Chapter Ten
Everly
I walked away from Maddox with trembling legs. The note was in my purse, and it was difficult to keep from reading it over and over again. A job offer? His personal chef? The salary? It was like a dream. Everything about it screamed fake. He would laugh at me if I took it, telling me it was a joke and that I was a naive little girl. He was older than me. Maybe it was a lesson.
But his face had been so serious as he offered the position. The same stubble across his chin, the same deep, gray eyes that seemed to look nowhere else but at me, the same smirk that crossed his face as he smiled at something I said. Maybe he wasn’t joking. Maybe it was real.
I clocked into work and tied my apron around my waist. It was busy for a Friday, which meant I would have almost no time for myself. I didn’t have time to be distracted. I had to blanche fries, prepare tomatoes, sauté mushrooms, and dice onions. The other chefs moved around me in a familiar pattern, until we were synchronized in a cooking dance.
“You’re distracted,” Catalina said, and I paid her little attention as I pureed carrots.
“Maybe,” I said as a plan formulated in my head. We began to slow into the few silent moments between lunch and dinner, and soon I was able to breathe.
The note was surely buried deep within my purse by now, but that didn’t stop it from taking over my mind. His phone number, just a few scribbles on a note, was all I could think about. That and the fact that I was going nowhere in this restaurant, with no recognition or way up.
“Are the truffles ready?” Sergio, another station chef, asked. I glanced at my prep counter and found a pile of mushrooms that had been waiting for pickup for nearly three hours.
“They were washed hours ago,” I said and handed them to him.
“Hours ago?” He huffed.” They’ll lose their flavor that way. We have more, right?”
I shook my head. “I was told to have these washed and ready hours ago, which I did. It’s not my fault you didn’t pick them up in time.”
Sergio snarled and snatched them from my hand. “I’ll talk to Phil about this,” he said and returned to his counter.
Of course, I thought. I wouldn’t expect anything less.
It wasn’t the first time a station chef forgot an ingredient. But they were never blamed for their faults, no, it was always the prep’s wrongdoings.
“Don’t listen to him,” Catalina said as she passed me. “He always threatens to run to Phil.”
I smiled and thanked her, but I had had enough.
The moment I was finished prepping, I barged into Phil’s office without knocking.
“Everly!” he exclaimed, stammering as he apologized to whomever he spoke with on the phone. “Did I call you in here?”
“No,” I said. “I’ll wait for you to finish.”
I stood in the corner as he frowned and told the speaker he’d call them back, and hung up.
“What is it now?” he asked, as if I often interrupted him during important phone calls.
“I received an offer earlier,” I said. “A job offer.” I clarified as he stared at me with a blank look.
“Oh? What for?” he said carefully.
“A personal chef. To someone very wealthy.” I kept Maddox’s name out of my mouth. “He offered me way more than you ever could, but, Phil, I’d be more than happy to stay if it was certain that I’d at least have a shot at head chef in the next two years.”
There was a moment where Phil considered my plea. He glanced at his files, his phone, and finally at me.
“Everly,” he began. “Do you really think anyone else would put up with you the way that I do?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You’re always late,” he said. “Always running in here when you should be working. Always trying to get ahead of everyone else, not caring who falls in your path. The way you speak to me,” he shook his head. “No one else would put up with this. Especially not a ‘wealthy man’ who is apparently offering you more than I am.”
“I’ve worked my ass off for years,” I pleaded. “I stay in that kitchen until two, sometimes three, in the morning. Why am I always late? Because no one else stays that late, and I’m the only one who even cleans the kitchen. I get maybe four hours of sleep, on a good night, before I’m awake and on my way, here.”
“Regardless of your motivations, when I have you scheduled at 10, I expect you to be here at 10 on the dot,” Phil said.
“So you won’t even let me try to move up the ladder here?” I asked one more time.
“You are exactly where you need to be,” he said, repeating the same words as every other time I’d asked about a promotion.
“Okay,” I nodded, fidgeting with the edges of my sleeves. “I don’t think I can be here anymore then. Thank you for the opportunity, Phil, but I quit.” I turned, my heart beating so hard that I feared it might explode. I heard Phil stand abruptly from his seat.
“Good luck finding anyone else to put up with this!” he yelled, but I was already walking out of his office, and out of Saint Padres.
“You’re what?!” Lacey yelled. I winced, pulling the phone away from my ear. I sat in my car, still parked in the cramped parking lot on Fifth, and munched on a bag of muffins purchased from the cat cafe. I had sat there for the better part of an hour, reliving every moment of the day.
“I had to do something,” I said. “I was never going to get anywhere there. And this new job as Maddox’s chef? It could lead somewhere, Lace. He has connections that I could only dream about.” I dusted off cat hair from my favorite tuxedo.
“You don’t know anything about him!” Lacey yelled. I could practically hear her slapping her head. “You don’t know if he’s going to keep his word, or if his checks will bounce or clear.”
I thought about his fancy suits, the watch that cost more than both of my college degrees, and how much he paid for a single date with me.
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” I said.
“He could be a murderer.” Lacey loved stating the obvious. “Or a weird pervert. God, I don’t know what would be worse.”
“Or he could just be a bored billionaire who actually wants to learn how to cook,” I offered, but Lacey wasn’t taking it.
“Just think this through, Everly. Please, this is way too risky for someone like you. You’re giving up your career for some guy you don’t even know.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. “Someone like me?”
“You just don’t take unnecessary risks,” she said. “Everything you’ve done has been for your career.”
“That’s the thing. This is for my career. I’m going to be a chef for one of the richest guys in Seattle. It’ll look amazing on my resume,” I repeated Maddox’s words.
“Just promise me you’ll think about this,” Lacey pleaded. “You can probably get your job back if you apologize today.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but realized it was useless with Lacey. Becoming a mom made you more careful, paranoid. I knew she was only this troublesome because she cared, and I couldn’t blame her.
“Of course, yeah,” I said. “I’ll call you later.”
“Don’t do anything crazy,” she said, and we exchanged our goodbyes.
Don’t do anything crazy.
I stared at my phone, and the piece of paper waiting on the console of my car. His phone number was in clear view, and so was the salary. Lacey was right, at least. This was possibly the biggest risk I’d ever take. And it was one I needed. I was doing the right thing. It was hard to explain, but somehow, at that moment, I knew it was the right thing.
I dialed Maddox’s number, and within a minute, his voice spoke from the other line.
“Hello?” he answered.
“It’s Everly,” I said. “Everly Winters.” I winced. I don’t think he knew my last name.
“Everly, how are you?” He seemed pleased to hear from me, and surprised.
“All I have to do is cook all your meals, and teach you how to make them?” I asked, and confirmed the salary.
“Of course,” he said. “With bonuses on holidays.”
“How much of a bonus?” I asked.
“Double what you’d normally get,” he said, and I sighed. What would I even do with all this money?
“I’ll take it,” I said, crumpling up the piece of paper in my palm.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said smoothly, as if he’d expected this the whole time. “Are you able to start on Monday?”
“This Monday? Yeah, I can be there,” I said.
“Perfect, I’ll send you my address, and I’ll see you no later than 6 that evening. Let’s start with dinner and go from there.”
“Okay. Thanks so much.”
He said goodbye, and hung up.
I threw my phone in my purse and covered my mouth. Adrenaline rushed over me, making me want to jump and skip and curl into a ball all at the same time.
I had quit my job, and taken an offer of a lifetime from a handsome man who seemed to take up way too much of my thoughts.
This was just a job, I reminded myself.
And hopefully his word was good.