The Princess and the Nerd (Silver Mountain #4) Read Online Olivia Noble

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Silver Mountain Series by Olivia Noble
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Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
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Willow Wintergreen’s new restaurant has been trashed by a nasty review from an influential food critic. A handsome, nerdy, condescending celebrity chef who has the power to crush her dreams with one sarcastic swipe of his pen.
When Mr. Bigshot Critic’s visit goes horribly and hilariously wrong, he calls Willow a spoiled rotten Princess, and calls her food much, much worse. Comparisons to mouse droppings have been made.
Business starts to die, and Willow knows she must find a way to change the critic’s mind—or become the pitiful embarrassment of her successful family. She invites the critic to her brother’s wedding as a gesture of goodwill. But the London-born, Indian chef is the most uptight, frustrating, grumpy, and impossibly hot man that Willow has ever met.
The two drive each other insane every time they meet. Every word exchanged between them seems to be a snarky insult. There’s only one way this can end: in a ferocious food fight, or with someone getting taken on the dining table.

FULL BOOK START HERE:

Chapter 1

Willow

Crisp white tablecloths? Check. Sparkling wine glasses? Check.

A team of incredibly talented professionals, including two of my closest friends? Check.

Everything is going perfectly well tonight. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

I walk briskly through the dining room, checking and double checking that everything is set up correctly. My slight OCD forces me to adjust and readjust a few positions of the centerpieces until they are perfectly aligned. Candles and fresh flowers in vases are a necessary touch for the romantic ambience of our upscale, fine-dining experience. It’s going to be a perfect night.

My fingertips nudge the roses a bit to the left. Then to the right. After a few more probably-unnecessary adjustments, I take a deep breath.

You got this, Willow. You got this.

Walking back into the kitchen confidently, I gather the troops for a pep talk.

“Okay, team!” I say, clapping my hands to get their attention. “As you all know, we are expecting an important food critic tonight. I need you all to be at the top of your game.”

“Who’s the critic?” a sous-chef asks. “Maybe we can cater to their special tastes.”

“It’s probably that woman from that magazine,” whispers a waiter. “I forget the name.”

“The Vermont Kitchen one?” asks another chef.

“No, the New England travel guide.”

“You’re all wrong,” says the sommelier, checking his phone. “I have insider information that it’s H.D. McGuinty from Wine and Food International.”

“Oh, shit,” says my best friend, Destiny. “I need to retouch my makeup. Isn’t that the guy who put a three Michelin-starred restaurant in New York out of business?”

“The very same.”

“Well, the pressure’s on.”

When everyone starts exchanging worried looks and chatter, I step forward. “Relax, guys! No need to stress—it’s just an ordinary day. We just do what we always do—maybe with a pinch more pizzazz! We’ll sprinkle a little more greatness on the food tonight.”

But some of the waitresses look anxious. “Is he a McGuinty like the loaded Silver Mountain family? Maybe we could flirt with him. What do you think he’ll order?”

“Probably a steak or lobster. He’s probably old, so something basic. What do you think H.D. stands for anyway?”

“High Definition?” someone whispers.

“Heavy Duty,” another woman says with a giggle.

“Okay,” I say, clapping my hands together again briskly. “Let’s continue with prep. Everyone to their stations. It’s Friday night, and we are booked solid with reservations. Gonna be a busy one!”

Everyone stops gossiping about the mystery man and heads back to work. Except for Destiny, who takes my arm and pulls me aside.

“Girl, did you even sleep last night?” she asks, as she reaches into her giant purse and pulls out a wand of concealer. She adds three dots underneath both my eyes, evenly spaced, then begins to pat and blend the makeup out gently with her fingertips.

“I got at least one hour,” I tell her. Then I frown. “Dez, why do you even have concealer in my skin tone?”

“Because I hate seeing puffy dark circles under your eyes. And you never sleep.”

“That’s really kind of you,” I tell her with a thankful smile.

“Also, I must have accidentally grabbed it off the bathroom countertop when I stole your lipstick,” she admits.

I chuckle softly. “With friends like you, who needs a sister?”

“Your lipstick is just crazy good, and you never even use it,” she complains. Reaching into her purse, she pulls out the slender, elegant golden tube. She removes the cap and twists it, before adding a touch of color to my mouth. “Press your lips together,” she instructs. I do, and she nods. “There we go. It’s a big night, Will, I can’t have you walking around here looking like a pale, white ghost.”

“Much appreciated,” I tell her with a sigh, and a little roll of my eyes.

She grins, and spanks my ass, before moving away. “You got this, girl.”

And I think I do. I move around the kitchen, supervising everything as the specials of the day are being prepared. Our famous clam chowder is simmering. Destiny’s strawberry rhubarb pie is almost finished being freshly baked, and it smells divine. That pie is so good that she usually has to bake extra for the restaurant staff to take home—and sometimes people come in for just the pie.


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