He stopped chopping to give me a look. “You think he’s going to let you mix up his menu? He credits the damn thing as the reason Bianca hasn’t gone bankrupt yet.”
“We’re not going to ask his opinion,” I told him conspiratorially. “When it comes to my brother, it’s better to employ the whole ‘it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission’ game plan.” I realized I’d just tipped my hand. If Blaze wanted me out, he could absolutely use this against me.
Not that it would do him a whole lot of good.
But if Ezra came back to me today or tomorrow forbidding me to change his menu, I would know where Blaze and I stood.
Blaze chuckled at my approach to getting what I want and said, “You’re the boss.”
That was true. I was the boss.
I stood there for several more minutes, watching the staff scurry back and forth, preparing for tonight’s service. Aside from Ashlynn, they seemed to be a great group. They all knew what they were doing, and they didn’t need a lot of instruction—or maybe that was my lack of experience, not knowing how to instruct them.
Letting out a slow breath, I decided not to worry about all the things I didn’t know for today. I had plenty of time to worry about it on Monday when we revamped the menu and I had to help them transition.
After a few minutes, the tense silence from my sous chef got to me. “What kind of name is Blaze? It sounds like you should have been a stunt double or spy or something.”
He smiled at the thin strips of onion on the cutting board in front of him. “My parents thought they were clever. My younger sister’s name is Ember.”
“I kind of like it actually,” I told him. “Blaze and Ember. It’s clever.”
“Thank you.”
He grabbed another onion and had the skin off for quick chopping in seconds. Cutting onions wasn’t a job he needed to concern himself with. He was the boss while I was gone. He could have easily delegated this to anyone else.
“On second thought, it’s a perfect name for a chef.” I rolled it around in my mouth again before admitting, “Blaze Ferrand. You’ll be Michelin starred before you know it.”
He smiled without looking at me. “Maybe one day.”
Now that the onions were out of the way, I took advantage, turning around and hopping up on the counter to sit so I could look at him.
“Loyalty.” The word was out of my mouth before I knew what I was going to say. My voice had just enough edge to catch his attention. He set his knife to the side and looked up at me.
“What about it?”
“I want it,” I explained. “Yours.” He leaned forward on his hands, dropping his head and hunching his shoulders. I continued before he could deny me the one thing, the only thing, I wanted from him. “I know I haven’t earned it. I realize you’re looking at me like I got lucky, like I got the job because my brother is the owner, like I don’t deserve to be where I am. And honestly, you might be right. But I would like the opportunity to prove myself before you totally write me off. I won’t even get a chance to get this right if you’re just waiting for me to quit. Or fail. Or worse. So, either I need your loyalty, or I need you to leave.”
I knew both of us were surprised at the way I’d delivered my speech. I hadn’t been tough or stern since I fired Ashlynn. If anything, I’d been overly nice and polite to make up for my egomaniac moment.
“I don’t trust you.” His honest admission was even more shocking than my ultimatum. “You haven’t earned it yet.”
Was that true? What was a reasonable expectation of this staff? Weighing his words, I realized he was right. I couldn’t expect, after only a little while of working together and in a position that for all intents and purposes looked and felt and smelled like nepotism, for him to blindly trust me.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t respect me, listen to me, and get behind me. At least until I proved myself one way or the other.
“Fair enough,” I told him. “Still want your loyalty.”
His head cocked to the side as he regarded me openly. “All right. You can have my loyalty. Let’s see what you do with it.”
He wasn’t going to make this easy on me.
Strangely, I was okay with that. I respected his careful, honest approach to our working relationship. I appreciated that he was upfront with me without being disrespectful or downright insolent. And I appreciated that he did a good job when I asked, even before he trusted me.
“Right now, I’m going to leave and let you be in charge.” I smiled, hoping he would feel some levity.
His lips cracked in a barely-there smile. “Sounds good.”
Jumping off the counter, I brushed a hand over my butt just in case an onion paper had decided to hitch a ride. “Thanks, Blaze. I appreciate you taking over so I can go to this wedding.”
