Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I whispered.
“When I was starting out,” she said, “someone gave me my first big break. Since then, I’m always trying to pay that forward. And I’ve discovered I love helping folks make their dreams come true.” Her eyes sparkled. “How would you like to cook for me for a week and audition for the job?”
“Audition to be your personal chef?” I blinked, and finally my brain started to function again. “Yes. Absolutely yes. That would be amazing.”
“Great.” She turned and gestured to the woman who’d been seated beside her at the table. “That’s Shanice, my assistant. If you give her your info, she’ll get things started for us.”
“Thank you so much.” I did my best to sound chill and professional, even as I was screaming inside.
Stella nodded and flashed an easy smile. “Thank you for dinner, and for being able to do it last minute.”
“Right.” I was riding such an emotional high, I felt invincible. “Although, between us, I’m not sorry the other chef had to cancel.”
She exchanged a confused look with Preston. “Other chef? I thought Sydney was your first choice?”
He smiled, and it was so convincing, she probably didn’t see the panic in his eyes. But I knew him better, so I saw it all.
“She was,” he said quickly. “I’m not sure what she’s talking about.”
“Oh. Okay.” She accepted his attempt to brush it off. “Well, I’m glad Troy pitched this dinner to me, and thanks to y’all for helping pull it together.”
I nodded, too stunned to speak and my mind went on overload as it tried to piece together this information.
Troy had pitched this to Stella.
She’d said it was last minute and that there’d been no other chef.
I waited until she’d gone back to her guests before turning toward Preston, and my voice dropped low. “Did you and Colin orchestrate this whole thing . . . for me?”
“Once again, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Except his smug smile said otherwise.
I opened my mouth to demand he explain, but instead he turned away from me and strolled back toward the kitchen. Fine. If he wanted to talk there, then we could—
There was a booth on the same wall as the kitchen door, so when I’d come out into the dining room, I hadn’t noticed the couple who was seated there. I’d thought Preston had been leading me to the back, but no. It was toward my parents, who were tucked away in the booth, eating the tiramisu Diego and I had painstakingly plated just a few minutes ago.
I hurried to catch up to him and asked it under my breath. “What are they doing here?”
“Colin invited them.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond. He reached the edge of the table, drawing my parents’ attention up, and their expressions shuttered.
“Hi,” he announced. “Did you enjoy your free dinner?”
My breath caught. Colin and Preston had arranged this too, and paid for it? My parents looked so awkward, so uncomfortable, I almost felt bad for them.
Almost.
“Yes.” My father’s tone was begrudging. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Preston gestured to me. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how amazing your daughter is, but I’m going to anyway, because I think you need the reminder. She’s smart and kind, and just look at her. She’s freaking gorgeous.”
Blood rushed to my face as my parents did as they’d been told. I felt anything but gorgeous right now in my chef attire, but there was so much conviction in his words, I couldn’t help but believe it, just a little.
“And she’s so insanely talented,” Preston continued. “You might not see it, but everyone else in this room does, including Stella. Want to know how I know? She’s looking for a personal chef and she just invited Sydney to audition for the job.”
“What?” Surprise had my mother straightening in her seat and her gaze flew to me for confirmation. I nodded, and pride welled in my chest.
“You should be so proud of her,” he said. “It might not be the dream you had for her, but it’s her dream.” He stood tall, looking confident and sure. “And Sydney’s good at everything she does, so we all know she’s going to get the job.”
The sound of the rest of dining room had faded to nothing. It felt like it was just us; Preston and me as we faced my parents. My heart was in my throat, clogging the words I wanted to say.
But he had it covered. “I know you don’t like me very much, and that’s okay. I can deal. And I’m sure you don’t want it, but my advice is that you don’t get in her way. Just, fuck. Be excited for her, like I am.”
If I’d thought they looked awkward before, the way they were now put it to shame. My dad’s posture was the same as if he were sitting on a cactus. They didn’t like the profanity, and they certainly didn’t like being lectured by him, but . . .