Page 52 of The Chef

What I have to do today. Why I can’t take care of the kids.

Cliff’s house.

Oh, shit.

I have to go to Cliff’s place and help him with the menu. That’s supposed to be today.

Oh, crap.

I agreed to do it because I thought I’ll be free without the kids today. But that’s not happening anymore.

But I need this job. Cliff’s giving me a chance here that I can’t afford to miss.

I’m just gonna have to go to his.

And I have no choice but to bring my niece and nephew.

“Right, guys,” I say, spinning around to Davy and Pearl. “Who’s up for a little adventure?”

* * *

I follow the instructions on my phone to get to Cliff’s place. He lives by the ocean, in the posh area of town. The expensive street with all the tall white houses that face onto the water.

How very typical of him to live here.

I park the car on the street outside his address and turn around to the kids.

“Okay, guys. The person we’re about to see is my big boss.”

“The scary one?” Pearl asks, interrupting me.

I smile. “Yes, the super scary one. But don’t worry, I’m here to look after you from him, I just need you both to be on your best behavior.”

In the back seat, Davy harumphs. He’s not happy with me saying best behavior. He doesn’t like those two words because it usually means the opposite of what he wants to do. Pearl just blinks at me from the front passenger seat. She doesn’t really know how to control her behavior, so no matter what I say she’ll just ignore me anyway.

Well, this is going to be very interesting.

“Okay, Davy?” I ask him, raising my eyebrows. “Best behavior, alright? No shooting games or running around.”

He eyes me angrily.

“Why do we have to be here?” he asks.

“Because your dad had to go to work, and I have to meet my big boss, that’s why,” I reply. “So, let’s just get in there, get this over with, and then we can go home and play video games.”

With difficulty, I escort the two out of the car. Pearl’s keen to hold my hand whilst Davy just kicks at the grass, bored and irritated. We head up the stone path to the white house’s front door and I take in a deep breath.

Here goes.

I ring the doorbell and take a step back, nervous. Pearl squeezes my hand.

It takes a long while before the door opens.

And there he is.

In a suit, the sleeves rolled up exposing his muscular forearms, he stands at the doorway and stares in wonderment at Pearl and Davy by my legs.

“Hello,” he whispers, aghast at the sight of the kids.