I cleared my throat for a second time. “I’m still familiarizing myself with Bianca’s menu,” I confessed, hoping that if I showed them some weakness, they would drop the Pitbull act. “I’ll rely on you two a lot over the next few weeks. I appreciate your cooperation and support.”
There was a heavy beat of silence and then Blaze finally spoke. “Are you done?”
My teeth clicked together at his lack of respect for me. Both of them should have addressed me as Chef. There should have been deference in their tones. There should have been reverence in their gazes.
Instead, nothing but contempt and resentment looked back at me.
I was in so far over my head. My hand reflexively wrapped around my throat as I struggled to breathe. Desperation to preserve whatever remained of my dignity around these people kicked in and I nodded as regally as possible. “You’re dismissed,” I told them.
As soon as they turned away, I spun on my heel and bolted from the kitchen like it was on fire. Hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I refused to let my first day at my new job get to me.
My cheeks flushed as shame and embarrassment crawled up my sternum and dug into my chest. God, what was I thinking? Why had I agreed to this? Why had I let Ezra talk me into this?
A sour taste filled my mouth as I realized it hadn’t been Ezra that finally convinced me to say yes, it had been my irritation with Vann Delane. His obvious disbelief in me had kicked at my pride. And in a misguided attempt to prove him wrong, I’d given Ezra false hope that I could handle this job.
If my first staff meeting was any indication of what I was capable of, I clearly couldn’t handle this job. Or the people that worked for me.
I needed to cut my losses before it was too late. I could talk to Ezra before the rest of the staff got here. I wouldn’t even have to miss another shift at Lilou. No doubt, Wyatt would let me come back. Benny would be thrilled to give up sous chef responsibilities.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want this job anymore. I did. Or I thought I did. But eventually. Not today. Today I was just straight up not qualified for it.
I wasn’t a boss. I wasn’t a badass. I wasn’t the savior Bianca needed.
I would be the silver bullet that finally took her out for good.
Ezra was sitting at a table beneath the eyes Molly had painted, clicking away at his computer. I appreciated the space he’d given me to familiarize myself with the kitchen by working out here instead of in his office. The big brother gesture immediately softened my panicking, overly-emotional heart and I was able to slow my pace from a sprint to a stumbling walk before he noticed me.
He smiled when he saw my cautious approach. “Hey, I was just about to come find you. How’s everything going so far?”
Horrible. Terrible. I want to quit. “Your sous chefs just showed up.”
His brows furrowed together, but his proud grin stretched wider. “You meanyoursous chefs just showed up.”
Ugh, the pleased tone to his voice was like a donkey kick to the chest. “They’re intense, aren’t they?”
His expression sobered some and he regarded me carefully as I took the seat across from him. “Maybe, but they’re also really good. You’ll appreciate how hard they work every night. You’ll like them once you get to know them.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, deciding on how to tell him that I didn’t want to get to know them. I didn’t even want to see how they cooked in the kitchen tonight. I just wanted to run away and never come back.
But before I could say a word, Ezra let out a sigh filled with a hundred years of grief and pain and disappointment. “God, I wish our dad could see us.” The comment was so out of nowhere that I couldn’t control my facial spasm. He laughed at my utter shock. “We did it, Dillon. Don’t you see that? He didn’t think we’d be anything but spoiled trust fund babies. And yet here we are. We turned his money into successful careers. Doesn’t it make you so incredibly proud?”
I tried to swallow around the jumbled “I quit!” sticking in my throat. “You turned your trust fund into a successful career. I’m, uh, still figuring my shit out.”
His thousand-watt smile reappeared. “Dillon, come on! I know Bianca is struggling right now. But you’re the EC of a fucking five-star restaurant. Own that. Be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
I swatted his compliment out of the air with a swoosh of my hand before it could land anywhere near me. “I’ve accomplished nepotism. I don’t have the reputation for this, Ezra. This isn’t mine to claim.”
He rolled his eyes. “Stop looking at this like I did you some huge favor. You’re the one that’s bailing me out!”
“Oh, come on—”
“Seriously, woman. You don’t think I did my research? You think you only got this because you’re my sister. Give me some credit, I’m not a total moron.”
“What do you mean?”
“I went to Killian. I asked him to evaluate you. I interrogated Wyatt and Kaya until they blocked my number. Hell, I cross-examined the entire kitchen at Lilou. I made Vera go on secret spy missions and test your skills. This wasn’t a whim, Dillon. This was a well-researched, high-level vetting process that you passed.”
My procession line of excuses dropped to my stomach like a stone. I caught myself on the table, barely comprehending his words. “What?”
