Chapter 12
Ruben
My nervousness found its way out through my fingers. I tapped the tips of my fingers on the tablecloth.
“That’s all settled,” said Connie. “You have your assignments for the weekend. Everyone should have the opportunity to show themselves in the best light.”
I reached for a teaspoon and rolled it in my hands.
“Jacques won’t bite. Only if you ask nicely.”
Jacques. I didn’t know if Connie was really that close to the hottest star chef in the northern hemisphere, but she gave us that impression.
That’s why I had come here. To gain experience. To work on my network.
But despite the stress caused by the celebrity chef’s visit, Shane’s words kept coming to the forefront of my mind. How do we do it when we take someone home to fuck? I hadn’t answered him for two days. However, this problem had to be solved sooner rather than later.
Since then, I had entered our cabin on edge every time.
Always worried that I would find Shane fucking someone.
But either he wasn’t there at all, or he was sprawled on his bed.
Or he was showering—alone. But I feared that this luck would not last long.
There was still hope that Shane’s respective bed partners had a clear arrangement with their roommates and that the tête-à-têtes took place there.
Angrily, I pushed the spoon away.
“Is that okay, Ruben?” Connie’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I was catapulted back to the table with my colleagues.
“Um. Yes?!”
She studied at me with a raised eyebrow. “Please wait a moment until we’re done here.”
I swallowed hard. Damn. “Sure.”
She adjourned the meeting, and the chefs either scattered to their respective homes or workplaces.
Like a naughty schoolboy, I trudged over to Connie, who was already waiting for me.
“Ruben. You’ve been here for a month now, and I would’ve thought that you would step up your game now that we’re expecting our guest. You’re a great cook and a good employee.
But for the past few days, you’ve been unfocused.
I can’t put it any other way. You’re doing what needs to be done, so far, so good.
But we need outstanding performance here.
And I know you can deliver it. I saw that in your first few weeks here. What’s going on?”
I sucked in my lower lip and thought hard. “It’s just . . . I’ve had a roommate for a few days now and . . . ” Did I really want to beg my boss to help me solve my accommodation problem?
“Okay. But shouldn’t you be settled in after a few days? Is there a problem with him?”
“Ah!” I glanced at her helplessly.
“Ruben, I expect professionalism here. If something as minor as a new roommate throws you off balance this much, I honestly don’t know what to say.”
Neither do I. My childish behavior was jeopardizing my reputation.
“If this is all too much for you, I’ll reassign you. And you can take the weekend off. I’m not sure if Loren is ready yet, but it’s worth a try if you know you’re not focused.”
“No!” I blurted out. “No! No way. I’ve got myself under control and it’s no problem.” At least I wouldn’t let it be a problem. Shane wanted to fuck some people, and I would concentrate on my work.
Connie eyed me with a slightly doubtful expression. “All right. I’m counting on you.”
“You can!” I assured her vehemently. My head nodded as if it were a ridiculous bobblehead, but I had to use every means at my disposal to emphasize my seriousness.
“Get some rest. By tomorrow, I want a thousand percent from you!”
“Absolutely!” I confirmed again. But Connie was already on her way to the kitchen.
Heavily, I made my way to our cabin. I dragged my feet as if lead weights were attached to them.
Damn. Maybe I should talk to Shane. No! After the weekend. I wanted to focus on Jacques and the opportunities that would open up for me if I made a good impression.
Luckily, Shane wasn’t there when I entered the room.
I took a quick shower and got changed. Armed with a pen and paper, I sat on my bed and went through tomorrow’s menu again.
The entire program. My work steps. I repeated them in my mind.
I noted down small details. I played through my ingredient list in my head.
Today, I had seen everything in the warehouse that wouldn’t be delivered fresh the following day.
Everything was perfectly prepared. And yet I couldn’t shake this feeling of unease. Nervously, I turned to a new page in my notebook and drew dots on it. I went through the rest in my head.
The ringing of my smartphone snapped me out of my thoughts. With trembling fingers, I answered Sway’s call.
“God, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she cooed into the phone. “I wanted to see how you were doing and had a tiny little question.”
Grateful, I leaned back on my bed. “Go ahead, ask your question. I’m fine.”
“But you sound tense,” Sway insisted.
I ran my hand over my face. “Oh. Jacques Tedemens is coming to see us tomorrow. And I’ve been assigned as chef de partie to the garde manger.”
Sway’s loud inhale fueled my nervousness. “Ruben, that’s fantastic! You’re in charge of the appetizers or salads, and Jacques Tedemens will be there. What do you have planned?”
I laughed softly. Sway listened attentively as I told her about beetroot carpaccio, Jerusalem artichoke purée, pumpkin seed sorbet, and salads.
“It’s an incredible opportunity. But I’m so nervous.
Maybe because I dawdled around last year.
I was my own boss in the food truck all summer and fall.
Now having to deliver for someone else is strange.
It’s not that I took it easy in the truck.
Of course, I did my best and tried to make exactly what my guests wanted.
But now I have to cook in a way that suits the head chef and also satisfies the guests. ”
“Oh, come on,” Sway interjected. “The snobs staying at your hotel this weekend won’t notice the difference. If Jacques Thingamajig is on the menu, they’ll assume it’s great.”
“Ah,” I tried to appease her. “It’s not that simple.
These kinds of guests can be difficult and particularly critical.
” I twirled my pen between my fingers. “Since any criticism will ultimately fall back on Jacques, I assume he’s particularly nasty when things don’t go the way he wants them to.
At least, that’s what I’ve experienced often enough. ”
Sway snorted. “But he’s happy to take the credit—without complaining.”
Sway’s indignation amused me somewhat. “That’s how it is. I’m incredibly lucky to be appointed chef de partie. Somehow . . . I’m just not used to it anymore. It almost is easier to be responsible for everything.”
“Well, yes. But that’s a good realization. That’s why you did all that. The truck. Now the hotel. To find out what you want to do. What suits you. What you don’t care for.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose thoughtfully. “Yeah?” Sway was being way too easy on me. “But it seems like I’ll cave at the first little thing.” On top of all my thoughts, Shane’s question was still distracting me.
“I’m sure you’ll be the harshest judge of yourself. No matter what happens.”
“Maybe.” I shook my head absentmindedly. “What did you want to know from me?”
Sway took another deep breath over the phone. “I wanted to ask you a favor. I’m putting together my application for the Institute for Culinary Arts and wanted to ask if you could proofread my letter of motivation. And . . . ”
Smiling, I turned onto my side. “ . . . And?”
“Could you maybe write me a recommendation? The restaurant I’m at right now is fine and all, but they don’t let me do anything. When I asked the pastry chef yesterday if he puts a pinch of sugar in his crêpe batter, he looked at me as if I had leprosy.”
“I wouldn’t put sugar in the batter.”
“I know that!” Sway snapped at me. “That was an opener, so I’d have something to talk about. Since I’ve been there, I’ve been washing dishes and cleaning.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” It was difficult to gain a foothold in the restaurant business.
“To everyone here, I’m just my mother’s daughter.”
“If you could decide to move further away from home, I could put you in touch with one of my former college friends.”
Silence boomed through the receiver. Finally, I heard Sway sighing. We had already had this conversation a few times. “Yes. I’ll think about it.”
But that was a new answer. “I’m glad to hear it, Sway. I’ll be happy to help you as much as I can.”
Of course, I couldn’t make the decision to leave her mom and sister behind for her. But she was her own person. And not responsible for her family. That was easier said than done, though.
“Okay.” She already sounded like the Sway I knew again. Assertive, goal-oriented, and energetic. “Then I’ll send you my letter. It would be great if you could check it.”
“I will! I’ll send it back to you as soon as possible.”
After we finished our conversation, I let my eyes roam around. Same cabin. Same nervousness. Same thoughts.
Sighing, I scanned my notes and tapped my pen against the pad.
The cabin door opened, letting in a rush of cold air. I sat up straighter and furrowed my brow.
As always in the last two days, I immediately glanced behind Shane, worried that he wasn’t alone.
But like every other day, he was the only one in our room. Him, his cheeks red from the winter air, and that breath of freshness and energy that always surrounded Shane.
I wanted to sigh long and hard. To put my opinion about this situation and my . . . desire for him into that sound. I refrained from doing anything and stared at him.
Shane came in but paid me no attention. But when our eyes met, he paused.
“Hey. What’s up? Have you seen a ghost.”
Shaking my head, I closed my notebook and gathered my things. “No ghost. I’m trying to prepare myself.”
Shane hung up his jacket and peeled off his clothes. Damn it. How was I supposed to stay focused when he did these kinds of things? Undressing. Great. As if I hadn’t seen him naked before. Luckily. Or unfortunately.