‘Yeah.’ She leaned forward and handed him her CV. ‘Sorry, I was just going to drop this in. I didn’t think I’d be having an interview or I’d have…’ She waved a hand over her clothes, then immediately regretted it because she was drawing attention to her legs.
‘You’d have dressed differently?’
‘Well… yeah.’Obviously.
‘What would you have worn?’ Aidan asked, leaning back in his seat.
Lou shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But not shorts.’
‘They say you should dress for the job you want. What would you have been wearing in that case?’
‘Honestly? That.’ She nodded to his chef’s jacket.
Aidan raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, I can tell you right now, if you’re gunning for my job, you’re going to be disappointed. We have our full quota of head chefs.’
Lou shrugged. ‘No harm trying. Don’t ask, don’t get.’
Aidan smiled, then leaned forward again and picked up her CV. ‘So, you’re a cook,’ he said, his eyes scanning over it.
‘Yes, but I’ve done a lot of waitressing too,’ she said stupidly, as if he couldn’t read for himself. But she didn’t want him thinking she was naïve enough to expect to land a job cooking here. She knew her experience didn’t qualify her for anything loftier than commis in a high-end restaurant like Coast, and she couldn’t afford to do that.
‘So I see,’ he said, without lifting his eyes from the page and Lou tried not to cringe as he took it all in – the greasy spoon cafes and burger chains she’d served time in, worlds away from the likes of this place.
‘You went to catering college?’ He frowned at the CV in front of him.
‘Yeah. A long time ago.’
‘But you didn’t finish.’ He looked up at her questioningly.
Lou gulped. She hated being reminded of one of the greatest disappointments of her life and it immediately put her on the defensive. She restrained herself from saying ‘What of it?’ She didn’t have to explain herself to him. But no one wanted to work with a combative jerk with a chip on their shoulder who was always spoiling for a fight. She felt Aidan’s eyes on her and imagined what he was seeing – someone feckless and unreliable, unable to stick at anything for long. He thought he had her pegged. But she’d had good reason for quitting college and it had nothing to do with being irresponsible.
‘I had to drop out when my son was born and I never managed to get back to it,’ she told him.
‘Oh, you have a kid?’
‘Yeah.’ She smiled, instantly soothed by the switch to talking about the greatest joy of her life.
‘How old?’
‘Five.’ Here it comes, she thought, bracing herself for the questions about how she’d manage juggling childcare and a job. Questions a man would never be asked. Questions her ratbag ex would never have to answer, in the unlikely event that he’d find himself wanting to take responsibility for a child and hold down a job at the same time.
To her surprise, Aidan smiled. ‘Same age as mine.’
‘Oh! You have a son?’
‘Daughter. Bo.’ Aidan’s expression softened in a way that hit Lou right in the ovaries. He was handsome, obviously – no change there. But this was something more than that, his face suffused with a warmth and affection that caused a longing deep inside her – for what, she wasn’t sure. It was unnerving.
Aidan was looking down again, studying her CV. ‘So you’re cooking at… the Lettuce Inn at the moment?’ he asked. ‘Great name, by the way,’ he added, grinning.
‘Yeah.’
‘What sort of stuff do you do?’
‘Standard pub grub – shepherd’s pies, fish and chips, chicken and chips, burger and chips…’
‘Lasagne and chips,’ Aidan put in.
‘Lasagne and garlic bread,’ Lou said with mock indignance. ‘We’re not complete savages.’
