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The Good Kind

Guest Louise_2983

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Story Title: The Good Kind

Type of story: Medium/Long fiction

Main Characters: Roman, mentions of Nicole and Natalie, OCs

Rating: A

Genre: Romance, Drama, Angst

Does story include spoilers: None

Any warnings: Sexual content, mild language, other warnings will be given as necessary

Summary: After leaving the army Roman moves to the UK to train as a chef and meets someone who will change his life forever...

For Marigoldy...

Chapter One

Working in the busy kitchen of a five star restaurant often reminded Roman Harris of being back on the front line. Constant pressure to get everything perfect right down to the tiniest detail played on his stressed mind, arid and boiling air seeped under the collar of his pristine white shirt stifling him and the loud and piercing orders of the first in command were incessantly being screeched over deafening levels of background noise.

If he had the time to close his eyes even for a second he could be back there with gunshots ringing out around him and his heart pounding a million times a minute. He wasn’t sure which was preferable in that moment, the adrenaline filled rush of fighting for his country and placing his life on the line or facing the wrath of his superior, the head chef at the top restaurant he now worked in, when he inevitably failed to live up to his ridiculous unattainable standards as he did every night, as every member of staff did. From assistant chef right down to the bus boys.

The atmosphere was strained and uncomfortable to say the very least. The tyrannical reign of the Michelin starred chef the food world dictated they should all bow down and worship was making work hell for every other member of staff, yet they all bit their tongues and got on with it, every second feeling more like an eternity as they battled on through their shifts, rushing out of the door as soon as the clock indicated they could.

Roman didn’t know why he put up with it. Sure he wanted to be a chef. He always had. Years of watching his parents run their little family restaurant in Airlie Beach and create mouth water master pieces from fresh, local ingredients had instilled in him the desire to do the same, although on a bigger and better scale, but slaving away in that kitchen every night, being treated like an imbecile when his work was impeccable anyway was not what he had imagined in the slightest.

A call for the dessert for table 9 pressed the fast forward button on his internal remote as he added the finishing touches to the decorative effects, a sprinkle of sugar and a slither of ruby red coolis shaped in the signature V of the restaurant with a flick of his wrist. He hurried to complete it as a familiar waitress clicked the heels of her black leather court shoes together behind him impatiently almost as though she was Dorothy but without the glitter, eager for him to finish so she could deliver the food to the correct table and be one step closer to going home.

“Howay man hurry up!” she sighed in her familiar Geordie accent that he had to secretly admit to himself he found very attractive. Even if half of the time he didn’t understand a word she was saying.

“Stop all the faffing about making it look pretty, they’re only going to eat it anyway! Ye are worse than me Mam!” she grinned as he finally finished and handed over the desert to her, flashing her his best smile as she rolled her big green eyes in response and sashayed back out of the kitchen into the heaving restaurant leaving him wondering if the extra wiggle of her behind was intended for his benefit or not.

Either way he enjoyed it.

“Harris!” his superior barked loudly seeing his second in command being distracted by the particularly pretty waitress and not being impressed at all.

“Keep your eyes off the girls and on the dessert section! Two caramelised pears for table 7, one with pine nuts, one with out!” he ordered thrusting the order slip Roman had been too slow to pick up into his chest.

“Yes Chef!” Roman rolled off his tongue obediently as the head chef stomped away muttering loudly “If you’ve got a nut allergy then just order something that doesn’t come with nuts! It’s not rocket


“Neither is knowing when to cut your losses and hand your notice in!” Caitlyn, the attractive waitress he’d been enchanted with a few minutes earlier hissed as she re-entered the kitchen and was

instantly snapped at for not being quick enough and wearing shoes that were too high to run in, in the chef’s opinion. Roman didn’t see the problem with them, she was waiting tables not running a

marathon and they only served to enhance her long, slender legs that seemed to go on forever.

“Aww don’t I’d miss you” he grinned as, still distracted by thoughts of her legs, he accidentally knocked over the sugar, coughing as it spluttered up into his face and covered his black trousers like


“You could come too” she giggled at the sight of him.

“We could start up our own restaurant, run this one into the ground....but you’d have to stop being so clarty” she nodded with reference to the mess he’d just made.

Wiping the sugar from his brow he looked up at her and frowned.

“I swear sometimes you just throw them in to confuse me!” he grinned at yet another piece of Geordie slang that befuddled him.

“It means dirty” she told him, rolling her pretty eyes again.

“Right” his lips kicked up into a smirk, one eyebrow arching suggestively.

“So you want me to be less dirty?”

“Oh behave you!” she slapped him playfully in the chest, picked up the next order, turned around and strutted out of the kitchen confidently. This time he was pretty sure the extra wiggle was meant for

him and he grinned widely.

His grin dissolved when she returned a few minutes later and had to deliver the news that two of the tables were sending their food back after being dissatisfied with the quality. The food in question had

been prepared by the head chef so he had no one to blame but himself but predictably he instantly went beserk, screaming at Caitlyn that she must have screwed up the orders and it was her fault not


She stood her ground, biting back and defending herself but as the chef got louder and angrier and his face got redder and redder Roman couldn’t stand back any longer, stepping forward to intervene

just as another petrified waitress scuttled back into kitchen carrying a load of plates and dishes and clattered straight into him, sending the tower of crockery crashing to the floor and splashing remains

of the soup of the day all over him adding to the sugar from earlier.

Instantly the entire kitchen went silent, all eyes on where he stood next to Caitlyn and the Chef in the centre of the room with celeriac soup dripping from his shirt like water from a shower head.

“I’m so sorry!” the clumsy, mousy haired waitress cringed trying to rub the soup from his shirt with her apron.

“It’s fine” he reassured her, taking hold of her hand to stop the rubbing that was doing no good anyway. If anything it was making the stain worse.

“No it’s not fine!” the chef snapped his round face puffing out in anger.

“I’m sick of working with a bunch of no good imbeciles who can’t even get an order right or carry a plate!”

“Then just get out!” Roman snapped like a fraying elastic with no more to give and a collective gasp of shock went around the kitchen like a Mexican wave.

“Roman!” The middle aged owner hissed as she came into the kitchen to find out what all the commotion was.

“There’s no need for that”

“Yes there is!” he replied trying to control his anger.

“He makes working here hell, so either he goes or...” he paused to look at the other members of staff scanning their faces in an attempt to decipher whether they would be in agreement with him and

deciding to risk it anyway as he couldn’t continue like this.

“Or we all do...right?” he questioned looking around at his colleagues again.

“Right” Caitlyn instantly backed him up her big green eyes locking with his and giving him a weak smile as one by one the others all verbalised their agreement too.

“Well?” Roman asked staring at his nemesis and suddenly feeling a surge of confidence.

“I’m better than this place anyway” he announced dramatically pulling off his chef’s hat and slapping it on the counter before storming out.

“This place will die a painful death without me!”

“He better be wrong Chef” the owner nodded at Roman.

“What?” he looked back at her in disbelief.

“Well you just sacked my head chef effectively...so now you better replace him and you better do a damn good job...and oh” she added as an after thought as she turned to go back into the restaurant

and placate her customers.

“At least change that shirt first!”

A chorus of cheers and a round of applause from a few of his colleagues erupted as the door swung shut behind the owner and he blushed a little.

“Oh just get back to work!” he laughed a little embarrassed as Caitlyn nudged him playfully, calling over her shoulder as she went to fetch a dust pan and brush from the store cupboard.

“Don’t you turn into a dictator too now!”

“That’s not going to happen” he laughed following her so he could get a new shirt, working on undoing the gold buttons of the one he was wearing as he went.

Locating the dust pan she span around quickly to leave the cold room they were alone in, finding herself face to face with his bare, muscular chest and licking her lips slightly before she had time to

register what she was doing.

“This isn’t a good idea” he told her his own eyes wandering over her gorgeous face as a few stray tendrils of red hair fell from the ponytail which swung behind her. His fingertips itched to reach out and

push them away from her face but he resisted.

“What isn’t?” she played dumb looking up at him through her long, mascara coated lashes.

“How old are you?” he asked suddenly.

“Old enough” she grinned back at him and he raised his eyebrows slightly annoyed at the deflection.

“21” she sighed at his expression.

“Exactly...I’m old enough to be you-“

“Big brother?” she interrupted placing particular emphasis on the first word as she gave in to temptation and ran her fingertips over his chest.

“Age is just a number Roman and I have not spent the past three months flirting with you to walk away now!”

“So that was flirting huh?” he couldn’t help but grin and her tummy fluttered at the gesture.

“Oh so you did notice? I was beginning to think it was more than just me accent you didn’t understand!”

“I understood” he carried on grinning but couldn’t shrug off the nagging doubt inside.

“But you’re 21”

“So?” she looked up at him, pressing herself against his bare chest, her lips so close he could almost taste the slick of cherry flavoured lip gloss coating them.

He let out a sigh of satisfaction as he bowed his head to kiss her after months of anticipation at the exact same moment the door flung open slamming straight into his back.

“Roman? Cait? Today would be nice!” one of the junior chefs laughed as Roman hurriedly pulled on a clean shirt and Caitlyn sighed in exasperation mouthing “Later” to him as she made her way back

into the kitchen.

He grinned and couldn’t resist using one of her favourite Geordie terms, whispering it against her ear as he passed.


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If this were a newspaper headline it would read - Bradyell in non-adelle fic shocker! :D

Loved it Louise :D usually only read the adelle fics but as it was you writing i thought i'd have a peek, sooooooo glad i did!

Love Roman and Caitlyn seems lovely or should i say a right canny lass! :lol:

Looking forward to more :D

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