Here is the last teaser I’m going to provide for Fierce- Aiden. You can catch up on the Prologue and Chapter One.

More Nervous

Nic Moretti cupped her hands on the frosted window of Fierce’s big wooden door, then peeked inside. The lights were on, but the door was locked tighter than the gates of heaven trying to keep out the devil.

She tapped on the glass and waited, not wanting to be late for the interview. As it was, she was shocked she’d been called in for one. She hadn’t even known about the opening at Fierce, and probably never would have if a regular hadn’t come into the cafe she worked at and asked to speak with the person who’d made her lunch.

Seemed that regular was the mother of the owners of Fierce. Jolene Fierce had introduced herself last week after Nic was asked by the owner to go talk with a customer. Here Nic was all nervous something was wrong, only to be praised left and right. “I’ve been coming to this cafe for years, and I’ve never tasted bread and pasta as wonderful as the past few months. I just had to see who the master was behind it.”

Jolene had seemed sweet and made Nic’s day, but once her boss walked away, Jolene pulled out her card and said, “I hope you don’t think I’m too forward, but I’d like to see if you’re interested in applying to work at my son’s restaurant.”

Nic had looked around quickly, hoping no one was listening to their conversation. She’d only been working at the cafe for about six months, and even then, moved from pastries to some specialty dishes. As much as it wasn’t the life she envisioned, she really couldn’t blow this job. “I don’t know. I like it here and I haven’t been employed that long.”

“Please,” Jolene had said, and slid the card forward. “Just think about it.”

Nic nodded her head, picked the card up, and walked away before looking at it. Once she did, she knew she had no choice but to at least submit her resume.

Fierce was the hottest place around. Not just the brewery, but the pub and restaurant as well. Two different types of fare out of the main building. The pub had more casual, laid-back everyday food with a flare of the unexpected, with the Fierce brew making its way into most dishes.

The restaurant in the back had the same options available as the pub, but a broader menu. A more elaborate one. Not even a set menu, but one that changed weekly with only a few items that remained constant.

Nic had never realized that before, but one day she heard another coworker talking about the meal they’d eaten at the restaurant and how it was completely different than the last time they’d been there. She’d asked what was different and was told, “They change the menu each week. You can get the pub menu back there if you want, or you can get a meal as if you were traveling to a different part of the world.”

“Meaning they have different cuisines?” she asked, not really following. It wasn’t like she had an abundance of time or money to go out to eat often.

“Yeah. I guess. But they change their menu. No reservations, either. You go and maybe you get an all-Italian supplemental menu to choose from that night, or maybe French, Indian, or German. It could be anything.”

“And people like that?” Nic had asked.

“Are you kidding me? That’s the best part of it. It keeps people going back all the time, trying to land on their favorite. There’s no rhyme or reason to it either. Well, they post the style of cuisine on all their social media outlets on Sunday for the following week, but that’s it. No other notice than that.”

Nic had shrugged and thought that was nuts, but since Fierce was so popular, it had to work. During her research for this interview, she found that Aiden Fierce was the recipient of a James Beard Award at just twenty-five years old. He obviously knew what he was doing.

That Jolene Fierce thought she was worthy of an interview was kind of laughable.

Aiden had attended the Culinary Institute of America. He’d interned at the Food Network, then spent a few years traveling all over the world honing his skill. She’d worked beside her grandmother and aunts, cooking and baking since she was a child. Now she worked in a cafe making a little over minimum wage. It just didn’t seem like this was possible.

“I’m so sorry,” an employee said as she opened the door quickly. “I completely forgot that Aiden had an interview scheduled and didn’t unlock the front door. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No. Just a minute or so,” Nic said, looking at the mass of wild black curly hair that was pulled back from the employee’s face.

“I’m Aimee, by the way.” She held her hand out and Nic shook it quickly. “I’m the day manager at the bar. Come on in and have a seat. You’re a little early. I think Aiden is out back, but he’ll pop his head in when he’s ready.”

Nic looked at her watch. She still had ten minutes to spare. “Thanks.” She pulled a chair out and sat at a table out of the way.

“You don’t have to sit way over there,” Aimee said. “Come on over and sit at the bar. Normally interviewees do and then start peppering me with questions.”

Nic stood up and moved closer, not wanting to be rude. “Is it okay to do that?”

“What, ask me questions? Sure, go right ahead.”

“I read there is a new supplemental menu for the restaurant weekly. Are there sous chefs for each specialty for the week? Chefs with their own recipes?”

“That’s a really good question,” Aimee said, smiling. “Most of the time I’m asked what Aiden is like. If he is really strict, words of advice to say, or anything that could give them an edge during the interview.”

Nic flushed. It never occurred to her to ask that, and was glad she didn’t by the look on Aimee’s face. “I guess I’m just focused on the food.”

Aimee smiled and patted her hand, in reassurance, she hoped. “As far as I know, all the recipes ultimately come from Aiden. He takes his employees’ input for sure, but he is the one who puts it all together. There are some chefs back there that specialize in a specific cuisine, but everyone has to be well rounded too.”

That was good to know and something to store away if it came up. Best not to talk too much about her Italian roots.

“Aimee.” She turned to see someone walking in the room. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know you were with someone.”

“Hey, Ella. This is Aiden’s first interview today. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even ask your name. So rude of me. I have to say I was just so excited to see a woman that everything flew out of my head.”

“Nic Moretti. No worries. There are no other women in the restaurant?” What was she getting herself into? Yes, it was a male-dominated field, but normally there were a few women around.

“Of course there are. I’m Ella Fierce.” She stuck her hand out. “Sorry about Aimee. She’s surrounded by the Fierce men and still isn’t used to being part of the family now, so she gets giddy when she sees another woman. She forgets I’m right upstairs too. But then again, I’m used to this.”

Nic’s head was bouncing back and forth as she tried to figure out the inside joke the two of them were smiling about, but was afraid to ask.

Aimee grinned. “I’m newly engaged to Brody. Brody Fierce. He runs the bar.”

“How many siblings are there?” Nic asked. Maybe she should have studied more about the business as a whole.

Ella laughed at her. “Do you know anything about our business?”

“The restaurant. I mean, I know about the brewery too,” Nic stumbled, wishing she hadn’t said anything. Her face was turning red; she knew it was. “I researched the restaurant and Aiden. That’s the position I’m applying for and felt it was best to focus on that for now.”

“She’s already asking actual questions about the menu,” Aimee said. “Not personal ones about Aiden.”

“Nice,” Ella said. “Keep thinking that way and you’ll do fine. Don’t let him intimidate you either.”

“Are you two trying to make me more nervous than I already am?” Nic asked. Seriously! She already didn’t think she had a shot after reading his intimidating biography posted on their website.

“Not at all. Just giving you some advice. Aiden is pretty harmless. Don’t believe everything you hear about him,” Aimee said.

“He’s very passionate about his food and the restaurant,” Ella said. “Nothing more than that. Moretti? I remember my mother used to bring me to this little Italian-owned shop as a kid. Best cannoli I’ve ever had, with chocolate shavings rather than chips in the filling. They had all these homemade pastas there and fresh bread daily that was to die for.”

“That was my grandparents’ shop.” She felt the same tinge of guilt at those words today that she did a year ago.

“Was?” Ella asked.

“It burned down over a year ago.” Nic would never forgive herself for it. Her grandparents—her whole family—entrusted the legacy of Moretti’s in her hands. And she’d failed them.

“They didn’t rebuild?” Ella asked. “What a shame.”

“Not enough insurance money for it,” Nic said simply.

There was no reason to say how money was tight and how her grandparents had taken several loans out to keep the business afloat. Or that they’d never increased the coverage on the policy in over twenty years. Once all debt had been paid, there was barely enough for her grandparents to live out the rest of their lives without scraping by with their social security alone now.

Before either of them could ask her another question, Aiden Fierce appeared in the doorway between the bar and what she assumed was the restaurant. The picture of him on their website didn’t do him justice. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got an interview scheduled right now, if you want to let me know when he gets here.”

Ella and Aimee both burst out laughing. “She’s right here,” Ella said.

“Sorry,” Aiden said, grinning at her, not looking the least bit embarrassed over his faux pas. “I just assumed a guy by the name, my mistake. I’m Aiden Fierce.”

He walked forward and held his hand out to her. His overly large hand that definitely held more than a pen in his lifetime, attached to an equally tall, spectacular body. Strong and toned, and not one of a man that made his living around food, or at least consuming huge amounts of it. If she felt a spark when their hands touched, she wasn’t admitting it.

“Nic Moretti. Nicolette Moretti, but only my grandmother is allowed to call me that,” she said. When he grinned at her, she wished she’d kept her mouth quiet on that last part. She always babbled when she was nervous, and hoped she could find some control now. But darn it all, she didn’t think he’d be even more handsome in person.

 

 

If you haven’t had a chance to read the prologue of Fierce-Aiden yet, you can check it out here!

I won’t keep you waiting for chapter one though!

High Expectations

Twelve Years Later

“Really, Shawn?” Aiden snarled. He wasn’t known to lose his temper in the kitchen, or in life in general. Not unless it was major…and this to him was sort of major. His kitchen and his staff were everything, but he still only curled his lip rather than shouting.

Something had to hit Aiden hard for him to slip up and show even that much emotion, though. Normally his staff knew his passion was mixed in with high expectations and they performed to his level, never wanting to receive anything other than his praise.

Yes, he was cocky, and he didn’t care. He’d worked hard for it. He earned it.

But now, right now, there was no controlling his frustration that someone was letting him down. That someone wasn’t living up to his standards, or at least his requirements.

“I’m sorry, Aiden. I love it here. You know I do.” Shawn held Aiden’s brown-eyed stare. He’d taught them all to look him in the eye. He didn’t care if they were right, wrong, scared, or nervous, eye contact was always the best way to show confidence—forced or not. But even with the eye contact, Shawn was shuffling his feet around.

“You aren’t even giving me any notice,” Aiden said, the heat rising up his neck. Shawn was good. One of his better line cooks. Fast, efficient, and driven to learn as much as he could. He’d had high hopes of moving Shawn from the pub to the restaurant soon. This loss was going to hurt bad, but worse yet were the shifts he had to fill on such short notice.

“I’m giving you three days,” Shawn said, quieter now.

“Again, really? Two weeks minimum is what I’ve always required. You know that.”

Shawn took a deep breath. “I know. I know we make more here than anywhere else and there are requirements and expectations. But I don’t have a choice.”

Aiden sighed and tried to gather himself. He walked forward and shut his office door, even though there wasn’t anyone else around in the kitchen this early, then turned and said, “Have a seat and tell me about this choice you don’t have.”

Shawn sat in the chair opposite Aiden’s desk, where he planted himself after he’d shut the door. A glance at his computer didn’t help his mood any—where he was planning this weekend’s specials and had hoped to get Shawn’s input when he came in. That was out of the question now.

“You know Lauren is home on leave. She has to go back on Sunday.”

Lauren was Shawn’s girlfriend, who served in the Army. A nice girl, from the few times Aiden had seen her around.

“Yeah. I gave you last week off to be with her too. That was a last-minute request I accommodated.”

“And I really appreciated it. Lauren did too. But we were talking…and we don’t want to be away from each other again.” Shawn inhaled a huge breath, looking like his chest was going to explode, then rushed out with, “We’re getting married on Saturday and I’m leaving with her.”

Aiden stopped the roll from escaping his eyes…barely. Love. That’s what this was about? Talk about bat-shit crazy. “How long have you two been dating?”

“A year,” Shawn said. “But I’ve known her a long time. We went to school together.”

“How old are you?” Aiden asked, not thinking Shawn was even close to twenty-five.

“Twenty-two,” Shawn said, lifting his whisker-free face higher.

“You’re a baby,” Aiden said before he could stop himself.

“I’m really sorry, Aiden, but I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to follow my heart. Haven’t you ever just wanted to do that?”

Aiden ground his teeth. “It’s not about me. It’s about you. It’s about Fierce. Look, I’m sorry if I overreacted. I’m sorry if you think I’m not happy for you. It’s sudden, but I get it. I just wish I had more notice.”

“I know, I know. I was afraid to tell you. I look up to you so much and I really didn’t want to let you down. But I need to do this.”

Aiden grudgingly stood up and reached his hand out to Shawn’s. He could see there was no use wasting his breath trying to convince Shawn otherwise. “I wish you luck. I really do. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Do you mean that?” Shawn asked, a little wide-eyed.

“Yeah.” Aiden pulled his business card out of a drawer, then flipped it over and wrote on the back of it. “My cell is on the back. If you need help finding a job, or a reference, let me know where you end up living. I know a lot of people and I’ll do what I can for you.”

Shawn took the card and then pumped Aiden’s hand fast and furious. “Can I have a hug?”

“No,” Aiden said, laughing. “Get out of here before I get angry. And Shawn,” he said when the door was opened, “good luck.”

“I don’t need luck. I’m in love.”

This time Aiden rolled his eyes. Love, yeah right. He’d take luck any day over that.

***

“What has you looking so grouchy?” his brother Brody asked him when he walked into the upstairs conference room an hour later for their weekly meeting. Aiden had come in early today hoping to get some work done, before Shawn showed up unannounced hours before his shift. Instead, Aiden spent the past thirty minutes looking through old resumes.

“I only want to say it once, so let’s wait until everyone gets here.”

The two of them sat there quietly for ten minutes, Brody grinning at him, like Brody always did when he knew something was bothering one of his brothers and was trying to get under their skin.

Brody, as the oldest—by all of five minutes over Aiden—was looked to as the leader. A title that Aiden was glad someone else in the family inherited. He had his hands full running the restaurant when he’d much rather just be in there cooking and not worrying about the little things…like staffing.

Mason and Ella walked in together, Cade rushing in at exactly ten like he always did. That was actually early for him.

“Now that we’re all here…” Ella started. Ella always started all the meetings. She ran the numbers end of the business, the personnel end from a higher level too…and what Aiden and his brothers always said behind Ella’s back was that she ran them too. “Anything we need to focus on today other than the normal around-the-room reporting?”

No one said anything and Aiden wasn’t going to either. It wasn’t that big of a deal for the group as a whole. His problem was solely his problem and responsibility.

“All right then,” Ella continued on. “Revenue is nice and steady in the bar, restaurant, and brewery. Here are the reports.” She passed them around the room. He’d look his over in more depth later today. Ella was always thorough and he wished he had an ounce of that trait outside of his culinary skills. “Cade, here is your budget for the upcoming events on the docket. Let me know if it’s too much or too little, and we’ll negotiate.”

Cade picked it up and looked it over, never batting an eye. At one point in time they all argued over whether Ella had the right to give them budgets, but then realized, she really did. She was the only one with her finger on every pulse and they trusted her judgment. Aiden knew he sure the hell didn’t want to deal with that, either.

“That’s all I’ve got for the moment. Who wants to go next?”

“I think Aiden should go next,” Brody said. “He’s sitting over there percolating like leftover chili on an already upset stomach.”

Aiden flipped a single digit at his brother, which only resulted in a laugh. After the year Brody had, Aiden was hard pressed to be annoyed over Brody’s little digs. He was just glad Brody was back to the brother he’d always known and loved.

“Fine,” Aiden said. “I didn’t have anything to report until Shawn showed up early this morning. He gave me his notice.”

“Ouch,” Mason said. Mason and he were the closest to each other in the group, and he knew he’d get sympathy from that end. “Now we know why your eye is twitching and you’re fidgeting in your chair. You know, if you ever let off a little steam then you wouldn’t look like you’re having a stroke when you’re annoyed.” So much for Mason always being in his corner.

“I’ll be happy to help place ads and sort through resumes for you, Aiden,” Ella said, obviously trying not to laugh.

“I’d appreciate that,” he said, ignoring them as a whole.

“You’ve got two weeks to find someone. People are knocking down the door to work with you,” Cade said. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Aiden snorted. “Nope. He’s done on Friday.”

“Why?” Ella said. “Two weeks—that’s what we expect.”

“Expecting and getting are two different things,” Brody said. “In this business, Aiden and I know what it’s like. It’s not the same as working in an office, Ella.”

Brody was the last person he’d expected to back him up. “Thanks.”

“No thanks needed, but now I know to keep away from you. If I thought you looked pissy before, it’s only going to get worse. Remember the last time he had to interview?” Brody asked everyone else in the room.

“I hid for those two weeks,” Cade said, “and relied on feedback. I think you all exaggerated, but I didn’t want to be around to find out if it was true.”

“Come on, guys,” Mason said. “He’s not that bad. He just has high expectations.”

“We all do,” Brody said, “but we don’t all snarl during the process. Of course, I appreciated all the food he was mass producing to work off steam.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ella said. “Last time he decided to work on his dessert creations. I’m still trying to lose those three pounds.”

Ella was skinny as a rail, and just teasing, but he’d done it on purpose knowing she had that weakness. His form of revenge on her back then for some reason or another that was eluding his memory.

“So says the guy who needed us to hire his new manager because he wouldn’t do it himself,” Aiden said back.

Brody went six months with an open day manager position until their mother stepped in and told the rest of them to get it taken care of while Brody and Cade were sent to their respective corners to lick their wounds after another fight.

“You don’t hear me complaining,” Brody said. “Best thing you guys did was find Aimee for me.”

Cade snorted. “You didn’t think so back then. I remember a day or so of ranting.”

“And some jealousy over her success in the bar,” Aiden pointed out.

“All a thing of the past,” Brody said, still sporting a big grin. Guess there was no getting under Brody’s skin today.

“He’s in love, guys,” Ella said. “Aimee was the best thing to happen to him. I’m just glad he finally realized he’s not the know-it-all he always thought he was.”

“Cute, Ella,” Brody said. “But since Aimee likes you so much, I’ll let it pass.”

Aiden watched the interaction between his siblings around the table. They always bickered and laughed, smiled and yelled. Emotions could run hot and cold between them all, but they always stood together and always would.

“Yeah, well,” Aiden said, “love is what got me in this mess with Shawn.”

“Is he leaving with Lauren?” Ella asked.

Aiden turned sharply. “How did you guess?”

“Because I pay attention to the staff in the building more than you. Lauren has been around often since she’s been on leave. Shawn talks about her all the time. I’m not really surprised by it and I’m shocked you are.”

“I don’t have time to think about my staff’s personal lives. I’ve got a restaurant to run.”

Brody and Ella laughed, Cade snorted, and Mason just looked at him sympathetically.

No one knew why he felt the way he did about love and couples and personal relationships. All they knew was that he couldn’t be bothered. There was no place for it in his restaurant and no time for it in his life. Not that he’d have it in him to even try at this point.

“Anything else to report?” Ella asked him. “If not, we’ll move on before you get even testier with your personal views of people having a life outside of work.”

He wasn’t testy and didn’t know why she said that, but if he argued it’d be more fuel, so he bit his tongue no matter how much he wanted to defend himself.

He had a life outside of work. Well, he could have one if he wanted to. But he didn’t and he was fine with that.

Another fifteen minutes went by while Mason talked about his new fall brews in the works and Cade talked about future promotions which Aiden was only half listening at best.

It was wrong, he knew; he should pay more attention. The five of them ran everything at Fierce now and had for the past five years. They’d turned their parents’ pub into a company that had its branding recognized all over the United States, thanks to Mason’s brewery that popped up six years ago, and Cade’s and Ella’s skills setting up distribution.

His parents retained ownership long enough for the brewery to get up and running, and the restaurant in back to be expanded, then overhauled. Brody ran the bar, just like he had after high school—the only one of them not to go on to college. Ella became a CPA, Cade, a lawyer, and then they were well on their way to making Fierce what they’d dreamed of.

His life was exactly where he’d always thought it’d be.

He wasn’t testy. Not at all.

 

 

What many of you have been waiting for…teasers for Fierce- Aiden!! Isn’t he just smoking hot?!

Prologue

The alarm clock buzzed loudly throughout the room, sounding like a bullhorn going off, though the volume was only set at two.

Aiden Fierce pried his tired eyes open, slapped around until he found the right button, then looked at the flashing red numbers lighting up the room: 3:00 a.m.

He was driven.

He was determined.

He was nuts.

None of his other classmates were getting up at the crack of butt-ugly dawn. And he’d bet none of his professors were either.

But he was in Long Island at the Culinary Institute of America and he was taking advantage of this opportunity.

It didn’t matter that it was demoralizing he wasn’t the head of his class like he felt he should be. That he wasn’t a standout here like back home. Or that he had so much more to learn than he’d ever imagined.

All that mattered was that he was going to prove himself. He wasn’t going to be looked at like the Southern boy whose parents owned and operated a pub. A guy who’d never make more of himself than frying up burgers and wings.

Nope. He and his siblings—the Fierce Five as they were dubbed—were going to transform the pub their parents had started into the hot spot of Charlotte. They were going to put Fierce on the map. And it was going to start with him. The food.

Just because things weren’t going as smoothly as he’d thought—hoped—didn’t mean he was going to let his family down. Just meant he had to work harder.

The five of them had made this plan. They all picked a path that suited their skill levels and personalities, and they were ready to do their part. They were going to give their parents the retirement they deserved.

Did he miss his three brothers and his sister? Absolutely. Like his soul was ripped from his body. In some ways, it felt exactly like that.

Quintuplets. Never separated at all. Now they were all on their own, though he was the farthest away. They talked when their schedules allowed, but it wasn’t enough. It never could be. It was as if his heart was missing a few beats almost daily.

But it’d only been a few months and it would get better, his mother assured him. She’d never been wrong before and he hoped she wasn’t this time.

He pushed the thoughts of family aside and crawled out of bed, then made his way to the shower. Time to get to work.

He didn’t need the money. He needed the experience. He felt he was behind the eight ball and he wasn’t going to continue to let that happen. Instead, he’d sought out the best he could find in New York and bartered free labor for mentoring. So far he was on his second place. A local bakery. They started baking at three every morning, but told him to be in at four. Lucky him for the extra hour of sleep.

At the end of his three-hour shift, he went back to his room and crashed face down on the bed, thrilled his classes wouldn’t start for another two hours.

When he finally made it to class—fifteen minutes early and not even the first one there, but at least not the last—he took his seat and waited for the instructor to arrive. Finals were being handed back early. Last day of class and then they were on their way for the holiday break.

He’d prepared and recreated his dish so many times he could do it in his sleep. Since he’d been dreaming of it for weeks, he practically had. He was banking on an A.

He had this.

He was going to move into that top spot before his first full year was over. He knew it!

When his paper was placed in front of him on the desk, all he saw was a note to go to the back page. He looked around the room and saw everyone’s grades were on the front.

Flipping to the back he didn’t see a grade but another note. One that said, “Forged/Copy, see me after class.”

He started to sweat. No way this was happening. His recipe was original. Everything was. No one had access to it. No one.

Now what? He couldn’t fail this class. He couldn’t fail period. But worse yet, with the strict rules on cheating, he could be expelled.

What would he tell his family? He couldn’t let them down.

He couldn’t be the one to crush the dreams of making Fierce what it was destined to be.