“No,” I weep. “It’s really not okay! Because I’ve also been lying to you! But mine wasn’t a kindness like yours.”
His hand stills for a beat, then resumes. “Okay . . . tell me what you lied about.”
“I shouldn’t . . . oh god, James, I shouldn’t have graduated culinary school.”
“What does that mean?” His voice is so soft compared to my frantic storm.
I tear away from him and pace forward, then back, digging my hands into my hair, desperate to claw out of my skin.
“It means that in usual Madison Walker fashion, the only reason I graduated is because I cleaned the lab after class for a semester. It was the extra credit that bumped my grade up just enough to pass. I didn’t deserve it!”
I’m yelling. I’m crying. I’m spinning out like a wildfire hit with strong wind.
“Chef Davis knew it. I knew it. My professors all knew it. And I was too ashamed to tell anyone that I had once again failed at something, so instead I let you hire me thinking I deserved to be here.” I clutch my chest like I could scoop out my shameful, aching heart.
When I look at him, I expect disgust. Hurt. Betrayal.
Instead, his face is impossibly soft, a crooked smile touching his mouth.
“Is that it?”
I shift on my feet. “What do you—Yes . . . that’s it. And it’s a bigit! You should be upset, James!”
“I’m not. I don’t care about any of that.”
I drop to my knees and scrape my hands over my face, groaning into them.
“I am not the person for this job. Why can’t you see that?!”
He follows me to the ground, kneeling in front of me.
“Because I do see you.” His voice is low and clear. “What you heard tonight changes nothing. Don’t let Tommy’s ignorance steal your strength. You are not overly emotional; you feel deeply. You are not a culinary school failure; you are a resilient woman who didn’t give up during the hardest of times. You’re not inexperienced; you’re just getting started. And shit, Madison, look at what you’ve accomplished already! The menu, the theme, the heart of the restaurant—it’s allso good.And I’m more convinced now than ever thatyouare the reason this restaurant will thrive. With anyone else, it would have been a risk. But with your heart in it? It’s going to be so good.”
His voice softens, cracking with emotion. “I’m begging you to believe in yourself.”
I want to. I want to grab on to the confidence I held a few hours ago. But I’m scared. I’ve never been the person people trust with anything, let aloneeverything.And it’s enough to make me wonder if James’s lie wasn’t actually a small mercy. Wrong, but still . . . a mercy. I never would have gotten this far if I’d known. I would have declined immediately.
But he’s right—Ihaveovercome so much. Accomplished so much. I get in my own way too often.
And now that I know how much is riding on me, can I still lean on this new confidence and believe it’s enough?
“This is lunacy, James!” Desperation runs through my voice. “Lunacy!You made an entire restaurant because of me! That is too much to do for one person’s happiness.”
But then a soul-curling smile spreads across James’s mouth and he cups my jaw.
“I don’t think you understand just how much I’d be willing to do to make you happy, Madison.” He thumbs away a tear. “When you called and gave me a chance that night, I decided that if having you as a friend was all I’d ever get, it would still be one of the greatest things to ever happen to me. Because, Madison, you are so”—his eyes drop to my mouth—“compelling. Wild. Inspiring. Adorable. I have wanted this—you—for a long time.”
A while.
Ruth’s secret in the kitchen rings in my ears.
“Yearning doesn’t skim the surface of it. For a decade, I’ve been dying inside, wanting you.”
I’m silent. Fresh, unshed tears pool in my eyes.
“You never asked me why Jeanine and I didn’t work out,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing my cheek. “It’s because I was in love with someone else. Someone I’ve tried to shake from my heart for so long, because I never saw a chance she’d feel the same way. But it didn’t matter. She was all I could think about. All I wanted. And that’s when I realized—you were it for me, Madison. My heart was yours, even if yours was never mine.”
My breath catches. The wind around us stills. And suddenly every moment—every glance, every soft silence between us—rewrites itself.
