She’s turned my world upside down, inside out. And the thing is, I love it. If you had told me before I met her that there would come a time when I would delete the numbers of the models in my phone, when I’d be carefully preparing a picnic and agonizing over each thing I put in the basket, then I’d have said you were crazy, and probably had security escort you off the premises. But here I am.

I’ve never run from a challenge, never stopped at an obstacle. It’s just that, until now, the challenges I’ve faced have been the ones best tackled with brute force, with determined strength, focused decisiveness. Challenges that have made my body ache, my emotions spike, my talents stretch to their limits. Problems solved with animal strength and stubbornness.

But Willow…she’s a different kind of goal, and now the challenge is different. Now I need to open up old wounds and finally let them heal, unfurl the barriers I’ve erected between me and the world, allow myself to trust, to express, to love. It might be the hardest thing I’ve done yet, but the payoff is incredible.

I’m in such a good mood that I almost forget I have a mentoring date scheduled with Chloe when I turn up at Knife early one morning. She’s standing out front with Maggie waiting for me, and after exchanging a few pleasantries with Chloe’s supervisor I lead the girl into the restaurant to spend some time in the kitchen.

It’s not exactly what I had in mind for today, but if anything Willow has had me losing my temper a lot less, and going with the flow a lot more. We make for the industrial fridge to see what we can play with and then spend almost an hour cutting fresh produce into fancy shapes and building colorful mason jar salads, all while I give Chloe a lengthy discourse on where vinegar, salt, and different varieties of olive oil come from.

Maybe I’m starting to warm to the kid, or maybe it’s just this new perspective, but the time flies, and I’m about to show Chloe how to make Knife’s secret recipe house pesto when Maggie arrives to pick her back up. We thumbtack the pesto idea for next time, and once they’re gone I clean up and perform checks across the whole restaurant.

Michelle arrives first, as always, and I grab her attention as she’s putting on her whites in the hallway and tell her to stop by the office for a chat.

She looks calm but a little surprised as she sits in front of the desk, still tightening her dark, unruly curls into a ponytail.

“What’s up?” she says anxiously.

I don’t blame her for feeling a little bemused; Michelle’s good enough that we barely need to say anything to each other anymore. As a head chef she’s basically a machine, efficient, unyielding, and if she were to cash in all the days off that she’s owed we wouldn’t see her for months. Over the years she’s worked with me she’s also learned exactly how I operate, and can pretty much pre-empt what I’m gonna do before I actually do it—so the surprise in her deep brown eyes isn’t entirely unwarranted.

“How are things?” I ask, leaning forward in my office chair.

Michelle laughs, a short and easy one, ever relaxed and resourceful.

“Is this a performance review or something?”

Now I laugh. “No, nothing like that. Just been a while since we touched base.”

Michelle eyes me keenly. “You know you can be direct with me, Cole.”

I nod and laugh again. “Right. Ok. Tell me, what do you think about Willow?”

“Willow?”

“Yeah.”

Michelle pauses a second before speaking.

“As a chef or…”

“As a chef,” I say, smiling. Michelle’s as observant out of the kitchen as she is in it.

“Well she’s pretty great, honestly. Works fast, good communication, stays calm. She’s been a little off her game the past few days, but we’ve been a bit busier than usual and I’m sure it’s nothing worth worrying about. All in all I can’t fault her.”

I nod. Figures she’d be slipping a little here and there since we got together—I’d be slipping too with the way my mind’s been flying.

“You think she’d make a good head chef?”

“For the Vegas place?” Michelle asks, pausing again to pout and think. “Yeah. Probably. I know she’s young but she’s no amateur—she’s definitely ‘got it.’ It’s hard to say for sure, but I could definitely see her as head of a kitchen—later if not sooner. She thinks fast on her feet, is always on top of what’s going on in the kitchen, and there’s nothing she can’t cook…she doesn’t take any shit, either, despite Leo doing his whole ‘hazing’ thing.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear,” I say, leaning back a little at her confidence-affirming words. “It’s not for Las Vegas though—it’s for here.”

Michelle frowns, looks at me, then shakes her head. “I don’t understand. Are you letting me go?”

“Never. Nothing like that. But how about this: How would you feel about taking on the Vegas place?” I ask. “I’d rather have an experienced head like yours in charge of a new team than Willow.”

Michelle sits back as if winded by the news. “Hmm,” is all she says.

She stares stonily at some spot on the wall behind me, face blank, though I don’t need to be a mind reader to know she’s thinking at a million miles an hour.

“Of course, I’d do everything I can to support you out there. Find you a nice place—or put you up in a nice hotel suite until we find something you like. Relocation costs all covered in full, pay raise, and I’ll throw in a healthy bonus. New car. Whatever you want. I don’t want you thinking I’d put you out there ‘cause you’re not doing a good job here—if anything, you’re the only person who I know will have that place running like Knife inside a month. You’re the best I’ve got.”

“Yeah,” Michelle says, “I get it.”

She stares a little longer.

“Do you want to take some time to think about it?”

“No,” Michelle says, looking back at me finally with a smile. “I’ll do it.”

“You sure? I know it’s a big move, and you’ve been in L.A. half your life.”

“Yeah,” she says, with a little more conviction now, smile a little broader. “To be honest, I could do with a new challenge. I’ll miss the crew here, for sure. But this is just what I need right now. I’ve been feeling lately like, ‘what’s next?’ and I think this is it. The next step.”

“Congratulations. You’re gonna do a hell of a job.”

I offer my hand across the table and Michelle shakes it firmly.

“Little drink to celebrate?” I add, standing up and moving toward the wine crates.

“No thanks,” she says, standing up and tightening her ponytail again. “We’re low on béchamel and I’m expecting quite a few orders of the tuna mornay today.”

“Well don’t think you’re going to Las Vegas without having a drink on me first.”

Michelle laughs as she makes for the door, stopping once she has her hand on it to turn back. “Cole…”

“Yeah?”

“Did you speak to Willow already?”

“No. I was waiting for your answer first. I’m going to ask her today.”

Michelle nods.

“Well, she should be in for her shift soon. You want me to send her in?”

“That’s the idea.”

Michelle leaves and I take a moment to relax now that the hard part is done. I had no idea what she would say—Michelle’s life is a closed book—and if she’d said no to the Vegas job, I would have really had to rethink things.

Now, though, it’s just plain sailing. All I’ve gotta do is wait for my girl to walk through those doors, and then offer her the job of a lifetime. I take the flowers I picked up for her and the delicately-wrapped gift out from under the desk and place them in front of me. I select the perfect wine from the crate and pull it close, ready to open and celebrate.

I’m about to make both our dreams come true.