Chapter 4
Chance
Victoria was in a good mood.
She was sleepy as hell, however. She’d finished four thousand words on the manuscript of her novel last night, and ended up going to bed at five a.m. It barely gave her a few hours of sleep, and enough time to do her laundry that had been piling up since the week before.
Four thousand words! She was rarely that productive. She’d been writing that novel for a year now, but things have been going at such a slow pace. There was always something more urgent to attend to. But something had inspired her yesterday. Maybe the fact that the interview had been an utter disappointment, and, afterwards, spending some quality best friend time with Nicolette and forcing her to come to terms with the lack of excitement in her life. Whatever it was, she hoped it was the start of a new writing streak. Before last night, she hadn’t touched her manuscript in two weeks.
That should be enough doughnuts for today, she thought, putting the last one in the cake display case. It wasn’t her job to cook, but making the doughnuts was a special task she liked doing. She had spent the past two hours frying them and dipping them in sugar, it now was time for her to work the tables. “I’m heading out front, Mack. You can handle things here, right?”
Ellis McClay was frying something on the stove with his back to her. He waved to say it was ok. The short-order cook didn’t like to talk much. Victoria smiled to herself and headed to the back to change her apron before going out front.
It startled her considerably, seeing Sebastian Chase. It wasn’t that he looked out of place — the Foxhole was a popular spot for corporate types who worked within a five-block radius — but seeing him there felt like something out of a dream.
In a perfectly-tailored grey suit, he looked entirely like the busy businessman that he was, but not exactly. He looked out of place, but perhaps it was because she could only remember him among the gleaming steel and concrete of a place entirely different from the warm confines of the Foxhole. Seeing him sitting at one of the shop’s tables like it was something he did every day was somewhat jarring.
“Do you have any more doughnuts, lady?” asked one of the teenagers at a table near where she stood, and she realized she’d been practically gawking at Chase.
“Of course, yes, sorry. How many?”
“Two,” said the teenager.
“Anything else?” Her mind was racing. What should she do? Come over and say hi? She was at work, and it wasn’t as though he was a friend.
“Nah. Just the doughnuts.”
“Be right back.”
Chase wasn’t in her assigned section. That meant she wouldn’t have to serve him. He’d still see her, though. Should she smile? Nod?
Victoria sighed. If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t be overthinking all this.
She went to fetch the doughnuts. She picked up a coffee pot and refilled customers’ cups. She took two more orders. All the time she kept surreptitiously glancing over at Chase trying to ascertain if he’d seen her.
If he had, he didn’t give any indication so far that he recognized her. He sat there and drank his coffee and looked at his doughnut like it was some kind of alien artifact.
“You know, if you stared at him any harder, your eyes might pop out of their sockets,” said a voice behind her. Victoria nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Oh. Hi, Rach,” said Victoria, trying not to blush. Rach was a fellow waitress working that afternoon shift. She didn’t speak much, and in fact looked sullen most of the time.
“I didn’t mean to stare, really,” Victoria said. “I kinda ... know him.”
“Well, he doesn’t seem to know you,” Rach said, and left.
No he doesn’t, Victoria thought.
Fair enough. The man was a CEO of a large bank, he would have too much on his mind to remember a single interview of a woman he didn’t give the job to.
Now, if only Victoria could focus on her own work, maybe she wouldn’t lose this job as well.
She couldn’t help wonder, though, what brought him to the coffee shop. She’d never seen him there before. Chase was a good-looking, imposing figure of a man — she was sure to remember him. After all, she remembered every married couple who lived within a two-block radius who’d come by for a quick breakfast on their way to work. And the assistants who worked from the buildings across the street who picked up coffee and pastry for meetings in the afternoon.
Men like Chase didn’t go for a coffee and doughnut at five in the afternoon on a weekday and just sit there without so much as a tablet or cellphone in hand. And even if he did, there must have been about a hundred other coffee shops near his office. Did something terrible happen and he needed some time alone? Someplace far from his usual haunts, maybe an old coffee shop with good old-fashioned homemade doughnuts?
Well, if he did, he didn’t seem too eager to eat it. The doughnut sat there in front of him, getting cold.
Her doughnut. Why wouldn’t he eat it?
After fulfilling orders of two other tables, Victoria glanced at Chase one more time while refilling coffee cups. Mabel was chatting with him while she served him what looked like his second refill. The doughnut still sat there, uneaten.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
She waited until after Mabel had left, and walked over to his table. Chase looked up at her but showed no sign he recognized her.
“You know, it may not look very fancy,” she said, trying not to lose her nerve. “But that’s a really good doughnut.”
“Really.” He glanced down at the doughnut, looked up at her and raised his eyebrows.
“Yes. I made it myself. It’s my dad’s recipe. At the end of a hard work day, it’s just the thing to give you a little comfort. And it’s not too sweet, so —” She stopped when Chase picked up the doughnut and took a bite.
He chewed thoughtfully for a second. He didn’t look like he liked it, but he didn’t look like he hated it either.
“Well?” She looked at him expectantly.
“It’s a good doughnut. Thank you, Victoria.”
She felt her face flush hearing him say her first name. “Uh, y-y-you’re welcome,” she blurted out. She was about to head back to the counter but he spoke to her again.
“Do you have any other clothes?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have any clothes more ... decent-looking than that outfit you wore to the interview yesterday?”
“I’m not sure what you mean by ... decent—” Victoria started to say.
“I mean, do you own any clothes that don’t look as though they should be donated to Goodwill?” He looked at her from head to foot, taking in her slightly faded flower print dress and light sneakers. “Although from what you’re wearing now, I’m afraid I know the answer to that.”
Stunned, she could only stare at him, unable to say a word.
“Well?”
“Well.” She swallowed, trying to keep her anger from making her voice shake. “No, Mr. Chase. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to buy a lot of new clothes. Although I’m not quite sure why I’m telling you this, seeing as it’s really none of your business what I wear.”
“It is, if you’re working for me.”
Was he crazy? Victoria thought. “I’m not —”
“Is something wrong here?” Mabel asked behind her. The woman smiled pleasantly at Chase, and looked questioningly at Victoria.
“No!” Victoria said. “I mean, we were just talking about the doughnuts,” she added hastily.
Chase smiled back at Mabel. “Mabel, would you mind terribly if Victoria join me for a minute?” he asked.
“Victoria, is unable to join you, Mr. Chase,” Victoria said, trying to keep her temper down. “She has to wait tables.” It was hard to ignore the way his blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at the now flustered Mabel, and it only made Victoria angrier.
“Of course, uh...” Mabel started to say.
“Call me Sebastian,” he said.
“Of course, Sebastian.” She turned to Victoria. “Oh don’t worry, Vic, I’m happy to take care of your tables for a couple of minutes. Rachel will help me.” She winked at Victoria before leaving her alone with Chase.
“But ..” Rach never does anyone any favors, Victoria was about to say to Mabel when Sebastian Chase interrupted her.
“Sit down please, Ms. Slade.” He was no longer smiling.
Victoria hardly knew this man, and yet he was ordering her around and expecting her to comply. But she didn’t want to cause a scene, so she sat down opposite him at the table.
“May I have your notepad, please?” he said, holding his hand out.
Now more puzzled than annoyed, she took her notepad out of her apron pocket and handed it to him.
He took out a fountain pen. “When you go here,” he said, writing something on the pad, “look for a Ms. Deborah Williams. She’ll know what to do.” He tore off the piece of paper and handed it to her.
Victoria stared at the paper. It was the address of Barneys on Wilshire. And a floor in the building. “I don’t understand.”
Chase was writing on the notepad again. “It’s a store, Ms. Slade,” he said, not looking up. “They sell clothes.”
“I know what Barneys is,” she said, exasperated. “I don’t understand why I’ll be going there.”
“I will not have you enter my home in rags. You’ll need new clothes before you start on Monday. Deborah will send me the bill.”
“Start ... But I thought you didn’t want —” Victoria stopped. She was about to say, I thought you didn’t want me. “I thought you didn’t think I was right for the job.”
Chase put his pen in his pocket and handed her the notepad. “Perhaps I had been a bit hasty,” he said. “My assistant will set an appointment for you at the office before Friday to submit a few documents and sign a few papers.”
“What’s this?” Victoria said, reading the notes on the top of her notepad.
“That’s a few of the subjects Benson is taking this semester. My assistant will email you the full curriculum, but you can start reading up on what’s on that list tonight.”