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ChapterEleven
Massi
17 years ago
“What do you mean you have to leave?” Jacques threw a towel across the room.
The fabric grazed over the stove and caught on fire. As soon as it landed by my feet, the busboy doused it with a spray of water from the hose at the dish-washing station. It all happened in a beat of a second, but in a well-rehearsed choreography because flying burning objects were a regular appearance in Jacques’s kitchen.
“My wife was taken to the emergency room. I need to leave.” My heart hammered inside my chest.
“You leave now, you don’t have to come back. An artist can’t be distracted by everyday life. And you’re very close to being an artist, Massimo. Don’t let anyone stop you.” He stood there, his stance screaming confidence and authority. With his chin raised, he stared at me down his aquiline nose, giving me an option.
To choose my fate. To rise or to fall. But both choices would only lead to a fall.
My chest heaved at an alarming speed.
“Honey glazed sea bass.” A cook yelled beside me and my gaze moved to the stainless-steel plating table. The sauce sizzled in the pan. The dish was seconds from perfection and I snapped into action like a trained monkey.
“Veggies. Polenta,” I ordered and two of my colleagues dashed to deliver what I needed.
I grabbed a polished plate from the warmer and arranged everything in the middle, spending mere seconds to create a culinary picture worth every penny of the money the dish cost at this place.
As soon as the plate left the station, I gestured to my second-in-command and strolled to the changing room. I pressed my head against the cold metal of the locker, Blue’s eyes flashing in my mind. Our future. I opened the locker, pulled out my phone and called my sister.
“Hey, stranger. What do you need?”
Of course, Sydney would start by pointing out the obvious. I only called when I needed something. As much as I loved all my step-siblings, Sydney and I had always had a weird relationship.
After they had moved into our house with their widowed father, I’d hated Sydney the most. For no good reason. But she was the same age as me and by default had stolen the status of the oldest from me.
“Blue is in the hospital.”
“Shit, sorry. What can I do?”
“Syd, she’s at Weill Cornell. Could you go be with her? I have to finish a few things. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“What is so important that you can’t go there right now?” Fucking Sydney, being all reasonable.
“Could you do it for me?”
“Are you at work?”
Yes, yes, I’m fucking ten minutes’ walk away.
“Syd, could you go be with her?”
“Of course I’ll go. You better be there soon.”
“Thank you.” I hung up.
I typed out a text to Blue:I love you, baby. I’ll be there shortly. Syd is on her way.
My finger hovered above the send button for a moment. I could keep this job or I could sit, helpless, in a waiting room. With the bitter aftertaste of betrayal, I sent the message.
“Good decision.” Jacques patted my shoulder when I returned to my station.
If only it didn’t feel like the worst one.
