Chapter 57
fifty-seven
ELLIE
“I feel so nauseated right now,” I tell Rowan while I pace back and forth in his living room.
The next day, I decide that I needed to call my boss. The big guy. The head honcho. And tell her that I’m resigning. I’ve never felt so sick in my life. I feel terrible for letting her down, for having to say no, something I really don’t like doing. But at the same time, I think she will want me to be happy. Truly happy.
“I can pretend to be you. I’ll do it.” Rowan shrugs.
I stop to look at Rowan, and he clears his throat.
“Hi, Mrs. Chef, it’s Ellie,” he tries to sound like me but is doing a terrible job.
“Okay, stop that immediately. You are not doing that, and I do not sound like a mouse from Cinderella.”
He crosses his arms and grins at me. “Maybe Milo can do it for you then?”
I look at Milo, who’s lying on his back and snoring. If I could trade places with him, I would. I take a deep inhale, filling up my lungs until I can’t anymore, and exhale it out. I press the call button on my phone, holding it up to my ear and covering my eyes.
“Why are you covering your eyes? She’s not here,” Rowan says.
I swat my hand at him, silently telling him to please shut up, and then I hear the phone stop ringing.
“Hello,” Chef Roberts says through the phone.
“Hi, C-Chef Roberts? It’s Chef Thompson. I mean, Ellie, it’s Ellie.” I place my hand on my forehead and tilt my head back. Get your shit together, Ellie, stop stuttering.
“Ellie, I’m so happy to hear from you again. How are you? I am counting down the days until you come back to the kitchen. I miss seeing your work,” she says excitedly.
“Yes, about that,” I say nervously and look at Rowan.
He gives me a thumbs-up and the sweetest smile ever. I smile back, and he mouths you’ve got this. I nod my head.
“I’m sorry to say this over the phone, but I will not be returning to the kitchen. I’m resigning.” I stop pacing and hold my breath.
I hear absolutely nothing on the other end. No static. No breathing. Nothing. I pull the phone away to make sure she’s still on the line. Rowan lifts his hand in question, and I shrug in return. I put the phone back to my ear.
“Chef?” I ask.
“I had a feeling this would happen.” Her voice comes out eerily calm.
I swallow what feels like a rock in my throat and try to keep my voice steady. “I’m sorry?”
“I’ve worked with you for nine years, Ellie. I’ve noticed the change in your demeanor, the creativity, and the drive you once had. You did not have that fire in your eye like you once did. The passion isn’t there like it used to be, and it breaks my heart for you. I know how hard this industry can be, and I was hoping that it would not break you.”
I stand there, no words coming out of my mouth, no sound. I don’t move. I’m not sure what to say to that. Do I let her keep talking?
“Is this true, Ellie? Do you believe that you have lost your passion in this work?” she asks.
I open my mouth, trying to find the words that want to come out. Yes and no. Yes, I’ve lost it for what I was doing. No, I haven’t lost it for what I want to do.
“I’m afraid that I’ve burned myself out. I love what I’ve done these past nine years, and I am so grateful for the opportunity I was given and the achievements I’ve accomplished. But it’s not the same anymore. I am very sorry for disappointing you. You know it’s something that I don’t like doing. I hate myself for it.”
“Ellie, please do not hate yourself. That is ridiculous. You are still so young and have so many things you can be doing. You can travel and learn more. You can work in a small bakery. You can open your own bakery. ”
“Funny that you mention that. My family and friends have been nagging me about opening my own bakery.”
Rowan looks up from his phone at me. He raises his brows in questioning, and I give him a tight smile.
“Ellie, I think you have so much talent that I’m scared you are going to put it to waste. You have an incredible imagination. I would hate to see that go away. I never shared this with anyone except my wife, but I've always loved the idea of opening my own space. A little family company that I can pass down from generation to generation.
“But I also liked the fast pace of life. I liked the loudness of the kitchens and the chaotic yet structured life. The adrenaline of it all. But you, you have something, an opportunity that you can take and run with. This could be something that you can pass down. You’ve already made a name for yourself, so now, you should do what truly makes you happy. If that’s baking at home in private, that’s fine. If you decide to open a bakery, that would be incredible, and I will be the first in line when it opens. I have so much faith in you and your abilities. I know you can do whatever it is that you put your mind to.”
I wipe away the tears that caught up to me unexpectedly. Relief runs through my body, and I feel…excited for this new chapter. One of the most influential and important people in my life has just given me what I needed. What I didn’t know I needed.
“I do have a request, though,” she adds.
“A request?” I say through watery tears.
Rowan looks at me, now just seeing what my emotions are doing to me. He quickly gets up and wraps his arms around me while I continue to talk on the phone.
“Yes. How would you feel about curating the dessert menu for me? Think of it as one last hurrah. I’ve seen what you make in your spare time. I would love a piece of you with me as you start this new journey.”
I let out a sigh and a smile, processing what she just asked of me. Something I never thought I’d dream of doing in a place like The Red Table. I hold on to Rowan’s arm while the phone is still pressed to my ear.
I sniff. “How soon would you need it?”
“Two weeks. Can you do that for me?” I hear the smile in her voice.
I wipe away a tear.
I nod enthusiastically. “Yes. I can get the menu for you.”
Rowan bends to the side to look at me, and all I can do is smile at him, telling him through my expression that this is good news. I nod lightly to him.
“Two weeks,” she repeats.
“Yes, of course. Thank you so much for this opportunity.”
“No, thank you, Ellie. I’ll speak with you soon.”
“Yes, I’ll speak to you soon. Goodbye, Chef.”
I hang up the phone and look at Rowan.
“What? What happened?” He unwraps his arms from me and places his hands on his hips, waiting for whatever it is I’m going to say.
I look at him and then at his giant kitchen and point to it. “Mind if I use your kitchen?”