“You’re letting your fear of fucking it up get in the way,” Daisy presses me. “You need to tell Brody you’re taking the job, then go tell your manager that you’re done.”
“I doubt she’ll even hear me,” I mumble, more to myself than Daisy.
“Do it, Georgia. Do it for yourself. You deserve this, girl. Clearly, Brody agrees.”
“Or he just really needs a chef.”
“Maybe? But who even cares?” Daisy giggles. “You’re going to be the chef on a crazy luxurious yacht cruise. That looks phenomenal on your resume. Just think what you could do with that. Especially with Brody Wilder as a reference.”
She’s right. Just that fact alone, without the money, makes it worth it.I know he has pull in the city, and probably beyond it as well.
“Okay,” I breathe out the word, my voice shaking slightly with excitement. “Then I need to call him before my break is over. I only have two days before the boatleaves.”
“Then get to it!” She hangs up before I can respond.
I pull the phone away from my ear and see a text from Brody.
Brody: Hey, I know I sound desperate. That’s because I am.
I laugh at the message, my stomach fluttering like it’s full of butterflies on speed. I hit the call option beside the message, listening as it starts to ring.
I got this. Just be professional.
“Hey,” Brody answers, his voice bright. “I take it I’ve bugged you enough for you to respond?”
“Something like that,” I snort, but then straighten myself up. “I just had a couple of questions. Well, one, really. What kind of food am I supposed to make for this trip? I haven’t cooked for anyone other than myself in a while, and you’re offering alot…” I wince, realizing I don’t sound professional at all—I’m basically making myself seem unqualified.
Maybe I’ll just end up staying right here at Macy’s.
Brody chuckles, his deep voice rattling something in my chest. “Actually, the whole kitchen is already stocked and ready to go. We’re not a big crowd and tend to be pretty practical. I have a bunch of recipes the chef was going to use.”
“Okay,” I sigh in relief. “I can totally do that.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you can.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. “Does this mean you’re in? Because at this point, if you turn me down, I’m making everyone peanut butter and jelly sandwiches three times a day.”
I giggle, unable to hold it in. “Um, well, if that’s what I’m up against, then I’m definitely in.”
“Good, because I’d much rather have you in the kitchen than me,” he teases. “We leave in two days, so how about I pick you up on Sunday at four? We’re setting out that evening.”
I nod, my hands already sweating with nerves. “Okay, yeah. That works.”
“Fantastic, I’ll see you then.”
“See you,” I say, just as the line clicks. I drop the phone to my lap for a few moments, and then realize I totallydidn’teven ask what I should pack.
Oh my god.I consider picking my phone back up to call and ask when the break room door swings open. In walks Rhonda, who I assume is going on her own break.
“Miss Blake?”
Uh oh.I hurriedly stand to my feet. “Yes?”
“Your break was over nearly ten minutes ago,” she snaps. “Why are you not back out on the floor yet?”
“I had to take a really important phone call,” I say quickly. “I’m so sorry, but… actually, I need to talk to you about my schedule?—”
“Your schedule is emailed to you, just like always.”
“I understand that, but?—”
