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“It’s not only the money. It’s job security. I’ve been building my business up, and if I work for you, all the progress I’ve made will go away.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be taking a big leap forward salary wise and the amount of work you’ll be doing will be less.”
“And what if you decide you don’t need me anymore or you suddenly want to hire someone else? Then I’m out of a job and I’ve also lost all my other clients.”
“I can get a contract drawn up with whatever you need. If you’d like a certain amount of guaranteed pay in case we part ways, I’m fine with that.”
She picks up another cupcake, swirling frosting around the top. “I need time to think about it.”
“I’ll pay you five thousand per week,” I say.
The cupcake slips from her grasp, landing upside down on the counter. She snatches it up and stares at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. “Are you insane?” she yells at me.
I shake my head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Why would you offer me that amount?”
Is she disappointed at the number I mentioned? If that’s the case, I can do better.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to be an insult. I don’t know what the going rate for a private chef is. How about we do ten thousand per week? Is that satisfactory?”
She looks at me like this is her first time seeing me. “Ryder, that’s a lot of fucking money.”
“Not to me, it isn’t.”
“Well, to me it is. I can’t let you pay me an outrageous amount just to cook you three meals each day.”
“Believe me, it’s worth it to me and my dad. We’ve been miserable since we ran out of your leftovers. I was nice and shared them with him and then I regretted it because they didn’t last as long as I imagined they would.”
She shakes her head. “There isn’t a chef in this world that I’d pay that much.”
I scratch my chin, raking my fingertips through the short beard lining my jawline. “I happen to think you’re worth it and I’m not rescinding my last offer. That’s the amount I’m paying and I’m not changing it unless you get a raise.”
She sets the cupcake and knife down. “Are you positive this is something you want? I need you to be one hundred and ten percent sure before I answer you.”
She’s going to say yes. I can feel it.
As excited as I am on the inside, I remain outwardly composed. I can’t afford to do anything to make her have doubts.
“I’m as sure as I can be. It’s not only your cooking I’m interested in. I want you to help me eat a more balanced diet. That’s the one piece that’s missing from my training and I can’t do it on my own. I don’t have the knowledge nor do I have the desire to learn. But I promise I won’t give you a reason to regret working for me,” I say.
Her chin drops to her chest and stays there as she works through her thoughts. I stay calm and confident, silently willing her to say yes.Yes. Yes. Yes.
When her head raises, our eyes connect. “Yes, I’ll take the job. But I have conditions.”
“Lay them on me,” I say.
“I can’t start until next Monday.”
It’s already Thursday now.
I nod. “That works.”
“I’m still going to have to cook for my other clients on the weekends. That means I’ll be at your house during the work week only. However, I’ll have your meals ready for the weekends. All you’ll have to do is pop them in the microwave or oven.”
Hmm. I don’t like the idea of her not being at my house two days a week, but I have to compromise on some things if I want her to accept the job.
Five days is better than none.
