I look at Alice as if she’s speaking a foreign language. “What? That’s impossible. How can we be all out of meat?”
She shrugs as she begins leading me toward the walk-in cooler. “You probably forgot to order it again.”
“But I don’t order the meat,” I tell her. “I make it myself by hand.”
My words don’t make any sense, and I’m not sure why I would say something like that.
Alice doesn’t seem to notice the absurdity of what I’ve said. As she opens the walk-in cooler, I quickly follow her inside. But as the door closes behind me, the cold air isn’t the only thing that sends a chill over my skin.
The shelves of the walk-in are lined with framed photos of Alice and Edward posing in various sexual positions.
“See? We’re all out of meat,” she says, motioning to the pictures.
“I’ve got your meat right here.”
I spin around at the sound of Edwards’s voice and find him standing right behind me, unbuttoning his jeans.
I wake with a gasp of horror.
“Bloody hell!” I shout, throwing off the duvet as I leap out of bed.
Staring at the mattress as if it’s the scene of a gruesome crime, I sink to the floor to catch my breath.
“Get yourself together, mate,” I say, muttering a half-hearted pep talk to myself.
Once I’ve calmed down, I sit on the bed and immediately grab my mobile off the nightstand to ring last night’s closing server, Andy Sevara. But the call goes straight to voicemail, indicating he’s turned off his phone.
I have no idea if the footsteps we heard in the staff corridor last night were his. It’s entirely possible what Alice and I heard was merely someone stomping around on the floor above us. The problem with this theory is that the sound happened about one a.m., and the floor above us is occupied by a dental office and a law firm. I highly doubt their housekeeping crews work that late.
I’ll try Andy again later. I can’t remember if he’s on the schedule today. If he is, his shift usually starts an hour before we open for lunch. If he’s not on the schedule, I’ll have to hope he isn’t one of those people who leave their mobile off for long periods of time.
By the time I pull my Lexus into a space in the underground car park, I’ve convinced myself I have nothing to worry about. Even if Andy did hear—or see—Alice and I in multiple compromising positions last night, who is he going to tell? The likelihood that Andy knows Alice’s father are slim to none. The odds of him knowing Edward are higher, but still quite slim.
I reach for the door handle, but I freeze at the vibration of my mobile in my hand. Glancing at the screen, I shake my head at an SMS from Edward.
Edward: Fancy a lunch? I reckon we have some things to discuss.
A knot of anxiety forms inside my belly as I wonder whether Andy does know Edward, and I’ve missed my chance to come clean to Cristian. Then, I remember how unlikely this is, and I swipe my finger across the screen, deleting Edward’s text message.
But as I make my way toward the elevator in the underground car park, my mobile vibrates again.
Edward: You seem to forget I’ve been in NY far longer than you. I recommended some of your employees, remember?
I clench my fist around the phone and take a few deep breaths, so I don’t chuck it at the concrete wall. Once I’ve calmed down, I type up a response that will definitely send the message Edward has needed to hear since the moment he decided to cheat on Alice.
Me: You can shove your sad attempts at blackmail up your arse. I’m telling Cristian about Alice tonight. I may not keep my restaurant. But unlike you, I’ll still have two Michelin stars. And I’ll have Alice. Cheers, mate!
I type the message out, but I don’t hit send. It would be a terrible mistake to reveal to Edward how I feel about Alice. No doubt, he would see this as a vulnerability he could exploit. Not to mention, I have no intention of accelerating my own demise by admitting my feelings for Alice to Cristian.
I sigh with exhaustion as I realize I’ve spent more than a decade living in fear of getting too close to anyone because of what one woman did to me when I was barely out of secondary school.
I thought Priya was the love of my life. But I was nineteen years old. I had no idea what love was. Which was why, the moment she betrayed me, I ran. I never even considered staying at uni and fighting for us.
After Priya’s betrayal, I played it safe with my personal life, reserving all risk-taking for my professional exploits. Seeing how this strategy worked so well for my career, only reinforced my desire to avoid gambling on love. Over the years, I cultivated a personal life completely devoid of risk. And completely devoid of love.
As I press the call button for the elevator, my mind is assaulted by a sudden cascade of dangerous ideas.
What would happen if I stopped hiding my feelings from the restaurant staff and promoted Alice to sous chef today?
What if, instead of worrying about what Andy did or didn’t see, I simply stop running from the consequences of my actions?
What if I were to ring Cristian tonight to tell him I’m in love with his daughter?
My breathing quickens as I realize there’s no denying it. I’m in love with Alice. And I’m done living in fear of feeling this way.
Tonight, I’m going to call Cristian and tell him I’m in love with Alice. If he uses that as an excuse not to recommend moving into the final funding phase, and I lose the restaurant, I don’t give a toss.
I’ll make it my life’s work to make sure every one of my employees finds another job. Then, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Alice in my life.
I finally understand what it feels like to love someone so much you’ll risk your career. So much you’ll risk getting your heart properly destroyed.
I love Alice.
I love her so much I’m going to risk everything for her, and I’ve never felt less afraid in my life.
When I enter the kitchen, I’m slightly annoyed to find a small puddle of last night’s mop water still covering the floor drain. I’m even more annoyed to find Alice is late. It’s possible she forgot she was scheduled to come in earlier today for the weekly meeting where we discuss the tasting menu, which changes every Friday.
As I search my emails for the contact information for my plumbing contractor, I make my way to my office to check the schedule and see which host or hostess is coming in first. We may not have the drain fixed in time to open before lunch. I’ll need someone to call the customers who’ve booked a lunch reservation, so they can reschedule.
Mario walks past my open office door with his apron clutched in one hand, waving at me with the other hand. I nod at him and try not to allow my annoyance with Alice’s tardiness to morph into questions about whether I should promote her. The trains from Brooklyn are notorious for their delays.
Inevitably, this train of thought leads me to wonder if Edward is somehow responsible for her lateness. Shaking my head at this ridiculous paranoia, I tap my phone screen to dial the number for my plumbing contractor. After a brief conversation, Leo promises to send someone before lunch to check out the drain, but he can’t promise it will be resolved quickly.