Chapter Four
Jase
Baxter purred in my lap, his gray fluffy body stretched out so his head hung off the edge of my thigh, oblivious to the waves of disappointment pouring through my computer screen. Dr. Ohara studied me with the same careful attention he always did during our sessions, and the sensation of being stripped naked and shoved under a microscope had yet to grow any more comfortable. I shifted in my seat on my couch.
“And then?” Dr. Ohara asked. “What happened next?”
“I walked away.”
“That’s it? You didn’t say anything else?”
I shook my head and winced. I didn’t need a psychology degree to recognize I’d fucked up. I could even list all the ways how: withdrawing, avoidance, defensiveness. Generally being a dick. It hadn’t even felt like me doing it. More like some adolescent asshole had taken over my brain the second Dani told me she’d dated Alec.
What were the chances that she of all people would be tied to him?
And why did it have to be her?
My work was the one place my brother was never supposed to be able to touch me, the one piece of my life I could live out from under the crushing weight of his perfection.
Until now.
“What’s coming up for you as you think back on this?” Dr. Ohara asked.
“Anger,” I said right away.
“Good. Anger at what?”
I opened my mouth to answer, then realized I didn’t know. Despite how I’d reacted to Dani, it wasn’t her I was mad at. She didn’t do anything wrong, and this situation had to be just as awkward for her. It definitely explained her bizarre behavior when we’d first met.
She probably still has feelings for him.
It wasn’t the first time I’d thought it. You didn’t act that way about someone who meant nothing to you.
Alec would keep a girl loving him years after they broke up. I wasn’t even sure any of my girlfriends had really loved me while we were together.
And there I’d been yesterday, thinking maybe there was something between Dani and me. The whole time we talked, she probably compared me to him , tallying up all the ways I didn’t live up.
I wanted to be mad at Alec, but that wasn’t fair either. He hadn’t done any of this on purpose. It wasn’t his fault he was naturally good at everything. Just like it wasn’t his fault that I was a fuckup.
If anything, I was angry with myself.
“I’m mad I still feel this way,” I admitted.
“What way is that?”
He knew. We’d been in this place many times before, which was why I knew he would make me say it. “Like I’m not good enough.”
The words hurt as they came out, yanking at something raw deep within my chest. I clenched my jaw and took a long inhale through my nose to try and relieve the pressure behind my eyes. Focusing on Baxter helped, my hand drawing steady strokes over his fur. His purrs grew louder, easing some of the sting.
Dr. Ohara’s next words were gentle but firm. “You’re not a failure for feeling this way, Jase. In fact, the more you catch yourself when you are feeling it, the easier it will be to start changing the thought pattern that has you believing it. But in the meantime, it’s important you learn not to take that feeling out on other people.”
I nodded, watching Baxter’s belly rise and fall, the tips of his fur lighter where it caught the sun. “I know.”
I pictured the hurt that had flashed through Dani’s face when I’d insulted her menu and dismissed all her hard work. Dismissed her. She hadn’t deserved it. Especially not when she’d been brave enough to be honest in the first place.
“So what do I do?” I asked, finally meeting Dr. Ohara’s gaze through the screen.
“Well,” he said, adjusting his narrow glasses, “you’ve got two options. The first is you can keep existing within these rigid boxes you’ve drawn around yourself as Alec’s brother, and around Dani as his ex, and keep your interactions defined by those roles.”
So basically what happened yesterday, but on repeat for the next three months. I’d rather shuck oysters all day, every day from now until the symposium.
“Or you can try loosening the lines a bit. Be open to the possibility that more than one thing can be true. That Dani can both have once loved your brother and value and respect you for your work now. That one doesn’t lessen the other or even have anything to do with the other.”
I nodded, liking the sound of that a lot. I just wasn’t sure I could do it.
“An apology might be nice too,” he added.
A weak smile pulled at my lips. “Yeah.”
That was probably a good idea.
“ Ow , fuck.” I snapped my hand back from the pan sitting on the stove and grabbed a rag, ignoring the throbbing in my finger.
“You good, Chef?” Zach asked.
“Yeah.” I hadn’t burned myself that carelessly in years, which made it pretty fucking clear where my head was at. My staff noticed.
“He’s just nervous because he fucked up last week, and now Jillian’s on his ass to play nice,” Luis said, getting a snicker from Zach.
The two young guys were across the small kitchen from me with their cutting boards. Zach’s tall, thin pale frame, pierced and tatted from head to toe, made Luis’s light brown baby face and smaller stature look practically angelic in comparison.
It was true that Jillian had been especially frosty toward me since the Dani debacle last week. The guys had heard bits of the tense conversation from the kitchen and gossiped about it like a bunch of teenagers until word reached Jillian. She didn’t know what the root of the issue had been, and I had no intention of telling her. All she cared about was that I fixed it.
It’s just an apology. Simple.
Except I had no clue how to go about it. Just say I’m sorry? Was that enough? Somehow, I’d managed to have three different long-term relationships over the course of my adult life and had never once been in the position of making a formal apology.
I was well aware that wasn’t in fact a good sign regarding the quality of those relationships.
“What happened with the nonprofit girl anyway?” Luis asked.
“She probably demanded Chef serve raw cherry tomatoes. You know how much he hates those,” Zach said.
Aubrey snorted from the prep bench beside me, the bright colors of her tattoos visible in my periphery.
“It’s the texture,” I said in defense. “I don’t like things exploding in my mouth when I bite into them.”
“Guess we should warn Chef’s next girlfriend not to expect him to go down on her, then,” Luis joked. Zach chuckled, and I shook my head.
“Little tip for you, Luis,” Aubrey cut in. “If you’re biting something down there hard enough that it explodes, the only thing she should expect is a trip to the hospital.”
Luis turned to Zach as if searching for confirmation.
“What are you looking at him for?” Aubrey teased. “He only goes down on dudes.”
“Yeah,” Zach said. “I like things exploding in my mouth.”
Luis howled with laughter as I fought my own grin.
“All right, let’s reel it back in, please,” I said. “Where are you two at with your prep?”
The laughter cut out immediately as the two young cooks lowered their heads back to their tasks.
“Yes, Chef.”
“Almost done, Chef.”
I had a good crew here even though our kitchen culture was much looser than most of the places I’d worked when I was coming up. That had been intentional on my part, wanting to let my staff still feel like people when they walked through these doors instead of cogs in a machine to be ground down. But there had to be a balance to it, and my guys knew that when service began and tickets rolled in, their only focus was the food.
Aubrey eyed me as the other two set to work, her own cutting board covered with perfectly julienned bell peppers. “Really, though, you good?”
“Huh? Yeah, of course. Just want to make sure this menu is right.”
It wasn’t about the menu. The menu rocked.
Call me conceited, but the one thing I’d ever been able to feel fully confident in was my ability to cook good food, and I believed in the food I’d planned out for this event. The problem was the woman who’d be tasting it today.
“She’s pretty,” Aubrey said.
“Who?”
She tilted her head to the side like oh, please.
I gave my sauce in the pan a swirl. “What does that matter?”
She shrugged. “Just an observation. One that perhaps you’ve made too. That’s all.” She had a sly smile on her face as if she’d figured out some grand secret. Sometimes I wished I hadn’t hired such an observant sous chef.
“You can go ahead and shut this line of thinking down right now,” I said. “It’s not happening. She’s a client.” And was probably still in love with my brother.
“Well, she’s here, so whatever the deal is, it’s time to make it happen.”
My gaze swung through the door to the dining room as Dani walked past the host stand. She wore another loose blazer, this time with a dress under it that stopped above her knees, showing off the long lines of her legs. Her hair was pulled up, a few loose strands falling around her neck to frame her soft face, her full lips pursed like she was ready for battle, and her eyes—they were anything but soft.
The terrified creature from the day we’d first met was nowhere in sight, and a powerhouse stood in its place.
My pulse quickened as I watched her take the seat at the end of the bar. Nerves tightened my stomach, bracing me, though for what, I couldn’t say. Just that whatever it was, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.