20. Talia
TALIA
THREE WEEKS LATER
I missed Izael. It wasn’t that we hadn’t been spending time together since he moved out three weeks ago. But I wanted to fall asleep in his arms at night and wake up to fix his breakfast in the morning.
He had taken me on a picnic at one of the waterfalls in Cherokee Springs, to a paint and sip, and to an escape room and then dinner. But it didn’t replace the feeling of seeing him walking into the kitchen naked to get something to drink, sitting on the couch bare chested while he watched a movie, or sleeping in my bed.
Although I’d been missing him all along, it slammed hard into my chest when I got a phone call two evenings ago from the Bold Beautiful Black Girl magazine inviting me for an interview. I wanted to run to his room and tell him about it, but he wasn’t there.
I picked up the phone to call him, but I only got his voicemail. I sent him a text to call me because his voicemail was full. I never heard back from him until yesterday. He apologized because he had missed my text and had several back-to-back meetings.
When he asked if everything was okay, I told him yes. I lied and said that I just wanted to hear his voice. We talked for about fifteen minutes before I heard him yawn and say that he needed to get to sleep because he had an early morning board meeting.
I felt so lonely and ached for him to be with me. Even on the nights when he had to get up super early the next day, he would crawl under me and rest his head in my lap on the couch or even in bed if I were sitting up and watching TV.
“I would love to hear more about your vision for this section of the magazine, Talia,” Asante Dillard, the owner of the magazine stated as Kenyatta Wilder, the magazine’s editor, bobbed her head.
I opened my iPad and showed them the sketches I created, the flowchart of ideas that I had, and finally, what I hoped the section would look like if I were the writer for that column.
“So, you’re thinking to do what with the contests?” Asante asked after I finished my spiel.
“The contests will be open to the magazine’s readers. They will submit recipes quarterly when the submissions are open, and they will have a specific deadline to have them in by. We will narrow it down to four finalists and invite them into the studio space to cook their recipes live. We can air it on the magazine’s YouTube channel and have people vote. The winner will have their recipe featured the next quarter, write a feature article, and win a six-month internship with Chef Caesar at Pearls & Swine in Atlanta.”
“Wow. He’s a world-renowned chef,” Kenyatta stated.
I nodded.
“He has twenty-three Michelin stars, and the restaurant has won the James Beard award on five different occasions,” Asante remarked, impressed.
“Exactly. I trained under Chef Caesar and became his sous chef until I returned home.”
“Why would you give up a dream job of working under someone like Chef Caesar?” Kenyatta asked in confusion.
“My life had other plans for me,” I stated simply.
I refused to discuss my private life or allow that to impact my job opportunities here at the magazine or anywhere else.
“So, your sole focus has been your online column?” Asante asked.
“Yes.”
“You’ve had great success with that blog. You’re one of the major influencers in the foodie world for people aged sixteen to thirty-eight. That’s a big population. Why would you want to write for our magazine?” Kenyatta asked.
“To expand my reach and to influence the food world differently, not just sharing my opinions about restaurant experiences, food, and hospitality but also using my reach to open doors for others. Hence, the contests.”
Both ladies nodded. I watched as they put their heads together and whispered for a few seconds before they turned back to me.
“Talia, we initially were hesitant about offering you the position because all of our other applicants have a degree in journalism, communications, English, or some other related field. You don’t have any of those. You also didn’t attend a four-year university, but that’s not a bad thing. Why should we offer you this position?” Asante asked.
“Listen,” I started as I leaned forward and clasped my hands together on the table. “I can spend years in a university, but that would be a waste of time. Those universities cannot instill the natural gifts I have inside of me for teaching, cooking, and inventing. They cannot teach me creativity. Those are things that are inherent in me, and they cannot be enhanced through attending school. I skipped a grade because of my academic intelligence. I didn’t need any more schooling to strengthen what I was already passionate about.
“I needed real-world experience, which was why I went to school at Archambeau Culinary Institute for two years and quickly gained a six-week externship at Pearls & Swine. Learning under Chef David Archambeau was an experience that was only enhanced by Chef Caesar. I gained things under their tutelage that no school could teach me. This is what I want to bring to your magazine and your readers. I want to share my passion for cooking with them in hopes that I will open their minds to revolutionary ideas and prepare the next generation of chefs. Can I do it through my blog? Absolutely, but you have a different audience that I would like to reach.”
They put their heads together and whispered again. Finally, they turned to face me.
“We would like to offer you the position…How does this sound to you?” Asante asked as she wrote something on a strip of paper and then slid it across the table to me.
I stared at it, did some minor calculations in my mind, and then I scratched out her number. I wrote a new number and slid it back to her. Asante lifted her eyebrows, showed it to Kenyatta, and then turned back to me.
“Okay. It’s a deal,” Asante stated and stood.
I stood and shook hands with both ladies. “We’ve already had HR put together a packet for you. Kenyatta can walk you around there to grab the packet, and we’ll just have them change the number, Talia, then you can be on your way. Once we have everything finalized and signed back from you, we’ll get you started. I’m thinking four weeks from today. Does that work for you?”
I smiled. “That sounds like a plan to me,” I agreed.
My heart was light, and I was filled with joy. I couldn’t wait to call Izael and share the news with him. My light was only slightly dimmed by the knowledge that he wouldn’t be at my apartment waiting for me when I arrived.
Kenyatta walked me out as Asante left to see about a visitor waiting for her in her office.
“Are you excited?” Kenyatta asked.
“I’m surprised and excited. When you all called me back the other day, I was shocked. What made you all change your mind?” I asked. “I mean, my mama always said don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I am curious.”
Kenyatta shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just know that Asante told me that she changed her mind, and she wanted to reconsider your application. We looked it over again, and we both agreed again that you were the perfect fit,” she explained as we walked around the corner to the administrative offices.
“Oh, you thought so before?”
“Yes. But there were also other qualified candidates. We were torn between you and one other person.”
“Well, I’m glad I was chosen,” I admitted as we walked into the administrative office.
“So am I. I believe this is going to be beneficial for everyone around the board. Give me just a minute to speak with Grace and get your packet,” Kenyatta stated. “Please have a seat.”
I sat in one of the chairs that were positioned along the wall that she pointed to. I pulled out my phone while I waited and sent a text to Izael.
ME:
Hey, baby. Guess what?
I twiddled my thumbs and anxiously waited for his response. Kenyatta returned in ten minutes.
“Sorry about that. I had to wait for Grace to finish a call. You’ll find the offer letter inside this envelope with the revised salary along with instructions for how you can go online and get the background check started. Remember that this offer is contingent upon you passing the background check.”
“No drug test?” I asked as I looked through the papers.
“No, because although you’re a writer, you’re not like the other staff who work in house all the time. Because you’ll only be here one or two days out of the week, you’re free to do you. I say that very lightly, though.”
“Don’t worry. I have no plans on going out and getting smashed or addicted to anything. This alone is my high…well…sugar.”
Kenyatta laughed as we stepped out of the office.
“Yeah, you and me both. Well, thanks again for returning and interviewing with us. I look forward to working with you, Talia.”
“And the same for me, Kenyatta. It was a pleasure talking with you both.”
She nodded and led me to the receptionist’s desk. “Amerie, would you please stamp Ms. Campbell’s parking pass?”
“Sure,” the receptionist stated and looked at me with a brilliant smile.
Kenyatta walked off while I searched my purse for my parking pass. Just as she disappeared I heard some voices coming around the corner. One of them was Asante. She must have finished her meeting, but the other voice was all too familiar and caused my fingers to freeze inside of my purse.
“If you don’t have your ticket, I can call down to security and ask?—”
“Oh, no. I’m sure that it’s in here somewhere,” I muttered as I strained to hear the conversation that drew closer to us. I pulled the pass out and handed it to the receptionist.
“Thank you so much for calling back and changing your mind. You know that we value your opinion and hold it in high regard, Zae.”
“Not a problem at all. I’m just glad that you considered my change of heart,” Izael stated and chuckled.
“With your initial concerns, I wouldn’t have moved forward on hiring her for our cooking column. But I’m glad that you no longer hold those same reservations. I know that she’ll be a great hire,” Asante declared as they stepped into the lobby.
“Here you are,” Amerie stated and handed my pass back to me.
I looked up from the pass, and Izael’s eyes met mine. He had a worried expression on his face, and Asante’s eyes lit up.
“Oh, there she is now. I’m glad that I caught you before you left. I was just telling our board chair that I think you’ll be a perfect fit for our magazine. Talia Campbell, meet Izael Ellis, our board chair.” Asante introduced us.
My heart slammed in my chest, and I was stunned. Asante’s words about Izael changing his mind about me being hired raced through my mind as a niggling thought crept into my mind. I kept trying to reach for it, but it was eluding me.
“Talia?” Asante stated.
Just as she called my name, the other thought popped up. The day that Izael had been on my computer to sign his contract, I had forgotten to close out of my dashboard that day. My blog was something that I still hadn’t shared with him yet, but when I pulled it up the next morning, I hit the back arrow to go back to what I had been working on last.
Only that wasn’t what came up. Some other articles that I hadn’t even opened in a while popped up. I realized then that Izael might have accidentally clicked on something, but when he never mentioned my blog, I assumed he didn’t realize anything. Now, I knew that he had known all along. But why would he have gotten involved with my application to BBBG magazine?
“I…uhm…I have to go,” I declared.
“Talia! Wait!” Izael called after me.
I ran my ass out of that building so fast people would have thought I was running a marathon. It didn’t matter that I had on high heels. I didn’t let that slow me down. Instead, I allowed my fury to fuel my pace. I didn’t stop until I was in my car and had peeled out of the parking lot.