“You’re absolved.” She wiped at the edge of her mouth with her fingertips, making a mental note that she was no longer scrubbed in and would need to re-scrub in so Eli didn’t lose his mind.
“Absolved of what?” His eyebrows furrowed.
Eli didn’t seem to even notice she’d wiped her lips with her fingers. Sexy, concerned Chef Eli was someone she could get used to, especially when he fed her. He held a napkin out to her—okay, apparently, he’d noticed.
She dabbed the paper against her lips.
“For bossing me around with the almonds.” She took the fork from him, practically Hoovering the chicken. “You can boss me around all you want if I get to eat this.”
With her blood sugar stabilizing, the dizziness began to subside.
“Grab us a water,” he said to one of the other staff. A lot of the bark was missing this time.
He passed the bottle of water to her. She uncapped it, taking a long drink.
“Can I talk to you in the office?” he asked.
Shit.
“Is it ’cause I brought up the almonds?” she asked, her mouth still full.
“Mar.” He jerked his head toward the glass partitions of the small room in the back that he used as an office. “Alone?”
“It’s because I screwed them up, isn’t it?” And this is what it was like to get fired. Damn.
She grabbed the rest of the boxed chicken—if he was going to let her go, she was totally taking the chicken.
He strode to the office. She followed, still noshing on the chicken, the water bottle capped and tucked in the pocket of her black apron.Eats, the name of his catering company, embroidered on the front.
Her heels tapped against the floor.Fired. Fired. Fired, they seemed to echo.
Yes, she wore her heels because they matched the T-shirt with his logo. The one he made all of his workers wear when they were in the kitchen.
“It’s fine if it’s not working out, but I can’t eventually pay you rent if you don’t keep paying me.” Also, she couldn’t buy gas. Or coffee for Bert and his friends. Or Lothario’s special dog food. Or pretty much anything else.
Eli closed the door, which was kind of funny given that the office was totally glass and everyone could see in anyway.
“You need to take a day off. You’re working way too hard.” He sat on the edge of his desk, his hands gripping the dark wood on both sides of his thighs. He kept the office as organized as the kitchen—everything in its place at all times.
Marlee perched in the chair next to his desk, setting the box of chicken on the tabletop so she could finish. “I’m not working harder than you.”
“You almost passed out.” At least barky Eli was gone. She liked this Eli much better. Still in his sexy clothes, without the edge.
She chewed a bite. Swallowed. Studied how he’d just chucked a bunch of nuts at the plate. He was wrong. She hadn’t almost passed out. The dizzy had just gotten to her. Now that she had eaten, she’d be better. Unless he got grumpy about almonds again.
“I did not almost pass out. I just don’t get to taste the food while I work like you do.” Not that she held it against him, but she noted all those individual spoon calories and, frankly, envied them.
He pressed his palm against the back of his neck, triceps bunching through the polyester of his chef jacket. “I think you’re pushing yourself too hard. Let’s just go back. Start over.”
“So are you firing me or sending me home with pay and I come back tomorrow?” She gestured at him with the tines of the fork.
“Take tomorrow off.” He crossed his arms. “And take the rest of the day today so you can get some rest.”
“But you’re still paying me?” Look, she didn’t mean to be pushy, but her tank was on empty and she’d spent all her money on Bert’s coffee and Lothario’s vet bill to remove his cast. At least he didn’t thump around on three legs anymore.
“Yeah.” He nodded.
“Perfect.” She stood. “See? You feed me and I’m not even a little dizzy.” She did a little bounce to prove her point.
