Page 3 of The Chef

I step inside the bank, trying to look as professional as ever even after nearly running headfirst into the door. I check my hair, making sure it’s all still tied back in the ponytail and there are no loose strands ready to embarrass me, and I step up to the ropes. In the line for the bank teller.

I take in a deep breath.

Calm yourself, Bay. Forget about the rude man.

But I can’t forget him. He’s standing right in front of me in the line. All I see is his back.

The banker at the counter finishes with the person they’re dealing with and calls Superman over. I take a step forward as he moves ahead. I’m next after rude boy.

If I were anywhere else, I definitely would say something to him. Make a snarky comment. Unfortunately, though, I should currently be focusing on this meeting and not on rude handsome men.

I check down at my financial documents one last time, scanning through the pages. There’s not a lot there. Ha. I don’t really have much in the way of money. Or assets. Or property. It’s just me and that rusty old car sitting out there in the parking lot.

That’s all I have.

I close my eyes and pray to whoever’s listening up there in the sky to just grant me one wish, that’s all I want. One wish. Right now.

Hopefully, I have enough for it to work today. I wish my plan works.

If this thing today doesn’t work out for me then I’ll have nothing. If the bank doesn’t approve my loan application, then I might as well quit everything and go live as a crazy cat lady in a log cabin in the woods.

Please let this work. Please approve me.

I hear some sort of loud commotion in front of me. I open my eyes to see Mr. Superman himself arguing with the banker at the counter. He’s the commotion. His arms are waving in the air as he argues, and the banker is completely still behind the counter, calm and staring at the muscular guy, his eyes narrowing as Superman spiels out his anger.

“What do you mean?” Fake Henry Cavill says, his voice rising so that everyone in the bank can now hear him. He wants us all to be involved in this. The banker looks down at the papers in front of him and shakes his head.

“You have only the one form filled out,” the banker replies.

“What do you mean, only one form? I did what you told me to do.”

The banker sighs. “You need the other one we posted to you filled out as well, not just this one.”

Superman crosses his arms. His biceps pop out. Yeah, the dude’s super muscular. He’ll be kind of hot in a jock kind of way if he wasn’t so effing rude. “There was another form?”

“Yes, it’s made very clear on the first form that you need the second.”

“Don’t get all snide with me now.”

“I’m not, sir.”

“Well, I must’ve left it in my car.”

The banker puts down his pen like he means business. “You can’t leave the queue, sir, otherwise, your place is forfeit and you’ll have to line up again.”

Superman isn’t listening. “Hold on one second and let me get the document from the car.”

“I’ll have to serve the next customer if you do leave, sir. You’ll have forfeited your place in the line if you do step out.”

“Forfeit?” Superman asks, incredulous. “What do you mean? Just give me one moment and I’ll get the other form from the car.”

“I can’t do that, sir. I’ll have to serve the next customer if you do leave.”

Superman turns around to check who the next customer is. When he sees it’s me his face turns red. Oh, he’s not happy about that. He spins back round to the banker. “Don’t you dare.”

What did I do to him to make him so pissed off with me?

He’s the one who pushed in front of me.