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A loud, inexplicable noise sounded in the background. “Oh, Hope, good. I’m just calling to say goodbye. We’re off. All of us. Here, Tim, say goodbye to Hope.”
Tim?I blinked. “You brought your son?”
“Well, of course. I want him to see Mommy and Daddy doing good things.”
How exactly were they going to do that? Were they going to haul the food and supplies out of the airplane? Were they going to chuck it while they were airborne? I couldn’t get over these people. “Please be careful.”
“I’ll have you throw a welcome back party when we return.”
I cleared my throat, a headache forming between my eyes. “Aren’t you only going to be gone a few days?”
She’d already hung up. I stared at the phone for a second before I threw it onto the bed. Muffy was one thing, but Bridget had made some good points without really making any. Why did I care so much what other people thought? What was it about me that craved so much outside approval? What did other people do to get to the point where they were good just because that’s what they were?
Maybe I should read some self-help books.
The thought made me giggle until I was outright laughing. I doubted they would work for me, but it was funny to imagine myself sitting there reading them for some reason. I could get a cool pair of glasses and sit in coffee houses until I went broke from not working and how fucking expensive New York City was as a home.
I groaned. Even my fantasies collapsed into dark realities, but no more of that. I’d take a shower. Go to the gym. And I’d have great sex again tonight. I hoped. There was probably a pretty good chance of it. Max seemed to like to see me.
Hell, maybe I’d pretend I was more like Bridget and be done with him instead of him being done with me. I’d make things work until they didn’t for me anymore and walk away with my sense of self still intact.
Maybe. Or maybe pigs would fly out of my ass. I laughed at my own joke again. Okay. I was funny, at least in my own mind.
That night,I dressed for the weather. I wore a jacket, and I was okay with the look. Max hadn’t seemed to care one way or the other about what I wore. I arrived at his restaurant a little early.Just in time to see Anna talking to someone by the doorway while she smoked a cigarette. I so rarely saw anyone do that in NYC anymore. In Europe, yes. New York, no. I must have stared because she threw it on the ground.
“I know. It’ll kill me.” She stepped on the butt. “But tomorrow is the operation, and I’m stressed. I’ve reverted ten years because of the stress. That was when I quit—a decade ago.”
I held up my hands. “Not judging. I swear.”
“Yes, you are, but I forgive you. Come on. Chef will want me to bring you right in.” She swung open the door. “Just finishing up the last customers. Oh, and you should tell me which one of us was texting you what we needed and how you got it for us.”
I shrugged. “I’ll never tell. I’m great at keeping secrets.”
“You are. I can tell that about you. Did you grow up here? I never heard that.”
She jumped around in topics. It was enough to make my head spin. “No, not until I was in high school. And then…”
My voice trailed off, caught by the scene in front of me. There, in the middle of his kitchen, mild mannered Max laid into one of his cooks in a loud, angry voice.
“You ruined it,” he shouted, and the younger man’s face fell.
“I’m sorry, Chef.”
Anna pursed her lips. “Whoops,” she practically whispered, and it was more like she was saying it to herself than intended for me to hear her.
Max picked up the plate and dumped it into the garbage. “We can’t serve that. Remake it, and if you ever try to serve one of my customers something like that again, you’re out of here. Got it?”
He stormed into his office, leaving a visibly pale cook behind, who took a second before he rushed back to his stovetop.
Anna looked over at me. “I’ll take care of this. It’s my job. Why don’t you go see him? Just be careful not to poke the bear right at this second.”
I had no idea how to avoid that. “Are you sure it wouldn’t be better if I came back later?”
“Absolutely not. Please, go now.” She practically shoved me forward. “He was in a great mood today. Lance must really have fucked up.”
I wouldn’t want to be Lance for anything in the world in that moment. Max hadn’t cursed or seemed violent, but his anger seemed to seethe throughout the room. All of his staff stared at their own workstations like they were afraid to look away, lest something happen. I hurried forward, poking my head in. “Good time, or should I come back?”
Did I sound light and airy? I was going for light and airy. I’d forgotten Max was the same guy who had thrown me out of his restaurant. He seemed so constantly easygoing that I’d forgotten there was no way he did this job with a blasé easygoingness. No way. He’d built up, not one, buttwohighly rated eateries.
