Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kat
Three Weeks Later
My first week at The Starling had turned out to be a complete and total disaster.
Aside from the customers who were irate that there were longer wait times because I was still trying to get into the groove of things, the staff who had no respect for the privileged girl who swooped in and stole a job many of them had their eye on, and a kitchen fire—I’d had enough.
When Alissa approached me last night and said, you’re on fire, I thought she’d finally come around and was embracing me.
I’d felt on fire for the first time while I had the kitchen running in excellent condition and with no mishaps along the way.
She was the sous chef and had daggers in her eyes the moment she met me.
I was under the impression that maybe she’d had a change of heart and was open to getting to know me until I felt the heat climb the length of the apron and singe the hairs on my body. I was literally on fire.
When I got home, I opened a new bottle of wine and plopped down on the couch in the small studio apartment I already hated.
It was in a busy part of town, and aside from the loud street noise outside, I also had neighbors that kept me up all hours of the night.
On one side, I had some college-aged frat guys who partied nonstop and then had loud sex with random women—the sound of everything floating easily through the thin walls.
Then on the other side, I had a couple who did nothing but fight all the time.
The constant sound of screaming and breaking things left me in a steady state of anxiety.
It was barely after eleven, and I knew Jamie would still be up, so I sent her a text message to see how things were going there. While I didn’t want the full details of how great things were without me, I wanted to be supportive and see how she liked her new position as executive chef.
I’d been surprised when she told me that Clarissa had offered Miles the sous chef position and even more surprised when Jamie said he’d declined it.
He insisted that he loved running Miles High Food Club, yet she said he hadn’t been there much lately, leaving Darryl and Anthony to run it while he was gone.
Miles and I had texted a few times since I’d arrived in San Antonio, but it was quick and impersonal.
I think we both wanted more but knew that we couldn’t have it, so we stopped trying to make this thing work as a long-distance relationship.
Just because we had insane chemistry didn’t mean we were destined to be together.
Or at least that was what I tried to tell myself every day when the pain of missing him became unbearable.
I hadn’t planned to get attached to Miles. I had spent so much of my time purposely avoiding him for this very reason. I knew better than to let my guard down, but it happened anyway.
A few minutes later, I saw the dots bounce on the screen as she typed, then stopped. Then typed, then stopped. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand as her name lit up the caller ID on my phone.
“Hey,” I said, a little too eager to hear her voice. “You didn’t have to call if you’re busy.”
“I’m not,” she laughed. “I’m grabbing food real quick, then heading back to wrap things up.”
“Must be nice,” I teased.
“It is. Our new sous chef is good, but Clarissa wanted to test them on their own tonight during the rush to see how they’d do, so I got to sneak out for a bit.”
Her voice changed slightly at the end, and I noticed a hint of guilt.
“I’m sure they’ll do great,” I said, even though I didn’t know the person they’d hired to fill Jamie’s spot. “So, where are you?”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, regretting that I was desperate enough to ask.
“Miles High,” she said quietly. “It’s Greek night, and I was really craving a gyro.”
I smiled though she couldn’t see it, then wiped away the tear that slid down my cheek.
“Well, I won’t keep you so you can enjoy your break. Call me later, okay?”
I was about to hang up the phone when she stopped me.
“Kat,” her tone was sharp. “You know you can talk to me, right? Just because I’m getting food here doesn’t mean I’m choosing him over you.”
Before I left for San Antonio, I’d confessed everything to Jamie and cried on her couch while indulging in a carton of ice cream we shared.
She knew about my heartache and that Miles and I were still trying to be friends, though we couldn’t seem to get past our feelings that had developed for each other, which only made me leaving that much harder.
“I know,” I hiccupped, embarrassed that we were having this conversation. “I’m just tired, and it’s been a long week. I’ll check in later.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I hung up the phone, tossed it beside me on the couch, and covered my face in my hands as I cried.