The thoughts spiraled through me, anchoring my feet to the ground when all my body wanted to do was float away.
I could do this. I could impress Ezra.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
Okay, at the very least I could manage to get through casually meeting him tonight without un-impressing him. That was my goal—don’t un-impress him.
I cleared my throat, hiding the wobble waiting in the wings. “Oh yeah? When do you think that will be?”
She lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I have no idea. Who knows why or when the man does the things that he does.”
I had been in the kitchen all night, working alongside Vera and getting a feel for the Sarita kitchen. Service was so different here. I hadn’t expected to feel quite so out of my depth.
Most of the reservations at Lilou were for two-tops, seating two people, and the occasional four-top. Because the reservation list was so many months out, most people only risked including one other person—usually a person they were legally bound to by marriage. Or on a date seriously trying to impress the other party. But at Sarita everything was a massive party. And I didn’t mean the vibe of this place. Every table had four plus diners. And they ordered copious amounts of dishes thanks to the way they were served stacked on top of each other.
In Lilou’s kitchen, our normal table needed two plates finished at the same time. Here we were talking an average of six to eight plates ready all at once. And twice tonight, we’d had three orders of fifteen plus plates.
I had stopped thinking terrible thoughts about Juan Carlo three hours ago. I’d decided that he was a saint to put up with this for as long as he did. I also understood why this kitchen was messier than I was used to. At the speed people moved around this kitchen, it was no wonder it had been total chaos. These people didn’t just cook, they flew.
Vera paused over the dish she was finishing in tandem with mine and smiled at me. “Don’t be nervous,” she encouraged. “You’re fabulous.”
I was sweaty. And maybe smelly. Like, I said, tonight had been a doozy. But to Vera, I said, “Thanks. And thanks for doing this with me. Even if I don’t get the job, this has been a great experience.”
Her smile widened with genuine kindness. “First of all, if you don’t get this job, Ezra is bananas. Because you’re amazing. And second, there are plenty of other positions around the city that you would be great for. This isn’t your only shot.” She leaned in. “For instance, I know of a great little up and coming restaurant that could use good staff.”
I laughed. “Is it that new place called Pepper?”
She frowned immediately. “Don’t joke. That’s literally my biggest fear. Killian wants to name the baby Pepper. He’s all, get it? And I’m like, OMG, stop.”
“The baby?”
Her eyes widened until they were the size of the moon. “Oh my God. I didn’t mean to say that!” Her head whipped right and left checking out who had overheard. Satisfied that her words had been lost in the clatter of dinner service, she leaned in and begged, “Please don’t say anything to anyone, Kaya! We’re keeping it a secret for a while longer. We haven’t even told our families and they will be pissed if they’re the last ones to find out.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I told her, my smile so big it hurt my cheeks. “I won’t say anything. But I am so, so happy for you!”
Her cheeks turned pink, but the panicked look on her face softened. “Thank you. It’s super early. I mean, I haven’t even been to the doctor yet. I’ve only peed on a stick. And puked my guts out for the last two weeks. All signs point to baby.” She smiled down at her nonexistent tummy. “But I’ll feel better after my first checkup.”
“Gah!” I squealed again. “This is so exciting!”
She laughed. “And also, maybe the worst timing ever with Salt opening in two months and the wedding coming up. But at least I won’t be showing too badly for our wedding. I would die if I had to take my dress back. It’s too pretty to part with.”
My shoulders sagged, and an ache spread over my chest. “Listen to you, Vera. Has your life ever been this perfect? You literally have everything going for you right now.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know about that.”
I held up a hand and ticked off reasons why she was my superhero. “You’re engaged to one of the hottest chefs in the country. And he’s good-looking.” I winked at her to be cute. “You’re also having his baby. And getting married. Oh, and you’re opening your dream restaurant. I mean, seriously, you are the definition of happily ever after.”
“Hey, happily ever after is a lot of work.” She frowned again. “It’s also been covered in puke lately.”
I laughed with her, but I couldn’t help but feel jealous. And something worse. Something like despair. Standing next to Vera, I felt wholly unqualified to work in this kitchen or in this industry or even as a basic human. She was a true superstar. She had this amazing fiancé and an incredible business that was bound to take off with the two of them involved.
And she was going to have Killian Quinn’s child. I mean, could you imagine the palate on that baby? It was bound to come out of the womb wielding a sauté pan.
She nudged me with her shoulder as she finished the final touches to the plate in front of me and handed it off to the server. “Seriously, Kaya, you’re sweet, but there is nothing to be jealous of. You’ll get your version of happily ever after too. It won’t look exactly like mine, but it shouldn’t. You deserve your special thing and for it to be tailored to you.” She smiled gently. “And you’ll find it too. Whoever it’s with… whichever restaurant you work in… whatever you end up doing… it will work out. It’s probably going to be completely different than anything you thought you were going to do or be or marry. Life has a way of taking all of our expectations, flipping them on their heads, and then laughing at us while we flounder around in search of which piece goes where.”
“That’s…” I cleared my throat, searching for something polite to say. I didn’t find anything. “Interesting.”
Her head tipped back, and she laughed harder. “That was supposed to encourage you.”
“Oh, it did,” I deadpanned. “I can’t wait for my life to be so totally different than what I actually wanted. That sounds awesome.”
She grinned again and accepted new plates getting ready to leave the kitchen. “I didn’t want to marry a chef,” she confessed. “I was in a terrible relationship during school and after. He was a chef. And he abused me.”
I sucked in an audible breath. How did I respond to that? How was a person supposed to react? What was the social code? Who the hell cares about the social code?
“Oh my God, Vera.” I swallowed down the quick rage against any monster that would put his hands on a girl, but especially Vera—who was kind, and so generous, and one of the most kickass chefs I’d ever met.
She waved a hand in the air, swatting away the past. “It’s over now.” Her gaze grew distant and her shoulders jerked with a shiver. “Thank God, it’s over.” She faced me again, clear-eyed and somber. “What I’m trying to say is this. After Derrek, I was convinced I would never be able to cook in a commercial kitchen ever again. I never ever thought I’d date again, but if I did, I knew it wouldn’t be a chef. Never, ever again.”
“Derrek is a chef?” I asked quietly, unable to quell my curiosity.
She lifted one shoulder and rubbed her chin on it. “Derrek Hanover.”
Holy shit! He was a decently big deal in North Carolina. He didn’t have the national acclaim that Killian did. I’d never been impressed enough to find out more than he owned a mildly popular, newly opened restaurant.
“Vera, I’m so sorry,” I told her.
“He was the worst,” Vera whispered. “After we, er I, ended things, I gave up on my dream of working in a restaurant completely. But then I opened Foodie, my consolation prize, and I met Killian. Now here we are, opening a restaurant together. And I never thought…??
? She paused, looking down at the counter and hiding the emotion in her eyes from me. “I never had a clue a relationship could be this good. Or that a man could be this amazing. Or that it was possible to have all the things that I wanted so badly, but for them to look so different. I would never relive those years of abuse or giving up on my dreams. But they led me here, to this place, and it’s so beautiful and so fulfilling that I don’t know that I’d totally give them up either.”
Now my eyes were watery with unshed tears. “You have a powerful story, friend.”
She only shrugged. “It didn’t feel powerful while I was going through it.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You’re amazing, Vera. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
She laughed and held up her scrawny bicep. “I mean, check out these guns, right?”
I laughed with her. “That is not at all what I meant, and you know it!”
She pulled up the next plate and smiled at me. “I know. But I didn’t share that for you to think I’m amazing. I’m the idiot that got involved with the psycho to begin with. I’m only trying to say that no matter where you’re at right now, you have the potential and the grit to do what you want to do, Kaya. It’s up to you. Whatever it is you want, you have to go hard after it and trust in the journey.”
Her words hit a chord inside of me, plucking the taut string with deft fingers and sending the reverberation of sound echoing through my body. She was right. I just needed to trust in the journey.
Weirdly, I wasn’t even thinking about Sarita in that moment. I was thinking about Wyatt. And the fear and panic that had crippled progress with him.
“You got out,” I told Vera, deciding she needed to hear truth too. “That doesn’t make you an idiot. That makes you amazing.”
She rolled her eyes. “You have no idea how long it took me though. And I—”
“Stop.” It was an order and a plea. “Vera, seriously, stop. Stop downplaying what you did. You got out. You’re a hero because you got out.”
“Thank you,” she whispered sincerely. “I need to remember that. Sometimes I feel amazing, like he can’t touch me ever again. And sometimes I feel like a weak, spineless girl that let herself be abused. But I’m neither. I’m somewhere in the middle. I’m healing. I might always be healing. You’re right though. And Killian reminds me all the time. He’s the villain, but I’m not the victim. I’m the hero.”
Smiling at her, I blinked away tears and focused on the plates again. “I love being right.”
We were laughing again when the kitchen door whooshed open in a dramatic, slow motion sequence. The dramatic, slow motion sequence might have been in my head.
Regardless, Ezra entered this sacred space and nearly all motion ground to a halt for a solid five seconds before jump-starting again with new vigor. The boss was here and everybody in the kitchen felt the pressure. It wouldn’t have surprised me if the diners suddenly started eating with more gusto and better manners too.
I swallowed down the gurgling nerves that wouldn’t settle no matter how many rational whispers of affirmation I told myself.
This isn’t the interview. If this doesn’t work out, there will be other opportunities.
Ezra’s not as scary as you think he is. Molly likes him, and Molly is a totally rational, normal, chicken just like you! If she can handle him, you can handle him.
He surveyed his kitchen as I imagined a general inspected his troops before battle. His shrewd eyes bounced from one person to the next, to the equipment and the food leaving the kitchen. He saw everything at once and had already passed his judgment. For better or worse, we were what he had to work with. It was impossible to tell if that pleased him or infuriated him.
A few staff members waved or said hello, but he merely nodded in return. For a man recently engaged, he wasn’t exactly the shade of matrimonial bliss.
“Hey, Ezra,” Vera greeted sweetly as she passed another stack of tapas to a waiting server. “Long time no see.” Her gaze swiveled back to mine and she explained, “Killian and I met them for a celebratory lunch today.”
He rubbed his red eyes. “We drank too much.”
Vera smiled. “You drank too much. I had to work.”
He blinked at her. “Yeah, I thought Killian was going to be here.”
“Killian is working at our restaurant.” She paused, and I thought she might have been waiting for that to register with him, but he didn’t comment. “Anyway,” she went on, “I’m doing you this huge favor tonight so Kaya can work alongside me.”
Ezra’s attention moved to me as if noticing me in Sarita’s kitchen for the first time. “You don’t belong here.”
It wasn’t a harsh statement, more like a neutral observation. He wasn’t accusing me of anything, only sliding the missing puzzle piece into place.
I didn’t know what to say though. Apparently, he was drunk or maybe just tipsy or on the other side of either heading toward hungover. However, all of those scenarios were less than ideal because he seemed cranky.
Pitching myself to the regular version of Ezra, who was terse, demanding, and obstinate in general, was hard enough. But having to convince him I was right for this restaurant was an entirely different beast of impossible.
Straightening my spine and steeling my courage, I lifted my chin and said, “I beg to differ.”
“What does that mean?” Ezra asked through a yawn while he rubbed his eyes again.
“I think I could belong here,” I ventured, swallowing the wobble in my voice. “If you let me try. I think I could be your executive.”
He focused on me fully while Vera moved down the stainless-steel island to give us space. “You want to be Sarita’s chef?” He rested his body weight on his hands. “Kaya, you want to leave Lilou for Sarita?”
Isn’t that what you did? was on the tip of my tongue, but I decided making jokes at the expense of his dating life probably wasn’t the best way to land my dream job.
“Yes,” I told him, feeling the truth of that one simple word down to the bottom of my soul. “I want her, Ezra. I think I was made for her.”
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Will that put Wyatt out?”
I shrugged, knowing I should be more professional, but now that the truth of what I wanted was out there, I couldn’t play coy. “He has other options. This is a once in a lifetime chance for me. I want to at least try.”
“I have several people interested in the job. You’re going to have to apply like everybody else.”
“That’s okay,” I told him honestly. “I’d love the chance to show you that I’m the best.”
He smiled at my sassy reply.
I held my game face in place even though the words were more bravado than anything else. My knees were currently trembling, and my nauseous scale was tipping towards violent. “I also have good references.” I inclined my head toward Vera.
He made a sound in the back of his throat. “References that are highly motivated to get out of doing the job themselves.”
Vera’s hands slammed playfully on the stainless steel. “Because we have our own damn kitchen to run.”
He smiled at me, ignoring Vera. “I see my ploy to hire them back isn’t working out like I’d planned.”
“Ezra!” Vera gasped.
I laughed because I could only hope that was a joke. If it was true, I was in trouble. There was no way I could compete against Killian. Not because he was such a superior chef. I mean, there were plenty of those out there. But because Killian owned the real estate on all of Ezra’s kindness. I supposed Molly got a portion too.
Ezra wrapped his knuckles on the counter. “Okay, Kaya. One shot. Make me a meal that will change my life. I want three courses and a dessert in the style of Sarita. So at least ten plates, but I’ll accept up to sixteen. The best you’ve got. I’ll also need a resume, references, and a letter of recommendation from Killian and Wyatt. I know you’ve been Wyatt’s sous chef for less than a year, but that s
hould have been enough time for him to know your style and if you’ll fit in over here.”
I’d pulled out my phone to quickly take notes on everything he said. “When?” I asked, feeling breathless and weightless and scared shitless.
His head bobbled back and forth as he decided. “You can have one week. Next Monday, Sarita is closed over lunch. Is that enough time?”
“Yes.” No. “I can’t wait.” Oh my God! “This will be so much fun.” I’m going to die.
His smile was knowing, making it—and him—evil as he turned and walked away.
He knew Monday wasn’t enough time to put together the ten to sixteen course meal that would change his life and make him hire me at Sarita. It was nowhere near enough time, but that was probably his design. I couldn’t help but think back to my conversation with Dillon, praying and hoping she was right, that he wasn’t sexist, that he wanted to hire Vera.
Because if Vera had a shot, then so did I.
Hopefully.
Maybe.
We’d soon find out.
I turned to Vera and gave her a shaky smile.
“Oh, my god!” she squealed before I could talk. “That was amazing!”
“I think I’m going to puke.”
She put her hands on my shoulders and shook my body roughly, apparently not caring about my puke warning. “You’re going to rock the shit out of this interview!”
“I think I should sit down.”
“Do you know how he, like, never does that? Like ever? I’ve never seen him take an interview like that. Never. I mean, last I knew, he was planning on hiring headhunters to look for the replacement. I know there are people interested in the job, but he’s very particular this time around.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better?” I shook my head rapidly. “You’re not making me feel better.”
Her smile stretched. “You’ve got so much work to do.”
“I feel like you’re enjoying this.”
She laughed, the sadistic little nymph. “So much. This is so entertaining to me.”