“Will do. And don’t forget to breathe.”
“Already forgot,” she says happily. “See you later!”
I give her a salute and head off in the opposite direction, feeling alive and inspired and on fire for the first time in a long time. Yes, I was a coward by not submitting my play to the contest, but now I can apply Ellie’s insights and try again next year, if need be, when my work is even stronger. I’m vibrating with the new hope that everything is going to work. My play is going to work. My new job is going to work. My life is going to work. I’m right where I should be—I’m surrounded by my people—and this is where I belong.
21
When four o’clock rolls around, my brain is fried and my heart’s in a flurry and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m counting down the minutes until our actors take the stage (approximately one hundred and seventy-eight minutes, give or take), which is why I need to fly through this dinner as quickly as possible. I even knock on Phillip’s door more rapidly than normal in the hopes that it will save me some time. Ollie seems to be feeding off my energy and is noticeably jumpier than usual as we stand in the hall.
Phillip opens the door with rosy cheeks and with an apron on. He’s smiling, as always, and I flash a smile back at him, reminding myself that he’s trying to do something nice, even if it’s ill-timed.
“You made it,” he says happily.
“We made it,” I echo. “Fair warning, I can’t stay long. Tonight is opening night at the pop-up, so I’ll have to eat and run. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I figured that was the case. I can’t wait to see it.”
“Oh yeah? You’re coming tonight?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
I smile then in earnest. Phillip really has been nothing but kind since the very beginning. I’m glad to have met him, and I’m sure Juliette will be happy about our friendship despite her hopes for a romance.
“That’s great,” I tell him. “I’m excited to hear what you think.”
“I promise to give my honest opinion. And when I say honest, I mean I already wrote up my five-star review that I am going to post on every social media site in existence the second the curtain closes.”
“I’m sure Juliette will love that,” I say assuredly.
“I aim to please. So, come on in, dinner’s almost ready.” I step through the doorway and immediately take in the smell of garlic and tomato sauce. My face grows warm as the heat from the kitchen immediately hits me. “I’m making spaghetti,” he goes on to say. “I hope you like it. It was either that or a highly questionable salmon dish, and I’d never forgive myself if I sent you off to your opening with food poisoning.”
“Spaghetti is great,” I assure him. “It’s actually my favorite.”
“It’s my favorite as well.” He gives me a wink, and I clasp my hands together in front of me as I move briskly into the kitchen.
“Can I help with anything?” I ask.
“You can finish off the salad if you like.” He nudges his chin to the counter, where all the ingredients are laid out.
“I’m on it. I’m one of those people who are very ambitious when it comes to salads. Every time I go grocery shopping, I buy a ton of greens, thinking how I’m going to be super healthy and start a new chapter in my life. I promise myself I’ll start meditating and go to bed earlier, but then, five days later, my untouched lettuce has turned into seaweed and silently judges me when I toss it in the garbage.”
Phillip looks at me in a way that’s both entertained and a little bewildered. “Does that mean you don’t want the salad?”
“No, I definitely do.” I promptly pick up a washed tomato and start cutting it on the butcher board. “The salad I’m about to make is going to be shockingly crisp and good. I may not have earned any Michelin stars back in the States, but over here, I feel like I’m right on the cusp.”
“Oh, me as well. I mean, I can’t fully guarantee that this specific serving of pasta will spark interest from an investor, but I’d also be shocked if it didn’t.”
“I agree with that wholeheartedly, and I wish you every success as you go on to conquer the London restaurant scene. Once you’re famous, I can say I knew you way back when.”
“Absolutely,” he agrees jokingly, “this meal is sure to be a major highlight in your life. Though don’t be offended if I don’t remember it so well in the future. I’ll most likely be far too consumed with all my money and fame.”
“Totally understandable. If I was in your shoes, I’d forget I ever existed.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You’re a pretty memorable woman, Winnie.”
“You’re not too bad yourself, my friend.” Chopping up my last slice of tomato, I lift the cutting board and slide all the tiny pieces into the bowl of greens with the edge of the knife. “Look at that. That’s farm-to-table majesty if I’ve ever seen it.”
“I am both awed and inspired by your confidence.”
