Andre raises his eyebrow and nods.
“I don’t doubt you at all,” he says. “But there goes that passion again. I was just overthinking it a little, ignore me. Perhaps it’s been a little too long since I tasted those mango scallops and chili clams.”
I laugh, if anything to release the tension of talking about Knife.
“Well you’re my boss now, so you can have them whenever you like—though I suspect we’re fully booked for the next three months.”
Andre laughs, taps his satchel, and starts walking away.
“It’s going to be a hell of a ride. I can’t wait.”
“Yeah,” I say, as he pushes through the nylon curtain. I look back at the pile of fish guts. “Neither can I.”
21
Cole
Charles is standing in the office when I enter and dump the boxes of dragonfruit and lime in the office.
“Tonight’s the night,” he says, standing with his hands behind his back, making me wonder if he waited for me like that.
“I know,” I say, pulling out a pocket knife and cutting one of the dragonfruits down the middle. “I don’t care.”
I scoop some of the fruit out and try it.
“You don’t care?” Charles says, in the mildly-humored way he asks questions. “Apparently it’s the biggest film premiere of the year—there will be photographers here, you know.”
I look at Charles as I make my way back behind my desk, putting the fruit down on it—it’s good enough.
“Well, Hollywood people are customers just like everybody else,” I say nonchalantly.
The truth is, I wasn’t even talking about the premiere’s private after-party. Something a million times more dramatic and emotionally charged is going to be happening just a couple of streets away from those flash-lit celebrities: Chow’s opening night.
“You want some of this?” I ask in an attempt to try and change the subject, offering the other half of the fruit to Charles, who shakes his head.
I continue eating the fruit, taking a couple of bites and then looking up at him, still standing there as if he’s waiting for something more, a vaguely concerned look on his face.
“That’s strange. Usually you know when a conversation has run its course, Charles,” I say, my misdirected irritation about Chow’s opening night now coming to the fore.
As if reading my thoughts, Charles’ next words are, “That new restaurant a few blocks away is called Chow, I heard. And it’s opening tonight.”
“Is that so?” I say, leaning back, noticing how he’s carefully not mentioning Willow by name.
“I don’t know how, but apparently it’s causing quite a buzz already. Got a lot of people excited.”
I feel my jaw clench. “Mm-hmm.”
“But then, I’m sure you already knew that,” Charles says, clearing his throat. “Just let me know if you need anything above and beyond the usual, to keep things running smoothly tonight. Since this…after-party…could be stressful for you.”
“I’m sure whatever comes up, I can handle it,” I practically growl.
Charles seems to take the hint, leaving the office quickly and closing the door behind him.
I cut another chunk of fruit but I can’t eat it with my gut tied up so tight, so I get up from my chair to pace a little, try and shake the anxious energy from my limbs.
All I can think about is Chow, and what’ll happen when it opens its doors tonight. I picture Willow moving around the kitchen like a dervish, barking orders and exhibiting more kitchen skills in a minute than most people learn over a lifetime. That determined, focused expression on her face—the same one I saw when she cooked for me…
They say if you love someone then you set them free, but I know that’s bullshit now. I’m beyond trying to delude myself into thinking I don’t love her anymore, but love unfulfilled can burn you from the inside. It can harden into a steel knife that twists with each memory, that digs into you constantly until the whole world becomes a collection of reminders of what you need so badly.
There’s a dark, twisted part of me that wants Chow to fail. Not for revenge over the betrayal Willow committed, but so she’ll come back. I know it’s wrong, and every time I think of her going through the same hardships I went through to build Knife, I want to root for her the same way I rooted for myself when I was attempting the impossible. But then what? If Chow succeeds and Willow gets everything she’s ever wanted in life, I’ll be just another chapter in her past, a stepping stone toward her happy ending. There’s no winning someone back when they’re doing so well without you.
I look up when I hear a knock at the door, striding across the office with a frown on my face to yank it open.
“Hello,” the young woman behind it says, beaming an innocent smile. It’s Maggie.
She steps back and Chloe shuffles forward, the girl looking up at me with her gap-toothed smile.
“Hi Cole!” she says excitedly, running into the office.
I turn back to the woman.
“What’s going on? The young chef program is done.”
“Yes I know,” Maggie says, with teacherly softness. “But Chloe finally competed in the finals of the statewide cooking competition, and she wanted to tell you how it went.” I nod, still bemused. “Plus, we were in the neighborhood and I really needed to run to the ladies’ room—do you mind? It’ll give you two a few minutes to catch up.”
“Of course,” I say, pointing down the hall, and she zips away from the door, leaving me alone with my former mentee.
“Cole, you’ll never believe it! Look at this,” Chloe says, holding something out toward me.
I look down to examine the bright blue and gold ribbon she’s got in her hand.
“Third place?” I say, trying to hide the disappointment I’m feeling for her.
“Yeah! Isn’t that great? I’m soooo happy!” Chloe says proudly, looking back at the ribbon and stroking it tenderly. “Thank you so much, Cole. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
She launches herself at me, hugging my side tightly while I give her a few careful, mentorly pats on the back and try to process the insanity of everything that’s going on right now. When she finally lets go I stand and rub my brow.
“Why not first place?” I say. “What happened?”
“Well, first place was amazing,” she says, without a hint of envy or anger. “It was this mustard and tar… tarregan—”
“Tarragon.”
“Mustard and tarragon chicken—so delicious. He deserved it. He was really nice too, and he gave me his e-mail so we could trade recipes! Plus it’s not really about the trophy or the ribbons anyway, it’s about showing everything we learned, and making friends with the other chefs, and seeing how other people cooked. The competition was the most fun ever.”