Page 40 of The Unwilling Bride
Not when he didn’t even interview me.
“Spontaneous decisions are highly unusual for James. Which makes how he hired you stand out more. I’m sure he saw something in you.” Mark shoots me a sideways glance.
“He probably saw me and decided it was time for ‘fresh meat’ that he can beat the life out of.” I blow out a breath. “Maybe he’s trying to prove that he made the right choice?”
"By testing you?” He frowns.
"By testing me.” I tuck errant strands of hair under my chef’s skull cap.
"Just don’t show him any weakness. If you do, he’ll go straight for that like a shark." He nods toward Ollie, who’s shuffling up the hallway and toward James’ office.
His head is bent. His shoulders slumped.
"Bye-bye, Ollie." Mark shrugs.
"How can you be so callous?" I scowl.
"It’s survival of the fittest. Ollie’s been missing shifts, turning up late, and his dish got sent back by a guest."
"Ollie’s got a sick mother. He’s taking care of her and working here.” I bite the inside of my cheek.
I shouldn’t be worried about someone else. I have enough issues of my own, with the Lord and Master picking on me, but it feels wrong that James keeps picking on him almost as much as me.
"We've all got issues." Mark shrugs. "Plus, he didn’t have the answers James was looking for today.”
"Nice save with the dinosaur kid, by the way.” Henrik nods at me.
He was the first employee James hired and the one who’s lasted the longest. Older than James, with salt-and-pepper hair and a comfortable paunch, and he has an easygoing manner that makes him popular with the team. He’s also one of the few people James genuinely trusts.
His recognition makes me feel good.
But it’s nothing like the internal burst of fireworks I experience when James praises me for something I’ve done.
That probably says something about me. Something a therapist would enjoy unpacking.
Not that I have one. Yet.
Although, if I keep working with the Duke of “Adequate,” I may soon need one. I snort to myself. At least, he pays me well enough to afford the sessions.
Small mercies, eh?
I swallow down my chuckle, bowing my head in acknowledgement. "It was nothing.”
"You're getting good at these briefings, kid." He looks at me with admiration in his eyes. “Keep it up.” He nods at me then moves on, no doubt, on his way to speak with James, who must be in his office.
“The general manager likes you. You’ve got a great future here, kid,” Mark emphasizes the last word.
It’s not my fault I look younger than I am.
At twenty-six, I’m not old, especially not in the restaurant world. But inside, I feel older. Life has made sure of that.
The problem is that my face still makes me look closer to twenty-one.
In most kitchens, like at The Edge, I’m already the only woman. Looking this young just makes it worse. People assume I don’t belong there. Or they resent how quickly I’ve moved up.
Either way, it makes the job harder.
“Henrik’s a good guy. He has a good word for most people.” I try to play down Henrik’s encouragement.
