Love from Scratch

Chapter Eleven

Hazel read over the menu at Max’s on the Beach, picturing each dish, cataloguing ingredients and imagining the flavours. She’d nearly turned down Eddie’s dinner invitation – Ethan’s comments about her motives echoing in her mind – but Eddie was nice and, regardless of what Ethan said, she did like him. Besides, he was the only friend she had up here.

Eddie glanced over her shoulder, fidgeting with the small vase of flowers on the table. The guy looked hot, his jet-black hair a little wild and his pale cheeks slightly flushed. He wore a black rockabilly style shirt with red roses on the shoulders and white pearl buttons down the front, teamed with black skinny jeans that didn’t look so skinny on him. Both pieces should have fitted him snugly, but hung loose on his gangly frame. On Ethan, the shirt would have hugged his broad chest and the jeans would have looked as if they were painted on.

Hazel’s jaw tightened. Why was she thinking about Ethan? She gave her head a shake and focused on the menu again.

‘Everything okay?’ Eddie asked.

‘Everything’s perfect. I’ve checked this place out a few times,’ she said. ‘I did drop my CV in but, of course, they didn’t have anything.’

‘That’s part of the reason I brought you here,’ Eddie said. ‘I know the sous chef pretty well. His brother’s about to get married, and he’s going to need a weekend off. I thought I’d introduce you to him, and Chef Max if he has the time. You might be able to fill in for him.’

‘Seriously? Oh Eddie, that would be amazing!’ She grabbed his hand across the table and gave it a squeeze. ‘Thank you. I thought you were still trying to date me.’ She laughed.

‘I mean, I have thought about it but…’ Eddie flushed.

‘But we’re better as friends, right? Besides, I’m too old for you.’

‘You’re not that old, you’re only—’

‘Hey. Hi.’

Hazel looked up at the interruption to see Ethan sauntering towards her wearing the painted-on black jeans of her imagination and a white shirt hugging his chest. She smiled, genuinely pleased to see him. He’d plagued her thoughts all afternoon, and she’d been trying to figure out how to apologise for being so rude. Then she noticed who was strutting up behind him and her smile instantly evaporated. She grabbed the edge of the table. It was Logan fucking Grant, C-grade TV star whose most recent job was being one of ten celebrities dropped onto an island in the Pacific for a reality show. This was the man who was indirectly responsible for Hazel’s current situation – living in another state, away from home and without a job. A memory flamed up behind her eyes. The aroma of sizzling meat. The sound of clanging pots and humming voices. The thud of her heart and her blood whooshing in her ears, her face pulsating as humiliation seared through her. It all came back, visceral and so overwhelming her hands trembled.

‘Ethan. Hi.’ Her voice was as tight and thin as the air in her lungs. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Um. Eating dinner?’ He grinned. His eyes held hers. ‘Though now I feel guilty that I’m not at home cooking all that food you made me buy.’

‘I didn’t make you buy—’ His grin widened. ‘Okay. You’re kidding. Got it.’

‘This is an old mate of mine, Logan Grant.’ Ethan ushered Logan towards them and the man swaggered forward, grinning like a smug and vicious version of the Cheshire Cat.

‘Hey.’ Logan nodded to Hazel and Eddie.

Hazel clenched her fists under the table.

‘Hazel saved me from some fans today,’ Ethan said. ‘They had me cornered. She thinks I’m “on” all the time.’

Logan frowned. ‘Bro, you’re the least “on” guy I know. You’re irritatingly normal.’

‘Really?’ Ethan smirked and Hazel shuffled in her seat, wondering how the hell she could get out of there.

‘Hazel’s helping me out with my dog,’ he added. Logan nodded disinterestedly and glanced around the restaurant.

‘This is Eddie,’ Hazel said, her stomach churning.

‘I remember Eddie from the cafe.’ Ethan flicked Hazel a raised brow that clearly said, Oh really? Then he smiled and offered Eddie his hand. ‘How’s it going, dude?’

‘Okay,’ Eddie answered, sounding decidedly not okay.

‘Are you guys on a date?’ Ethan pointed between them, his lips twitching.

‘No.’ Hazel shook her head. She wasn’t in the mood for his teasing or judgement or whatever this was. All she wanted was for him and his friend to go away. ‘We’re just having dinner.’

‘Then why don’t I see if we can move to a table for four?’ Ethan said.

‘Um, actually—’ But before Hazel could finish speaking, Ethan strode off, nodding to the beaming diners as he passed. Her shoulders slumped as he talked to the ma?tre d’, pointing out their table and smiling even wider.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

‘Have you been here before, Hazel?’ Logan asked.

‘What?’ She glanced up to see Logan Grant looking down at her, his bland, handsome face the picture of boredom. ‘No,’ she said. He nodded and looked around the restaurant again.

‘Are you okay?’ Eddie asked her.

‘Yeah, I mean… yeah. Just nervous about the possibility of meeting Chef Max.’ She forced a smile. She could get through this. Logan obviously hadn’t clocked who she was. She’d eat, have her meeting, then she and Eddie could get out of there. It would all be worth it if it got her some work.

Ethan arrived back at the table with a loud clap of his hands.

‘Done,’ he said. ‘I talked them into setting us up a table on the beach. Apparently, it’s technically illegal.’ He did air quotes around the word illegal. ‘But I told them I’d deal with it if there was any drama.’ He locked eyes with Hazel, lifting his brows. ‘Probably with a little flirting. Possibly some careless smiles.’ Then he grinned, one hundred per cent movie star, the tip of his tongue caught mischievously between his front teeth.

If she wasn’t so miserable, Hazel might have thought he was cute.

As promised, their table had been set up on the sand, just beyond the path and under one of the light posts that ran along Main Beach. It was low tide, and a gentle swell rolled in with a soft, swooshing crash. Ethan positioned himself facing away from the restaurant and the people walking along the path, most of his face in shadow. Logan, on the other hand, took a seat directly under the light, ensuring that everyone could clearly see him. He’d been staring at Hazel all through dinner while telling endless stories of his island adventures and how he and Ethan had first met on the audition circuit, when they were always up for the same roles.

‘Of course, Ethan here made it big. Me, I’m still hustling,’ Logan said.

‘It’ll happen for you, dude.’ Ethan clapped Logan on the back. ‘You deserve it.’

Hazel wanted to scream, ‘No he doesn’t! He’s a narcissistic piece of shit!’ She couldn’t believe she was stuck sitting there with the man who had pretty much burned down her career. She looked around for one of the waitstaff so she could ask for the bill. She was desperate to get out of there before he figured out who she was.

‘I’m going to see how things are going in the kitchen,’ Eddie said.

‘Should I come with you?’ she asked, a little too eagerly.

‘Give me a minute to check.’ He smiled, sweet and a little unsure. He must have noticed the thinly veiled desperation in her voice.

Hazel nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said brightly. She fiddled with the dessert menu, turning it over and over. Ethan leaned in.

‘I’m sorry if I was the last person you wanted to see tonight,’ he said.

‘You’re not. You’re really not.’ His friend was the last person she wanted to see.

‘Is everything okay?’ He frowned.

‘I’m fine. Great.’ She faked another smile. The hundredth for the night.

‘Okay.’ His eyes narrowed, as if he didn’t believe her. ‘What did you think of the food tonight? Was it up to your high standards, Chef?’

‘Oh shit,’ Logan said, ‘that’s who you are.’ He was staring at Hazel again, recognition dawning. ‘You’re that chef from that shitty restaurant I slammed.’

‘You didn’t slam the restaurant,’ she said. ‘You slammed me.’

‘That’s not how I remember it,’ Logan said. He sat back in his chair, his arms crossed against his chest.

Hazel leaned forward. ‘I’m not surprised, seeing as you barely remember me at all.’

‘Wait, do you two know each other?’ Ethan asked. His eyes darted between Hazel and Logan.

‘She was the chef at this supposedly hot restaurant.’ Logan rolled his eyes. ‘And the meal was shit, so I complained. She’s just pissed about it.’

Rage stung Hazel’s eyes, and she blinked furiously, desperate to keep her angry tears at bay.

‘There was nothing wrong with that meal.’ The words came out through clenched teeth. ‘You were being a dick, showing off like you were some big deal. And you didn’t just complain, you blasted me across all your socials.’ She swallowed. ‘And you posted a photo of me.’

‘You’re in the service industry,’ he spat back. ‘In case you don’t know, the customer’s always right. If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen.’ He lifted his eyebrows in challenge, his lips curling into a smug sneer. Hazel stood so hastily she bumped the table, sending glasses and cutlery flying.

‘Hazel?’ Ethan stood too, his hand outstretched. She flinched and pulled away.

‘Fuck you, Logan Grant,’ she spat. ‘Fuck. You.’

She’d imagined saying those words a thousand times. She had said them into the dark. Under the shower. To her own reflection. While hugging her pillow in bed. Fuck you, Logan Grant. Fuck you fuck you fuck you. But now she’d actually said them. To his face. She was shaking.

‘I’m fine,’ she said to Ethan, sounding a lot calmer than she felt. Then she turned away, striding down the beach towards the surf.

The tears came as she stared at the inky water. She squeezed her eyes shut and growled out a frustrated groan. Damn it. She hated that she’d lost control. But seeing him had dredged everything up. The insecurity, the anger, the anxiety. That one night had ruined her entire career, and he’d barely even remembered it.

Hazel sucked in a deep breath, the tears drying on her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she’d just sat there like an idiot the whole night, forcing down her dinner. She should have got up and left when Ethan first walked in. Then again, she couldn’t exactly pass up the chance to meet the chef. She wouldn’t let Logan Grant ruin that opportunity, too.

Her fists clenched tightly by her sides, disappointment swirling with anger. How could Ethan be friends with that man? Just when she was starting to believe she’d been too harsh on him. Just when she was starting to believe his nice-guy bullshit, he showed up with Logan Grant.

‘Hazel, are you okay?’ Ethan appeared at her side.

‘No, I’m not. Go away.’ She was tired of pretending she was fine; she hadn’t been fine for a long time.

He flinched. ‘Did I do something?’ he asked, adding, ‘I mean, something else?’

Her head snapped around. ‘How can you be friends with him? All your I’m a such a nice guy crap and you’re friends with him?’ A wave of dizziness hit her and she wobbled.

‘Whoa, I got you.’ He grabbed her hand.

To her surprise, she wrapped her fingers around his, gripping him tight. She closed her eyes, squeezing his hand as she swayed back and forth. Then she let go and dropped heavily onto the sand. He lowered himself down beside her.

‘Just tell me what I can do.’

‘You’ve done enough.’ You brought that man back into my world and made me eat dinner with him.

Except that Ethan had no idea about any of that. He had no idea why she was mad now, or why she’d had been so rude to him earlier that day. But still, there he was, making sure she was okay. She turned to look at him, his perfect features shimmering in the moonlight. His eyebrows were bunched, worry lines clustering across his forehead.

‘Should I go?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she said. Then, ‘No.’ Then, ‘I don’t know.’

They sat side by side, silently staring out at the dark ocean. For reasons Hazel couldn’t quite fit together in her mind, him being there felt good.

‘Your friend blew up my career,’ she said quietly.

‘Logan?’

She nodded.

‘I was working at a restaurant called Mamma’s Kitchen,’ she said. ‘It was pretty popular for a while. I don’t know if you know it?’

‘I know it. Home-style food.’

‘That’s it. The head chef had a family emergency and asked me to fill in while he was away. ‘The owner was planning on opening a new restaurant, and he told me if I performed well in the role, he’d consider making me head chef at the new place. It was an amazing opportunity. The first two nights couldn’t have gone better. I killed it. But on the third night, Logan Grant came in.’

‘He ordered spaghetti and meatballs,’ she said. ‘It was the dish we were best known for. I’d churned out hundreds of them. I’d probably cooked ten that night.’ She took a shaky breath. ‘He sent the first plate back saying the meatballs were undercooked. No worries, I made it again. He sent the second plate back saying the mushrooms in the sauce were burned. Which was ridiculous, they weren’t, just like the meatballs weren’t too rare. But fine, we sent him another serve. This time he asked to see me. I went out to speak with him and – in front of the restaurant owner, the rest of the staff and the entire restaurant, which was fully booked – he ripped me apart, screaming that the food was shit and that I was a shit chef. He actually said, “Do you know who I am?”?’ Hazel laughed bitterly. ‘I didn’t, but I probably shouldn’t have told him that.’

‘Definitely not,’ Ethan said. ‘He’s always had an oversized ego.’

‘Mm. Anyway, the yelling and humiliation was one thing, but then he slammed me all over his socials. Gave the restaurant a zero-star rating and posted a photo of me with the caption “Frankenfailure” and a bunch of nasty emojis I’m sure he thought were hilarious. I’m fairly certain he was referencing my height. You couldn’t see my face. But how many tall female chefs are there? At least it was only in his stories, so it eventually disappeared.’

‘Fuck,’ Ethan said. ‘I knew he was a dickhead but… fuck.’

‘If he’s such a dickhead, why are you friends with him?’

Ethan was silent for a long moment, before quietly saying, ‘I’m not. Not really. I haven’t seen him in ages. Three years, probably. He rang tonight out of the blue to say he was on the coast and asked if I wanted to have dinner. I actually considered saying no, but I was in a bit of a mood.’ He flicked her a look. ‘And I thought he might cheer me up.’ He glanced back over his shoulder to where Logan was talking to a couple of girls who’d stopped at their table. Ethan shook his head.

‘I guess I always knew he was a piece of shit.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have told him he deserves success,’ she said. ‘Because he doesn’t. You’re just feeding his ego. You’re making him worse.’ He flinched at her words.

‘I was trying to be nice. It’s a thing with me.’ He stared out at the ocean, his face serious. ‘Is that why you moved away from Sydney?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘The restaurant supported me, but we lost customers. It doesn’t take much to drop off the hot list, and I lost any chance of getting the gig at the new restaurant. But it wasn’t just that. I let him get under my skin. I let his words in and then they festered. That’s on me. I should have been able to brush the whole thing off, but I couldn’t. The anxiety got so bad, I could barely sleep. I lost confidence in my cooking and I lost confidence in myself.’ Hazel took a deep, steadying breath. ‘I’d always been so free in the kitchen, it was my happy place, and that was ruined. That’s why I moved up here for a fresh start. Look how that turned out. My dream had always been to have my own restaurant. Now I’m minding dogs for a living.’

‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Ethan said, his voice soft. ‘Sometimes we can’t help but carry things around, no matter how much we know we should let them go.’

He put his hand over hers and gave it a little squeeze.

‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ he said.

Hazel dug her hands into the sand, letting the fine grains slip between her fingers. Her nausea was finally subsiding and for the first time that night, she was confident her dinner wasn’t about to come back up. She drew in a deep breath, slowly blowing it back out, repeating the action over and over until her heart stopped pounding. Then Ethan was back. He dropped down beside her.

‘I told him to leave,’ he said. ‘Actually, I told him to fuck off out of here.’

She turned to him with wide eyes. ‘What? No, you can’t do that. Go find him. You’ve known him for years. You’ve only known me for a minute.’

‘It’s not actually your decision, Hazel. I don’t want someone like that in my life, and I already know you’re a better person than he is. It only took me a minute to figure that out.’ He half-laughed. ‘Logan’s always wanted it all on a plate, and he was always envious of me and my success. Dinner was probably more about him picking up women and getting photo ops than catching up with me. I’m sure he was pissed that I made him sit outside in the dark.’ He chuckled, then shrugged. ‘I don’t want to associate with someone who’d treat anyone like that, let alone you. But at least now I understand why you think I’m a dickhead.’

‘Ethan… I don’t think you’re a dickhead.’ It had taken her more than a minute, but she’d finally figured that out.

‘Arsehole? Wanker?’ His lips quirked, and one brow dipped cheekily. ‘Scoundrel?’

She laughed out loud. ‘Scoundrel? Who are you, Han Solo?’

‘Oh, so you do watch movies?’

‘My little brother watches movies.’

He smiled and turned back to the ocean.

Her gaze travelled over his profile, taking in his perfectly straight nose and square jaw, the long lashes that cast feathery shadows under his eyes.

Shit.

None of this had anything to do with him. None of her contempt or distrust or self-righteous judgement had anything to do with him.

‘I think I owe you an apology.’ She spoke quickly, determined to get the words out before shame or the heat tingling in her cheeks could stop her. ‘You were right, I was judging you on the behaviour of someone else just because you share a career. I was seeing what I wanted to see. But you’re not him. I shouldn’t have said what I said, Ethan. You didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.’

He took a big breath, blowing it out slowly. ‘Thank you. Hazel.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But you were right, too. Maybe not about all of it, but definitely about some of it. I have been known to take advantage of pretty privilege. I know most people assume I’m some dim, superficial fuckboy or something, and I don’t always help myself with that. I do have a tendency to flirt and I do have a tendency to play up on the image…’ He shot her a cheeky smile. ‘But I’m serious about my career. I work hard at my craft and I want to be cast for more than my looks. I’ve slogged for years to get where I am and I’ve tried to do it without becoming someone like Logan. I hope I’ve achieved that, but I’m happy for you to call me out if I haven’t. I try hard to stay grounded and true to who I am in here.’ He tapped his heart with his fist.

Hazel’s breath unexpectedly hitched.

‘I’m sorry Logan was a dick to you,’ Ethan went on. ‘I’m sorry he fucked up your big chance. I’m sorry I brought him here, and I’m really fucking sorry I made you sit with him. I steamrolled you into that.’

‘Yeah, you did,’ she said softly. ‘But I made you feel so bad about yourself that you actually chose to have dinner with the guy!’ He chuckled. ‘And I did all that while knowing what it’s like to be judged on my appearance, something I don’t love either, by the way.’ She took a beat, waiting until his eyes were on hers.

‘I mean,’ she went on, ‘everyone assumes I play basketball.’ She rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘The conversations about that sport I’ve bluffed my way through…’ She made a face, and he smiled. ‘And I couldn’t count how often I’m asked to get something from the top shelf and I’m not even that tall.’ She pretended to reach up, bending her arm a little at the elbow as if struggling to get her hand any higher. She grinned. ‘See.’ Then she playfully nudged him with her shoulder.

‘Okay, now you’re taking the piss.’ A smile spread across his lips, devastatingly soft. ‘You are pretty tall, though. But it suits you, I like it. And I don’t get a crick in my neck looking down at you.’

She snort-laughed. ‘I’m glad I’m not contributing to your chiropractic bills.’ He studied her and his eyes narrowed. ‘What?’ she asked.

‘How tall are you, anyway?’

‘Five ten.’

He scoffed. ‘I call bullshit. I’m six three or six four, depending on what website you read. You’re closer to six foot.’

‘So?’ Old defences instantly shot up.

‘So why lie about it? Are you bothered by how tall you are?’

‘Actually no, I quite like being tall. I’m only bothered by it when other people are, so it’s just easier to talk it down. Because on a man six foot is seen as sexy, but on a woman it definitely isn’t.’

‘Um. What? Have you never seen a model?’

‘That’s a bit different.’

‘Not from where I’m sitting.’ A wide grin split his face, dimples firing, and for the first time Hazel didn’t want to duck out of their way.

‘Whoever told you tall women aren’t sexy was lying.’ Her heart raced at the way he growled the word lying.

‘I, ah… I should go find Eddie,’ she said, a tiny murmur of panic bubbling up inside her.

‘Do you reckon he’s angry I crashed your date?’

‘It wasn’t a date!’ Ethan’s lips curved from a grin to a smirk. ‘Scoundrel,’ she teased him, and he laughed. ‘Actually, Eddie brought me here to meet the chef. The sous chef needs a weekend off next month and they’re looking for a cover. It could really open some doors for me.’

‘Oh. That sounds…’ He instantly looked worried.

‘It’s only one weekend, Ethan. It won’t affect anything. But I wanted to be upfront about it.’

‘I appreciate that, and I’m happy for you.’ He stood, dusted the sand from his jeans and offered her his hand. She stared at it for a beat and then, smiling up at him, let him help her up.

‘Thank you for listening,’ she said. ‘I’m…’ Hazel hesitated. She wasn’t sure what she was. Surprised that he would support her? Or that he would sit with her and try to make her feel better? Or was she surprised by how much she was enjoying the warmth of his hand wrapped around hers? Her teeth trapped her bottom lip.

‘Anyway, thanks,’ she said, and squeezed his fingers before letting him go.

He shrugged. ‘Friends?’

‘Friends.’

‘Hey, do you run?’ he asked as they headed back up the beach.

‘Why, is there a bear behind me?’

‘No. No bears.’ He laughed. ‘I was thinking about going for a run through the national park and I was looking for company. Because, you know, misery loves company.’

‘To clarify, you’re not talking about running right now?’

He chuckled. ‘No.’ He rubbed his chin, his hand smothering a smile. ‘I was thinking Friday, because I’m not working. But that would also be your day off, so…’

‘So it’s the perfect day for a run,’ she said. ‘But do you think you’ll be able to keep up with me… zaddy?’

He arched a brow. ‘So it’s going to be like that, is it?’

She grinned back at him. ‘It’s most definitely going to be like that.’