“She sounds like a special person.”
“She was. She died, way too soon.”
“I’m so sorry.” She reached out to touch me, but I couldn’t and pulled away.
“I’m sorry. It’s not you. I’m not used to talking about it.” Even Presley didn’t know how much she meant to me.
“I won’t push you. But I want to say this before I go.” She pushed away from the island and circled around to the sink, where she placed her mug. “You don’t want to admit it to me, and that’s okay, but at least admit to yourself that you’re struggling. I don’t know why or with what. But I can see you care about Torre, and he cares about you. You might not think you believe in love because of what happened when you were young, but don’t shut yourself away from accepting it if it’s right in front of you. Recognize yourself in someone else’s eyes, and you might see a whole new you. Someone who is loved and can love in return. Be willing to tell them who you are and what’s in your heart.”
She surprised me by giving me a kiss on the cheek and then leaving without waiting for a response. I turned back to making the pasta and preparing the sauces I’d use later; all the while, her words ran through my mind like a litany.
“You’ll see a whole new you…”
By noon, everything was in place for dinner, and feeling lazy and indulgent, I stretched out on the couch to watch some television. I switched on the set and found the cooking channel. All these chefs whose restaurants I’d reviewed had their own shows, and in my opinion, most didn’t deserve the accolades. When they first came on the scene, their ideas were interesting and innovative, but soon they fell into a step above mediocrity. I understood now why Torre thought I was a snob. A restaurant like Mike’s, and so many others, never got a chance with all the hype surrounding the chosen few.
It had once been my dream.
I grabbed my phone and scribbled some notes.
A key turned in the lock, and Torre walked through the door. Dejection radiated from his eyes.
The show and my thoughts forgotten, I jumped up. “What’s wrong? Why’re you home in the middle of the day?”
He tossed his keys on the island, sending them skittering to the floor, but he made no move to pick them up. “I should’ve known it was all too good to be true. I was an idiot.”
The look in his eyes spelled trouble. I took him around by the shoulders and led him to the couch. “Tell me.”
“It was a sham, the whole thing. Webster wanted my blog so he could show how progressive his magazine is, but in the end, I’d be buried deep inside, with no first-page caption or any way for people to know I’m there. My name might be on the masthead, but my work would be deep-sixed. Plus, he gave me a list of places he wanted me to review, none of which need any more fame, as they’re already well-known, higher-priced restaurants. People who read my blog aren’t looking for that.”
My anger grew at how they’d used him, and I pulled him close. “Why did he do it, do you think? One thing I’ve learned is that Webster has a reason for everything.”
“Oh yeah, he sure does.” Torre laughed bitterly. “He wants to run for public office, so he’s playing both sides—kissing up to the wealthy who can donate, while pretending to care about the rest of us.” His big brown eyes gazed up at me. “And it cost you your job as well.”
“Fuck that. It never mattered to me. The only good thing my father ever did was invest in art. When he died, I sold off most of it, plus one of his homes in Italy, invested the proceeds, and never had to worry about money again.”
“So you’re rich.”
“Filthy,” I said cheerfully. “I had always hoped to tell Webster to take his job and shove it, but he beat me to it.”
“I wish I could,” Torre said gloomily. “I wish I could walk and not go back.”
“Maybe you can. Let’s see your contract.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Just do as Daddy Frisco says. I’ll make you feel good.”
Torre snorted. “You’re nuts, but okay. I have the papers in the bedroom.”
He disappeared and returned in a minute with an envelope, from which he withdrew the signed contract. “Here, but I don’t know what you’re looking for.”
“But I do, so shush.”
I skimmed over the beginning and headed to the end where the lawyers liked to bury all the legalese mumbo-jumbo most people didn’t bother to read. I did, though, and jabbed my finger at the part I’d hoped to find.
“Aha! There. Look. ‘Within thirty days of the signing of this contract, if either party decides to withdraw, then this contract will become null and void. Both parties agree to return the other to the position they were in prior to the contract being signed.’”
“What? Let me see.”
