Chapter 3 #2
“Here’s the thing.” She shifted in her chair before bracing her arms on the table.
“I didn’t give it a bad review. Or not intentionally.
I was still learning the ropes, feeling my way through writing my own column, and had some writer’s block, so I tried out a writing prompt to get my juices flowing. ”
Emily’s eyes rounded. “Oh no, something like ‘describe an outing using only negative adjectives’?”
“Something like that. You know where this is going. By the time I’d written my real review, I was close to deadline on my first writing assignment.
I got nervous, flustered, you name it.” She twisted her fingers together.
“So when I sent in my article, I sent in the wrong file. I didn’t notice until I looked for it in the paper the next day.
Then to make it worse, my parents shared the newspaper clipping on their social media, and it went viral. ”
“Ava, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” Emily placed her hand over Ava’s. “What did he say when you told him?”
“I never talked to him again, until last week anyway. I was too embarrassed and young and naive.” Only Emily’s grip kept her from burying her face in her hands.
“Well, it’s been what, six years since you were in Seattle? I’m sure he’s over it.”
She pictured the end of her class the week before.
Zach getting in her face, green eyes flashing.
“He’s definitely not over it. The worst part is, I couldn’t find another place for a class, so I have to see him tonight again.
Unless he decided he couldn’t stand the sight of me and got a colleague to fill in. ”
Emily gave her twisted fingers a squeeze before releasing them. “I’m sure if you just explain to him what happened, it will be fine.”
“I tried to do that last time, believe me. He was not interested in hearing my side of the story.”
“That’s awful.”
Ava took a long drink of her latte. The ice had all melted, leaving the coffee lukewarm.
The sweet concoction soured in her stomach, and she straightened in her chair.
“Anyway, I just need to make it through one more class, then I can focus on my trip to Jonathon Island. All that matters is that I learn enough to make it through that charity competition Judson signed me up for. Keeping my editor happy is at the top of my list.”
At Escargot, she would keep her head down and learn everything she could. Because after tonight, she would never have to see Zachary Sullivan again.
Just get through the night. Zach’s countdown for the last several days had turned into a mantra. Just make it through.
The kitchen waited, silent and ready, for the class tonight.
Earlier that evening, he’d set up every station, lining up knives and mixing bowls and a pair of aprons at each spot, anticipating another full class.
He double-checked the roster again. The bachelorette party would be back, this time missing one member.
RJ was also on the schedule, as was Ava.
He stifled a growl. He shut his eyes and breathed deep for a four count, then blew out his breath with a huff.
No amount of deep breathing would change the fact that he was in this dead-end job because of Ava Harper.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. His brother, Ollie. “What’s up, bro?”
“I’m doing Dani a favor and confirming your arrival time for the Flavor Fest. You’re coming in a day or two early, she said?”
“I’m counting down the minutes. I’ll send you and Dani my flight info. I think I’ll be able to catch the two o’clock ferry across.” Zach straightened a knife that sat askew on the counter.
“Sounds good. Dani said to tell you she’s got you all signed up for the contests you wanted. You’re still staying with me, right?”
“Yeah. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. You’re welcome any time.” A rustle came over the phone, and then Zach heard Ollie whisper something to someone on the other end. “Sorry about that.” Ollie’s voice rang through the line again.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep. All good. Eliza just had a question.”
His brother had moved back to their hometown of Jonathon Island. He and his girlfriend, Eliza, ran a bookstore on the island. Zach hadn’t seen them for a few weeks, not since Dani’s wedding in April.
“Are you okay, though?” Ollie said. “You just sound a little off.”
“It’s nothing.” Zach adjusted the spacing between two mixing bowls on the far workstation. “It’s just…Do you remember that article that was super critical about my restaurant in Seattle?”
“The one that made the place a ghost town? Sure. I remember.”
“The food critic was at my class last week.” Zach rubbed his temple. “She’s supposed to be here again tonight.”
“Oh man. I can see why you’re distracted. Don’t let her get to you. Just be polite. I’m sure it will be fine.”
Polite. Right. He could do that.
The restaurant’s front door opened and closed with a bang. He cut a look at the clock. Class didn’t start for another fifteen minutes. “Thanks for calling, Ollie. I need to get going—someone’s here.”
“See you soon, bro.”
A moment later, RJ pushed through the swinging door. The kid’s hair stood on end even more today. He had a grease stain on his gray T-shirt, and there was a red smudge on the knee of one of his pant legs. A paper bag swung from one fist.
“I hope that’s ketchup.” Zach gestured at RJ’s leg.
RJ ducked his head. “Yeah. Sorry. I came straight from work. Today was a hard one.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
The kid shrugged. “I’m used to it. I wish I could work more, but they just cut my hours. I take every shift I can.”
“I get that. But cleaning yourself up shows respect for yourself and for others.” Zach put his hand on the kid’s shoulder.
RJ’s face brightened. “I brought you something. Tell me if it’s any good. Be honest.”
Inside the bag was a white foam container of soup.
“Two spoons?” At the kid’s nod, Zach grabbed each of them a spoon and lifted off the lid.
With the first bite, an explosion of flavor hit him.
“This is really good.” RJ had balanced sweet yellow tomatoes with savory leeks and onions.
“Seriously, this might be the best tomato soup I’ve ever eaten. A little browned butter in there?”
RJ ducked his head. “I’m playing with the recipe. My mom likes it, but I needed the opinion of someone who…isn’t my mom.”
“RJ, you know these classes aren’t really meant for people who are serious about a career in cooking, right?” He handed him an apron. “They’re more for dabblers. You seem like someone who wants more.”
“I’m saving every penny that doesn’t go toward my mom’s rent for culinary school.” RJ tied the apron on. “I was accepted at Kendall, but I couldn’t afford it yet. They said there would be a place for me anytime I can come up with the tuition money.”
Huh. Zach remembered those days. When his parents had cut him off because they didn’t agree with his decision, he’d barely put himself through culinary school too.
If it hadn’t been for the scholarship…“Have you ever heard of the Silver Platter?” RJ shook his head.
“It’s a nonprofit that provides scholarships to low-income or at-risk people who are interested in pursuing a degree in Culinary Arts.
” He pulled out his phone and navigated to the Silver Platter’s website.
Together they hunched over the small screen.
Zach tapped on the Apply for Scholarship tab.
The message “Awaiting Funds” in bold letters scrolled across the top of the page.
In a smaller font the website informed them that they had awarded all available funds and were waiting for more generous donors.
“Well, that stinks.” RJ ran a hand through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I’m sorry, man.” Zach tapped a few more areas on the website.
“The Silver Platter really helped me out. It’s not great to see that they’re out of funds.
I’m going to be in a charity cooking competition in a few days, though.
The winner gets to name a charity to receive ten thousand dollars.
I’d already chosen the Silver Platter even before I knew they were out of money. ”
Hope shone in RJ’s eyes. “And you’re a shoo-in to win, right?”
He laughed. “I don’t know about that, but I sure hope so.
” Resolve straightened his back. Helping other young chefs while also securing himself a better job?
Talk about a win-win. “Here, give me your cell phone number and I’ll text you the info for the scholarship.
Let me know if you need me to write you a reference. ”
As they exchanged information, the kitchen door swung open to admit the bachelorette party. Following close behind them trailed Ava Harper.
He almost admired the nerve it took her to dare show her face again. Though he noted that she’d chosen a spot farthest away from him.
Fine by him.
His conscience had nagged him all week about some of the things he’d said to her.
Okay, it probably was the Holy Spirit and not just his own conscience, but every time he thought about what she did to him, his blood felt like it was on fire. He shoved those thoughts to the back burner and pulled himself back into this class. He’d take a moment to apologize later.
“Welcome back, everyone. Tonight, we will be learning how to make a quick ratatouille, a twist on a classic French dish. You can get a ratatouille at nearly any French restaurant, but tonight’s recipe is simplified for cooking at home.
” He’d developed this recipe for his main dish at the cooking competition, where he wouldn’t have access to a gourmet kitchen, and practiced it every day this week.
Now, he could almost make it in his sleep.
He watched the class chop their vegetables, guiding them as needed, then walked them through cooking the dish.
He kept his distance from Ava. She didn’t do too bad.
She probably was exaggerating about how little she could cook.
When one of the bachelorette party couldn’t figure out the electronic kitchen scale, Ava showed her how to use it.
Pretty soon their heads were bent together as they giggled over their ingredients.
Later he spotted her soothing one of the women who was having trouble with her sauce.
The class passed in a blink. They all shared the fruits of their efforts, laughing and talking until one by one the group began to disperse.
“Ava, could you stay a moment?” Yeah, he caught the quick widening of her eyes, but to her credit, she squared her shoulders and then nodded.
“Thank you for class tonight.” She pulled her apron over her head and tossed it into the laundry basket provided. “And for not telling everyone who I am. My reputation is safe.”
He waved off her words. “I have some standards. I’m not about to betray you. Even if we don’t get along.”
“Thanks?” Her eyes darkened. “I guess the feeling is mutual.”
“Look.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want a fight. Actually, I wanted to apologize for how things played out last week.”
Her shoulders dropped an inch. “Me too. In fact—”
“No, let me finish. I said some things that I regret. I apologize.” He crossed his arms.
“Um, okay. I don’t know if that’s an apology, but I forgive you. Two-way street and all of that. I apologize too. I—”
Seriously? “Oh, so now you’re a critic of apologies? I’m trying to do better here.”
“You’re right.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. You just come off so…” She waved her hand around. “I don’t want to say arrogant—”
“Then don’t. I apologized. You apologized. Let’s just leave it.” His shoulders tightened. He rolled one, trying to release the tension.
Her phone dinged, and she stole a quick glance at it. “My ride is here, but I still have some things I want to say to you. Can we grab coffee or dinner somewhere to talk about this?”
No way he wanted to spend more time with her. “I’m leaving for an extended trip next week and have a lot to prepare beforehand, so I won’t be around. Besides, I think we don’t have anything more to say to each other, do we?”
She squinted her eyes at him. “I guess not.” She held out her hand and he took it. “Goodbye, Chef Zach. I’ll try to avoid your restaurants in the future.” He shook her slim fingers once before dropping her hand and recrossing his arms. She spun on her heel and walked out of his kitchen.
And hopefully out of his life. He’d done his duty to his conscience and God and apologized. Now he could get on with the business of forgetting all about Ava Harper and focusing on the competition on Jonathon Island.
If he could win the charity competition, he could fund the Silver Platter for scholarships for kids like RJ.
And if he could impress Paul Hawkeye enough in the regular competition, maybe he could even earn a spot in his kitchen.
And then he could finally put down roots.
He didn’t even care where. Just a place that he could call home for more than a year or two. All he had to do was be flawless.
No pressure there.