Her smile faded, and her stomach hit the floor.
The chef chewing her shortbread cookie didn’t meet her eyes.
“Oh.”Josie leaned forward, willing herself not to cry.“But you said you were happy with my work.”
“My kitchen is fast-paced.We have thirty-five tables here and they turn over fast from Thursday to Sunday.We do a special feature each Monday, which brings a crowd in and we rarely have a lull.Maybe you should try a different type of restaurant.”
Her cheeks flamed.On Prince Edward Island, she worked for a celebrity chef, never missing a beat.Her references glowed.
“I kept up on service during the bench test,” Josie said.
“That’s true.Priscilla was thrilled with your work.”
Josie felt a flush climb up her neck.“Then why don’t you think I am a good fit?”
Chef McNabb clasped his hands together.“You kept up during one service, but for example, our Sunday brunch is busy and I have concerns about you keeping up all the time.At this high level, we expect consistency.A lot of young chefs have a problem with speed in the kitchen.”
“I can handle the physicality of being a chef,” Josie said.Her face grew hot and she felt about three apples high.
“As I said, maybe you can try for a different type of restaurant, one that is slower paced.”Chet McNabb grabbed another shortbread cookie.“You know, the back of the house isn’t for everyone.You have a pleasant personality.Have you thought of working on the floor?I could use a good hostess as back-up.”
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.“As you said, I’ve accomplished a lot.I want to work in fine dining.”
“The workplace is often different from what they tell you in school.If you have a little catering business, I would stick to that.”
Josie twisted her hands into fists under the table.Nope, not going to cry.“Can I ask why you brought me in for an interview?You’re the one who called me.”
Chef McNabb picked up another cookie, broke it in half, crumbs dropping on the table.“Ares Montague gave me your number.”
“Ares?”Josie repeated.Her thoughts came to a halt.
“Yeah, we play in the same monthly charity poker game.I mentioned that I was looking for a chef and he said I should give you a call.He’d consider it a favour.”Chef McNabb gave her a smirk.“It’s nice to think he owes me now.”
Ares.Josie bit her tongue because she didn’t want to scream, not here.She felt humiliated enough.
“It was good to see you again, Ms.Agosti.”Chef McNabb stood, extending his hand.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” Josie said.She put the lid back on her shortbread cookies.
“Do you think I can get the recipe for your shortbread?”
“I’ll email it,” Josie said, her voice wobbling.She stood from the table, turned to Chef McNabb but she couldn’t think of anything to say.She knew she’d think of all the things she could have said as soon as she left but right now, words failed her.
He waved to her, and she exited the restaurant.
Outside in the cool drizzle, she took a few deep breaths, her thoughts crowding her mind, walking as fast as she could, stopping when she caught sight of her limp in a shop’s windows.She only ever saw it when other people did and she hated that.Josie closed her eyes against the wave of anger that threatened to spill tears because she knew this wasn’t worth crying over.
She stopped, pulling her cell out of her bag.
“Did you get the job?”Her best friend, Cecilia Yen’s, high voice made her smile.
“Nope.He had concerns about how I could keep up in his kitchen.A lot of young chefs have a problem with the speed of the kitchen.He wondered if maybe I would find being a hostess more enjoyable because I have a pleasant personality.”Her voice cracked, she couldn’t keep it together.she sniffled a sob and wiped at her face.
“You should sue the fucker, go to the press.”
“No, Cecilla.He didn’t say it,” Josie said.She turned left to where she parked her car.
He wasn’t the first person to use her disability as an excuse.Her cerebral palsy affected how she walked, but it didn’t make her incompetent.
