Chapter 12 #2
It’s eight p.m., and Charlie is at least fed and in her room, on her iPad, while I’m banging my head against the kitchen table.
Ten hours of doom after that email from him hit my inbox, I still have no solution to his “assignment.” To make matters worse, I’m less than thrilled when Nathan’s “name” pops up on my screen.
Bosshole
Checking in.
Me
Isn’t it past ten at night where you are?
Bosshole
Yes. Is it inappropriate to be texting this late?
Me
Yes. What do you need?
Bosshole
I was wondering who you secured for tomorrow evening?
Me
Don’t you want to be surprised?
Bosshole
Not particularly. Let me know if I need a backup plan.
Me
I believe I responded to your email informing you I’d handle it.
Bosshole
You did. And is it handled?
Me
Mr. Hatcher, surely you have more important things to do than micromanage me.
Bosshole
I’m a very hands-on boss.
I wish he were here so he could see the expression on my face. His glaring hypocrisy is impressive, really. I’m trying to think of the perfect witty reply. I don’t want to poke the bear and cause a full-on attack. What’s the sassy equivalent of giving a grizzly the middle finger?
Before I can think of the perfect reply, my phone rings. I actually drop to my knees on my kitchen tile thanking every god imaginable for Dex’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hey, Dex. Thanks for calling.”
“Of course. Is this a good time, or I can call back?”
“It’s a perfect time. Why?”
“You sound out of breath. Are you working out?”
I snort at the idea. “Definitely not. The breathlessness you’re hearing is from the rage-induced panic attack I’ve been having since ten this morning.”
“Oh… Wait, what? Have you gone to the doctor, because?—”
“It was a joke, Dex. I’m fine. I think… Actually, whether or not I’m fine is highly reliant on why you’re calling. None of my other leads panned out.”
I trill my fingers nervously against the hard floor, praying for good news.
“I have good news and bad news,” Dex says.
“You sure it’s not good news, and then slightly less good news?”
He laughs. “No, definitely a good-news-bad-news situation. Do you know the chef Tansy Haleen?”
Tansy, Tansy…so familiar. “Jog my memory?”
“She’s the chef that cooks with pink pots and pans. She has her own show on Food Network, and she’s a guest judge on?—”
“Gah! Yes, Final Cut .” I love that cooking competition.
There’s something about enjoying extreme stress when it’s not your own.
All the competitors on Final Cut have to cook with unconventional mystery food items that they can’t see until the clock starts ticking.
Brilliantly evil, especially when the surprise items are alive.
One poor sap got his eye poked by a lobster.
He cooked an entire four-course meal half-blinded, and they still eliminated him in the final round. Savage.
“Tansy and I go way back. She helps plan the menu for some of the fine-dining restaurants on our ships. I reached out and she got back to me.”
“ Yes ! Amazing. Tansy will be perfect.”
“She’s in France right now and can’t get back in time.”
“Dammit,” I grumble.
“But she’s actually opening a brand-new restaurant right on the Strip.”
“Great! I mean, that’s a start at least?—”
“It’s not open yet.”
I let out a shaky exhale through gritted teeth. “You’re really playing with my emotions over here, Dex.” And my blood pressure.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll get to the point. I can’t get you a celebrity chef in time for tomorrow night, but Tansy said her restaurant’s soft opening is next week. The kitchen is fully operational and mostly stocked. It’s yours if you can find someone.”
Think, think, think. Okay, I have a restaurant, just not a chef. That’s still something, right? “What’s it called?”
“Viva.”
“I’ll take it,” I blurt out as a sly plan quickly comes together in my mind.
“Great. I’ll let her know. She’ll have someone messenger over the keys. Sorry I couldn’t do more.”
“Are you kidding? Literally thank you from the depths of my soul. I can’t tell you how many calls I made today.” A lot of people tried to help me, and I’m so grateful. But Dex is the only one who came back with something tangible.
“Will this solve your whole boss problem?”
“Oh, you mean the Hydra I work for? No, I’ll need Hercules and a thick sword to handle him. But this at least helps me keep my job, so again, thank you.”
Dex laughs. “May I say, this guy is really bringing out the best in you.”
“Sarcasm?”
“Absolutely. Why don’t you just quit? Lennox and I can figure out something for you.”
Swinging my legs around on the sleek, tile floor, I move my weight to my rear and scoot backward.
There’s a little clunk as I lean against a kitchen cabinet.
The door won’t fully close because my pots and pans are too big for this doll-sized kitchen.
Honestly, I’m making do with what I have.
Yes, the apartment is too small. No, we don’t have a lot of nice things.
But I’m trying to stay focused on what I do have—my sister, my health.
A job, for now. Surviving means you’re still in the fight, and that’s something to be grateful for.
“I didn’t want to be a mooch.”
“I said we’d arrange a job, not a winning lottery ticket.”
“But Hessler Group is in Miami. I didn’t want to be there anymore.”
“We have remote employees, Spence.”
“None that are entry level. You require all your managers to be on-site. Your only remote positions are for board members and department directors. I’m not qualified for those positions.
” I looked into this when I found out Jesse drained Charlie’s trust fund.
High-level positions were not an option.
I barely have a bachelor’s degree, let alone ten or more years of experience.
And I certainly couldn’t work and live on the cruise ships. What would I do with Charlie?
“We could’ve created something.”
“I didn’t want to take advantage of my friends.”
“Well, I know for a fact that Lennox sees you more as family than a friend. And just so you’re aware, family absolutely takes advantage of family. It’s in the fine print.”
I smile into the phone. “Good to know.”
“We’re here if you need anything. If you hate your boss, quit. You’re not alone, kid.”
I know he meant it as a term of endearment, but that word.
I hate it. A kid would expect handouts and someone to swoop in and fix their life.
I can’t be a kid… I have one. And I’m trying to set a good example for Charlie by showing her I can stand on my own two feet.
I relied on Jesse to share the load that was mine to carry for way too long. Look how that turned out.
“Thanks, Dex.”
“No problem. All right, I’m off to the grocery store for yet another late-night chocolate mint ice cream run. Three nights in a row, now.”
I laugh. “Just buy a whole carton so you don’t have to keep running out.”
“Dude,” he says. “I am. This baby eats like an offensive lineman, I swear. Don’t tell Lennox I told you that.”
We both burst out in laughter before ending the call.
I’ll admit, I feel a little lighter after that conversation. It’s nice to know I have a safety net if I really need it. It’d be the simpler solution, sure. Quit on Nathan, work for my friends. I can consider it… For now, I have unfinished business.
Next on my to-do list: Address Nathan’s unanswered text.
Bosshole
Still there? I need to know the plan for tomorrow night.
Me
Eight o’clock at Tansy Haleen’s up-and-coming restaurant, Viva.
Bosshole
Really. How’d you pull that off?
Me
It’s better not to share details…just in case you get subpoenaed.
Bosshole
Funny. Fine. Arrange a private transport to pick me and Shaylin up from the airport at 7:30.
Me
Will do.
His response bubble populates a few times before ultimately it disappears. He must decide against “thank you” or “goodnight.”
That’s okay. His rudeness only adds fuel to flames, and at this point, I’m channeling my inner phoenix. I’m going to wipe that stupid, cocky smirk off of Nathan’s face if it’s the very last thing I do.