the edge of her thumb now trapped between her teeth, a nervous habit from her youth she had never been able to shake. Despite all her accolades as a chef, she continued to doubt her own ability at times.
"Awesome, Swanny," August grinned. "What did you put in there?"
Emma smiled and picked up another spoon to try the finished sauce herself before pointing to the spice pot lying beside the bowl.
"And that's why you're the head chef," August said, slapping his friend on the back. "Inspired. Are the mussels ready?"
Glancing at her watch, Emma realised she was in danger of over-cooking the beautiful local catch. She hauled the pot off the stove and set about picking out the mussels, discarding the few which hadn't opened and placing the edible ones into a bowl. Once done, she added the new ingredient to the sauce in the pan and then poured in a generous helping of heavy cream.
"So, I was thinking of having these as the special tonight," Emma said, as she ladled the finished sauce over the bowl of mussels. August was almost salivating at this point. "We've got a few boxes and there's that big party booked in from the marketing agency. Should be able to shift most of them as starters, I reckon."
"Sounds good to me," August said as cracked pepper landed on top of the dish followed by a fresh sprig of basil. "Lemme try."
Obediently, Emma pushed the bowl towards her friend and colleague as the man himself picked up a slender fork. He scooped out a shell with his fingers, skewered the small portion inside and pulled it free. Dipping the meat liberally into Emma's new creation, he popped it into his mouth.
Teeth chewing her finger once more, Emma watched as the man ate her latest menu item. Only when the man had swallowed and reached for a second did Emma permit herself to eat one.
The taste exploded as soon as the perfectly cooked meat hit her tongue and she savoured the tang of the sauce before gulping it down.
"Winner, Swanny," August said, nudging his friend. "Guys, come try these."
Within seconds, the rest of the kitchen were gathered around, complimenting Emma and devouring the sample dish until there was nothing left but a pile of empty shells. August had taken it upon himself to slurp up the remnants of the sauce at the bottom of the bowl with a spoon, not wanting to waste a drop of the delectable nectar.
"I'll go and tell Ruby to put it on the menu," Emma said, picking up the pot to carry to the wash area before removing her chef hat and heading out towards the front of the restaurant.
"Killian's here, by the way," August said just as Emma was leaving.
"Today?" Emma frowned. "Why?"
The owner of Hook, Line and Sinker was not often present, something Emma was grateful for. His other businesses in New York took up the majority of his time and he considered the restaurant something of a hobby, albeit a profitable one. She hadn't seen her boss for two weeks and felt the nerves coil in her stomach as she realised she would have to speak with him. No, not nerves, disgust.
"Something about this party tonight," August said. "I think he wants the agency to do our advertising. I don't know why we need to market this place though. We're packed every night."
The restaurant had indeed been a roaring success. Just three years old and already known throughout Maine as the best seafood restaurant the state had to offer. A twenty-minute drive from the state capital, Storybrooke had been a relatively unknown coastal town before Hook, Line and Sinker opened its doors. Much of the restaurant's popularity had been due to Emma. Just a few years out of culinary school, the exceptional young talent had taken the helm eighteen months before and steered the restaurant to new heights. Although the owner, Killian Jones, recognised Emma's value to his business, the man had not yet got his head around the fact that his affections towards the blonde chef were unwanted and unrequited.
"Right, well, I'll go and say hi, I suppose," Emma sighed.
"Need a bodyguard?" August joked.
Emma glowered at him. "Shut up. You know as well as I do that what he does is sexual harassment."
Sobered, August looked guilty. He didn't mean to make light of the situation and he knew Killian's come-on attempts had a negative affect on his friend. Emma didn't talk about it with him but he had seen the way she was shaken after the leering man called her into his office. Whatever happened, however, Emma refused to complain or report the behaviour. She had worked too hard to get where she was and was determined not to do anything which may jeopardise her job. Emma felt that were she to say something about Killian's attitude, she may find herself unemployed and unemployable. The man was powerful and well connected.
The restaurant was half full when Emma emerged from the kitchen. She spotted Ruby speaking with two new wait staff and made her way over. Once her best friend and flatmate had finished briefing the young girls, she turned and beckoned Emma to follow her to the bar where she began to check the stock levels on their drinks.
"You know Killian's here, right?" Ruby asked as she crouched down to open the fridge, the red streak dyed into her dark brown hair now visible to Emma, twisted into her neat bun in such a way that she presented respectably to customers and hid her wild side.
"Yeah, August just told me," Emma said. "I'm going to pop my head in now. I wanted to tell you about the special I'm doing tonight. I thought I would try it out for the lunch crowd too but maybe just ten portions. Can you get your guys to report any feedback to me?"
"Market research? Sure," Ruby said. "What's the dish?"
Emma recounted the ingredients she had used to her friend who typed the details into her tablet. Promising to write the new dish on the specials board as soon as she was done at the bar, Emma left her friend and headed towards the seldom used office at the back of the restaurant. Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on the polished wood.
"Come in," called the familiar Irish accent.
Opening the door, Emma forced a smile and stepped inside. "Hi Boss, how are you?" she asked, taking a seat before the man could stand and embrace her.
"All the better for seeing you, love," Killian said, eyes unabashedly roaming over Emma's body. Chef whites were hardly the sexiest clothes but the man was undeniably leering as he stared at the blonde. "How are you doing? Still single?"
"I'm fine, thank you," Emma said, ignoring the second question. "We've been busy. Tonight will be a big one too."
"No time for dating, huh?" Killian grinned, leaning forwards and placing his elbows on the desk, hands clasped and extended towards Emma. "You should probably date someone you work with. That way you'd get to see them."
"Yeah, tried that, didn't work out so well," Emma said, remembering how her last work-based relationship had dissolved into anger and betrayal and she had walked out of the kitchen less than a week later. "Anyway, I'm super busy but I just wanted to say hi. August says you're here for the marketing agency this evening?"
"Sure am," Killian said. "I want to take HLS to the next level. And I want you to come along for the ride, sweetheart."
Emma pursed her lips but nodded. She loved her work and everything about cooking at the restaurant with the exception of her boss. Killian's absence for the majority of the time made his infrequent visits bearable, however. They were enduring it if it meant she was able to keep doing a job she loved.
"When do you go back to New York?" Emma asked.
"Trying to get rid of me?" Killian grinned. Emma said nothing. "I leave tomorrow. It's just a flying visit. One day, you'll come down to the Big Apple and spend some time with me there. I'd like you to see my other businesses. Plus, my apartment has the most stunning view of Central Park."
"I'm sure it does but I can't leave this place," Emma replied.
"I'm your boss," Killian pointed out. "I give you permission."
Emma was about to make up some other phony excuse when a knock on the door saved her from doing so. Ruby's head appeared. "Sorry to interrupt. Ems, a customer is asking allergy questions and I don't for the life of me know what to tell her. I mean, why would someone who was allergic to shellfish come to HLS?"
"Duty calls," Emma said, standing up at once.
Killian leapt to his feet as well and circled the desk before Emma could move. He wrapped his arms around the blonde who stood, rooted to the spot, and hugged her tightly. Emma didn't return the gesture, rather she tilted her pelvis backwards to avoid the feel of the man's crotch pressed against her stomach.
"See you later," Killian said as he pulled back and winked at her.
In the corridor, Ruby made a face. Emma wrinkled her nose and nodded her agreement. The duo headed over to the customer who required help without another word. Neither woman needed to voice what they both knew the other was thinking. They were lucky with their sexual preferences; women were definitely better than men.
Crowds of shoppers parted to pass around the little group standing in the middle of Monument Square and staring up at the billboard. Well, all except one group member who was watching the faces of her companions, trying to read their reactions.
"It's perfect," Mr Gold, the company's CEO, said at last. "A triumph, Ms Mills. Congratulations. I know your mother would be very proud."
Regina Mills let out a little sigh of relief. She knew the billboard was excellent and didn't doubt her own abilities, or that of her team. But it was always nerve-wracking to wait for the client's verdict. She was also quietly overjoyed that the old family friend thought her deceased mother would have been proud. Regina missed her mother every day and it brought some comfort to have her work validated by someone who had known her.
"I'm glad you approve," Regina smiled. "I think this is a great start to your next campaign. The other boards will be erected overnight all over Portland and your digital ads begin running state-wide tomorrow. All going well, we'll expand from there."
Smiling, Robert Gold held out his hand to Regina. "Dearie, it's been a pleasure," he said. "What do you think, Gideon?"
Mr Gold's son and heir to the independent children's clothing brand, was still peering up at the new billboard, a slight frown on his forehead.
"Who's the kid?" he asked. "I don't recognise this photo from the shoot." The image had captured a boy's tousled hair and the top of his face poking through the neck hole in a fire-truck red t-shirt. His jeans were pale blue, white socks adorning small feet and a pair of sneakers waiting to be put on beside him. Although the child's olive eyes were visible, Gideon was having a hard time remembering which of the child models they had hired would fit that look.
"Oh, that's because he wasn't there the day you came with the models," Regina said. "This is my son, Henry. He was on site the day after when we were trying to get some product shots and my photographer captured this one. I know it's not featuring one of the children you had selected but we thought it was rather powerful. It's candid and truthful. Henry didn't even know we were taking photos. He just started getting himself dressed."
"He looks young. Must be at the lower age of our product line. What is he? Four? Five?" Mr Gold asked.
"Six," Regina said. "Right in the middle of your age range."
"It's a great shot," Mr Gold mused. "He's very photogenic. I like this style too. It's not staged and it shows that kids really do love our clothing. Would you be interested in him doing future campaigns?"
Regina had known this question would come up. As a marketer, she knew how important brand consistency was. But that didn't mean she wanted to subject her son to the life of a child model. In fact, it had been her photographer who had persuaded her to use the image in the first place. She didn't like the idea of her son's photo being plastered all over Maine and even across the United States but since Henry was unidentifiable except by those who knew him well, she had agreed. And, she had to admit, Kathryn had been right. It was the perfect photo to launch the new clothing range.
"Not at the moment, I'm afraid," Regina said. "The other marketing material has a variety of children from the shoot on it. Henry is just one of dozens wearing your brand."
"I do hope this young man is joining us for dinner tonight," Mr Gold said. "I'd like to thank him personally for lending his excellent hair and forehead to my company."
Regina laughed but only to cover the nerves she felt at the suggestion. Henry in a restaurant? Eating in public?
"He'll be with a sitter, I'm afraid," Regina said.
"Nonsense," Mr Gold said. "This dinner is a celebration of the launch of Golden Garments' newest range and I think it's fair to say your son is the forehead of our company right now. Please, I insist."
Unwilling to say no to the biggest client Mills Marketing had ever landed, Regina found herself nodding in agreement, wondering as she did so whether there was any chance of the restaurant having something on the menu that her son would even consider eating.
Large bookings were always a source of tension in the kitchen. While the chefs appreciated the forewarning, they felt additional pressure to deliver exceptional food, timed to perfection throughout the night. Which would be possible if the group itself wasn't twenty minutes late.
Emma was already cursing the marketing agency when the guests at last took their seats, before any orders had even come in. Ruby was fawning over them, at Killian's request. He had come out briefly to introduce himself before disappearing. He was a good businessman but a terrible host and had retreated to the safety of his office as soon as the group were seated.
As she watched one of her trainee chefs prepare a cheese soufflé, Emma was distracted by a loud laugh from August. Turning around, she saw Ruby had entered the kitchen and the two of them were talking animatedly.
"What's going on? Have they ordered yet?" Emma asked, glancing at the electronic screens where new orders would appear as soon as they were entered by the wait staff. Digital technology had done wonders for the efficiency of a large kitchen and Emma didn't think she could ever go back to deciphering the scruffy scrawls of harried servers.
"The adults are almost all done," Ruby said.
"There are kids in this group?" Emma asked. She didn't dislike children but Hook, Line and Sinker was not the most appropriate place for a family with young kids to enjoy a meal out.
"One kid," Ruby nodded. "The son of the marketing agency CEO. Um, but he's fussy."
"Of course he is," Emma sighed. What kid wasn't. "What have they asked for?"
"Beans on toast," Ruby replied.
August snorted again and Emma's eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding, right? Do we even have a can of baked beans in this entire building?"
"I don't know," Ruby said. "What should I tell them?"
"You can tell them to go -"
"I'll come and talk to them," Emma said, interrupting August. There was enough swearing in the kitchen when the frenzied cooking started. They didn't need to add to the vulgarity beforehand. Emma had grown up in households where swearing was not tolerated and it had taken some getting used to when she entered the world of commercial kitchens.
"Alright but I don't know what good it will do," Ruby said. "The mother seemed adamant the boy wouldn't eat anything on our menu."
Following Ruby from the kitchen, Emma glanced around at the busy restaurant, nodding at a few regulars as she wound her way through the chairs and tables until they reached the largest group. Men and women in office attire were talking loudly, drinks already half empty as they celebrated whatever commercial success brought them to the restaurant. Ruby led Emma to the far end of the table where a woman with perfectly styled short dark hair was crouched down beside a small boy.
"Ms Mills," Ruby said. "This is our head chef, Emma Swan."
The woman looked up from her position and then stood, holding out her hand. "Regina Mills," she introduced. "Thank you for coming out here but really, there's no need. Just beans on toast will be fine for Henry."
Emma shook the offered hand before forcing a smile. "I'm afraid that's not going to be possible."
"Oh?" Regina asked. "And why not?"
"Well, we don't have any beans," Emma informed her. "Nor bread for that matter."
"You don't have bread?" Regina frowned. "You're a restaurant. How do you not have bread?"
"We're a high end seafood restaurant," Emma replied. "The closest we get to bread are the freshly baked seaweed and kelp infused baguettes which come with our smoked fish pâté."
"What's pâté?"
At the question, Regina turned and crouched down beside Henry. "It's a sort of thick spread you put on bread. This one is made from fish. Would you like to try some?"
"No," came the immediate reply, head shaking.
"Are you sure?" Emma asked, addressing the boy directly whom she guessed to be about four years old. "It's really nice."
"I don't like it," Henry said, round face now upturned to Emma.
"But you haven't tried it yet," Emma said. "It's delicious, I promise you."
"Thank you, Miss Swan," Regina said, standing up once more. "My son will be fine with some food I brought from home if you're in agreement?"
Emma raised her eyebrows. "You brought your own food to my restaurant?"
"Yes," Regina replied, unfazed by the offence she had caused the young chef. "My son doesn't like a lot of food so I brought a few things I knew he would eat, in case you were unable to accommodate him. I assume that's ok?"
Gobsmacked for a moment, Emma eventually nodded. The affirmation received a quick smile from the brunette before she turned and reached for her handbag. Seconds later, she had pulled out a packet of plain crackers, a carton of milk and an apple. Emma eyed the small selection with distain as they were placed in front of the young boy. Henry reached forwards at once and pulled the straw from the side of the milk. Regina ruffled his hair before turning back to Emma and Ruby who were still stood there.
"Thank you for coming out here but my son will be fine with this."
"Are you sure?" Emma asked, calculating the nutritional value of the three items in her head and biting her tongue at the result she reached.
"Quite sure, thank you," Regina replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my guests."
Sitting down before Emma and Ruby had even turned away, Regina reached to open the cracker packet Henry was struggling with before moving her attention to Mr Gold who was talking with his sales manager about the upcoming advertising campaign.
Ruby tugging on Emma's sleeve snapped the blonde from her trance. She pulled her curious eyes away from the boy's mother and retreated, without another word, into the kitchen.
The group's orders had come through by the time Emma had returned and her staff were busy. She glanced up at the screen before checking in on August.
"We're good, Chef," he grinned, searing scallops in a pan as he spoke.
"Ok, yell if you need anything," Emma said before making her way towards the fresh fruit and vegetable fridge and opening the door. Scanning the shelves, she mentally began to create a dish which would offer a young child the nutrition he needed.
A/N: Two quick things and a thank you.
1. I'm in digital marketing.
2. I don't cook…
The thank you goes to the wonderfully talented Angela (SwanQueenSwen) who created the cover art for this story. Thank you so much for taking the time to do this. I really appreciate it and I hope everyone else takes a few seconds to admire your handiwork.
Oh, and in case you're wondering/or are a new reader of my stories, I'll be back to my Sunday and Wednesday publishing schedule unless otherwise stated.
