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“Yeah, okay, does tomorrow work? I can stop by the shop.”
“See you then.”
“Later,” I said, then turned off my phone and grabbed some clothes off the floor, hoping like hell they weren’t funky.
I rolled up to class with minutes to spare, so the hallway was empty, except for me and Bronagh heading toward our classroom from opposite directions.
She paused a few feet from the door, off to the side so the students already inside couldn’t see her.
Her eyes were dancing, even though the circles under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.
“Hey,” she said softly, a small smile playing on her lips. “You get any sleep last night?”
“Not enough,” I admitted, then added, “But it was totally worth it. Those pancakes were delicious.”
Bronagh chuckled at that, then gestured silently for me to enter the room before her.
I was still grinning as I crossed to my station, but when Calla came up to me and asked, “Can I talk to you later?” the smile fell from my face and I said, “Not today. I’ve got a ton to catch up on and am running on no sleep. Maybe tomorrow.”
Calla looked like she wanted to argue, but Bronagh chose that moment to come in and start the class.
I was running on autopilot, which is always dangerous when working with knives, but I managed to make it through the first class unscathed.
As my next instructor droned on about what we’d be working on for the rest of the week, my mind wandered to the beautiful freckled red-head in my life. I thought of her as she looked in the tent, lying under me as we made love … Then flashed to her singing, totally out of tune, along with the radio as we drove to the concert. She was more than beautiful. She was smart, funny, generous, and the sexist woman I’d ever seen.
Unable, or maybe unwilling, to put a name on the emotions I was feeling, I had the overwhelming need to at least get these feelings … those images … down on paper.
I needed to write. One song, two … I wouldn’t know until I got started, but I needed to get this out of me before I imploded.
Chapter Fourteen ~ Bronagh
“Chef, do you have a minute?”
Behind my desk, I looked up from the recipe I was tinkering with to see Calla, one of my students, standing at the door, her back stiff and head held high as always. I wondered if it hurt to always stand so erect, at the same time I thought the petite blonde would be pretty if she didn’t always look so hard.
“Of course, Calla, come on in,” I answered, waving to the empty seat in front of my desk and hoping the fact that I was about to fall over from exhaustion wasn’t apparent.
I hadn’t had much interaction with the young chef, but from what I’d seen so far, what she lacked in talent, she made up for in determination. I’d worked with people like her plenty of times throughout the years, and knew that there was little she’d let stand in her way.
“What can I do for you?”
“As you know, in just a few short weeks, the semester will be over, ending my career as a culinary student, and pushing me on my path to become a great chef.” When I nodded, she continued. “As you also know, there is a prestigious job with Chef Agard waiting for the top student.” She pressed her palms to my desk and leaned toward me. “I fully intend to be that student.”
I pulled her information up on the computer, perused the screen, and told her, “Calla, your practical assignments and theory tests all show that you’re doing great. I’m sure your final exam will be no problem. You’re a strong candidate for the position with Chef Agard.”
“I know all that,” she said with a scowl. “But I also know I’m not the strongest candidate … Brendan O’Malley is standing in my way.”
Alarmed by her choice of words, I asked lightly, “What do you mean by that?”
“We all know that Brendan is top of the class, and he wants that job as much as I do…”
Distracted by her words, I didn’t follow what she was saying, because I wondered if what she said was true. Does Brendan want that job with Chef Agard in France, and if so, what is he doing with me? Wasting time?
“I’m sorry?” I asked when I realized Calla was waiting for me to respond to something she said.
“I said … If Brendan is doing anything that will disqualify him for the position, I won’t hesitate to bring it to light…” She watched my face, waiting for me to realize that she was insinuating that she knew what was going on between Brendan and me, and was threatening to turn us in if she didn’t get top of the class, and the job she coveted.
My back stiffened at her threat, but I schooled my features, not willing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I’d dealt with plenty of women like her throughout my career, and even though she was correct in her assumption, I didn’t appreciate being blackmailed.
