Jenny hummed to herself as she moved her cursor down the page. “Sous chef at DAX on Forty-Second Street,” she answered calmly.
Lumi furrowed her brow. “DAX . . .” she thought aloud.
“Yup,” Jenny said. “As in Julien Dax, the chef who has been written up on Page Six for punching a food critic in the face and kicking a patron out of his restaurant for asking for ketchup to put on his cooking.” She snickered.
Lumi sighed. “Sounds charming.”
“I know what you mean. But he’s paying thirty dollars an hour for a sous chef. Not bad at all,” Jenny said.
Lumi bit her tongue.
“Plus,” Jenny continued, “it’s all traditional French cooking. Same stuff we learned in school. You wouldn’t have to learn anything too elaborate to get started.”
Lumi’s shoulders drooped the slightest bit. “I would like to learn something elaborate.”
“I hear you, honey, but are we really in the position to pick and choose right now?”
The air whooshed out of Lumi’s lungs, making her feel deflated. But she knew Jenny was right. “I guess not. So, tell me, what would I need to do?”
“That’s the spirit. There’s an email address here. Send me your résumé and I’ll forward it to them so it is coming from the French Culinary Institute alumni office,” said Jenny.
Lumi exhaled. “Thank you, Jenny. You’re a lifesaver. I don’t know how to repay you,” she said.
Jenny clucked her tongue. “I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t do for me! And if you insist, you can make me some of your famous fish balls when things are more settled.”
Lumi grinned. “Fish balls? It’s a deal,” she said. Lumi could hear the sunshine edging back into her voice. “I’ll get on it right away.”
She brushed the saltine crumbs off her laptop and flipped it open, the screen bright as it whirred to life.
LUMI’S FAMOUS FISH BALLS
Serves 2 (makes about 8 fish balls)
1 pound ground white fish
1⁄2 cup bread crumbs
1⁄4 cup parsley, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon ground cilantro
1⁄4 teaspoon ground ginger
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 egg white, lightly beaten
kosher salt, to taste
freshly ground black pepper, to taste
frying oil of choice (canola and avocado are two of many options)
Stir together the fish, bread crumbs, parsley, cilantro, ginger, garlic, egg white, and salt and pepper in a bowl. Form into quarter-sized balls and chill.
Heat the oil in a saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the fish balls and brown on all sides. Lower the heat and cook for 3–4 minutes on each side. Let cool and serve.
7
Lumi
The elevator came to a smooth stop on the fifth floor, and a lead-footed Lumi dragged herself out into the chrome hallway. Jenny had told her to look for suite one.
The immense revolving door to suite one was labeled with a small, square silver plaque. With a shrug, Lumi pushed the revolving glass panel. Before she even saw another person, she heard the tapping of gel-lacquered fingernails on a desktop.
On the other side of the door, the owner of the nails came into view. She was fixated on her laptop screen and did not look up when Lumi entered. The woman was not unattractive, but Lumi wouldn’t have called her beautiful either. She had golden skin and hawkish features that looked as if they had been filed to a point. Her honey-blond hair with black roots hung pin-straight down to the desk. Even her eye makeup was drawn into pointed lines at the corners of her eyes.
Standing in front of her desk, Lumi cleared her throat. “Hi,” she began.
The receptionist jumped back, startled. She glanced up and down Lumi’s figure, her eyes somewhat apprehensive until they completed their course, at which time they became pointed again. “Yes?” she asked.
Lumi regarded her with curiosity. She hoped that the woman didn’t double as a security guard; with her attention level, aspiring miscreants would have no problem breaking in.
“Yes. I have an interview at noon with Julien Dax.”
A look of recognition spread across the younger woman’s face without belying any interest. “Have a seat, please. I’ll let you know when Mr. Dax is ready,” she said.
Lumi nodded and perched on one of the white leather modular mini-couches that lined the reception area. The secretary typed furiously on her laptop for a moment, and then they both sat in silence. Taking advantage of the downtime, Lumi began responding to Magda’s and Brayden’s email inquiries on how she had been holding up and updates on the Puggles’ tour schedule, when the receptionist interrupted her to let her know Mr. Dax was ready and motioned toward the main office.
Lumi closed the office door behind herself and came face-to-face with the most strangely striking human she had ever met. He was at least a head taller than her, taller than she had remembered—but wait, he had been sitting. She froze before she could gain control of her reaction, and all she could do was watch as a smile of recognition and something else—amusement?—spread across the stranger’s face.
“You!” he said.
“You,” she groaned under her breath. Her reaction was not lost on him, and as he watched her the corners of his mouth began to play upward.
“Please,” he said gently, as if she were a startled deer and the slightest snap of a twig would send her barreling away, “have a seat.”
Lumi gave him a curt nod and sat. She glanced around the office, aware she was being observed. The office was painted white, and it was spotless. If she had dropped an empanada on the floor, she would have had no qualms about picking it up and eating it, even after the five-second rule had elapsed. The furniture was minimalist, Zen, and it was all constructed from the same brushed metal, with square white leather cushions on the seats of the couch and chairs. She turned her gaze back to Julien. His eyes had not left her for a second.
And then they did, to peer down at her résumé before him. “So, Ms. Santana,” he began, “what brings you here today?”
Lumi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Wasn’t the answer obvious?
“I’m applying for the job of sous chef, Mr. Dax,” she said, looking down at the desk.
“Mm,” he acknowledged. “But it says here that you were executive chef and owner at Caraluna in Inwood.”
She glared at him. “Yep.”
Julien studied her some more. “So, what happened? Burned the beef one time too many?”
Lumi felt bile rising in her throat. She cleared her throat. “Um, we closed in December and I need to get started somewhere as soon as possible,” she said.
His thumb and forefinger caressed his square chin. The same fishhook bracelet from the last time she had seen him glinted under the fluorescent office lighting.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “That you closed . . . not that you’re looking to get started as soon as possible.”
“I got that.”
Julien leveled his gaze, his brow furrowing. “So, why DAX?” he asked.
Lumi shot him a look. “Do you always start with the easy questions?” she asked, a tiny, wry smile curving the corners of her lips.