Page 55 of The Cost of Love

With a sigh, he nods once before standing up. “I have to know before the end of November if you can actually make this work. Alright?”

The eager way I profess my gratitude comes off as sort of pathetic. But if it means making sure we have a roof over our heads, then I will do it. He hands me a slice on my way out, and I scarf it down while I head to my catering shift. Mentally preparing for the next battle, I need the carbs to give me a boost of sugar.

“You’re early.” Chef Tomas greets me as I walk into his area in the event space kitchen and plant myself in front of his work table. Briefly looking up, he goes back to the prep he is doing.

“Yes, I actually came to talk to you.” Still in my street clothes, I try not to touch anything near me. Standing in this industrial-sized kitchen makes me desperate to work in one.

“About what?”

In one big breath I say, “I want a job.”

“You have one.” His cuts are clean as he doesn’t bother looking up while talking.

“I mean, as a cook.”

That gets him to put his knife down. He turns and looks at me through squinted eyes.

“I didn’t know you had experience.” While he handles the kitchen staff, his partner and wife, Elise, manages the waitstaff. It wasn’t until months in that he even knew my name.

“Well, I have a year of culinary school under my belt, and I worked on the line while in high school for this Italian restaurant.” No need to mention it was just Lenny’s pizza shop.

The look of skepticism that crosses his face I expected, so I brace myself for whatever he has to say next.

“I don’t think that is enough.”

Prepared for this, I’m mentally already in the place to convince him of my value.

“I learn quickly, and I have already been picking things up just from watching you before serving. Even if you just need someone to help with prep and plating, I can do that. I have the basics, and I can definitely learn the rest.” That smile from earlier comes out again, and I puff my chest a little in pride.

Standing up straight makes me feel like I am presenting myself better. Like I am a new tool on a showroom floor that he is considering.

“This is high-end food. We handle a lot of big clients.”

“I know that, and I know the menus that you offer. If you add anything else, I will be able to pick up on that, too.”

He looks me up and down in consideration, weighing my words against his instincts. The breath he releases is heavy enough that it lingers in the room.

I know he got his start working his way up through various restaurants. It wasn’t until he was a sous chef that he even took a class. Maybe his unconventional path will make him see the potential in me.

“I’ll think about it.”

I thank him for not just saying no, and try to keep my giddiness at bay during my shift. It’s nearly impossible when it feels like my dreams are finally in reach. If I get to work in a kitchen fulltime, while also being able to cover all of our bills, it will be like life is finally cutting me a break.

All that talk about putting my life on hold will no longer be a reality as I accomplish two goals in one. As much as I try to play it cool, my hopeful exuberance is noticeable enough that Jessie comments on it while we munch on the finger sandwiches that they served at the women’s luncheon.

“What has you so excited? That good dick?” We are waiting for everyone to leave so we can do the clean up, as the prestigious ladies of London linger to gossip about one another.

In the meantime, we take our own opportunity to talk.

“Chef Tomas said he might let me work in the kitchen.” I pop another tiny triangle in my mouth and try not to jump around.

“Why don’t you let Mr. Money pay for things? It would solve a lot of problems.” Sipping on some champagne she commandeered from the bar, she leans against the wall.

“If I get desperate, I might, but I’m not all of a sudden going to let him pay for my life.” I clean my fingers on a napkin before giving in and eating another one. She shakes her head and picks up a cupcake.

“If I were in your shoes—”

“I know what you would do.”