I’m going to talk to my bosses about quittingAmateur Hour.I already know I’m not being kept on, and if there’s no need to impress people at FoF anymore, is it worth all the online abuse? I think not. Whatever happens with Benny and me behind the scenes, it’s his show now. It sounded like they were already making plans to start filming him solo, so he can just have it all.
I’ll go back to helping Margie in marketing full time for the last few weeks, if they’ll let me. I’ll fade from public memory. The trolls will have nothing to troll about anymore, and maybe they’ll start leaving Friends of Flavor alone. I won’t apologize for anything, but I also won’t continue to cause a stir, however unintentional my stirring has been thus far. It’s going to be painful in the short term, but hopefully better for everyone going forward.
Now the challenge is to be able to talk about this like a mature adult and without bursting into tears.
“I’m so appreciative of the opportunity y’all—you allhave given me, but I feel it’s time that I should step back.” Do I sound too self-important? Like I think I’m the president of Friends of Flavor?
What will I say if they ask why?The pressure’s become too much. I’m a sore loser. The internet is a terrible place to be a girl. Your CEO is a douche canoe.
Might need to keep workshopping my answer.
When I get tired of hearing myself talk, I head into the office a bit earlier than normal, deciding I should bite the bullet while I still feel the momentum. I stop by marketing first but Margie isn’t there, so I head for Aiden’s office, avoiding eye contact with the few early birds bustling around the kitchens.
As I turn down the hall to the big boss man’s office, I nearly run smack into the bigger boss man. Geoffrey Block, CEO. My, unbeknownst to him, nemesis.
“Watch out there, young lady,” he says, laying a hand on my arm. I could point out that he’s the one who was looking down at his phone, but it’d be as worthwhile as laying blame on a brick wall.
“Sorry,” I say instead.So strong, so empowered. Kill ’em, girl.
“Ah, Benjamin’s sous-chef,” he says with a nod and a knowing glint in his eye.
Exsqueezeme? My jaw feels like it comes unhinged as it falls open. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sous-chef, and lord knows, especially after last night, that I am far frombeing an actual chef. But doesn’t Mr. Important know it’s calledAmateur Hour,notProfessional Chef and His Li’l Lady Friend Hour?
Plus, Benny’s name is not Benjamin, it’sNorberto,but telling Geoffrey Block, CEO, that would probably be more of an offense to Benny than to the old man.
The CEO’s nose twitches and his gaze drifts like he’s smelling something. Probably the smoke pouring out my ears.
“Huh, someone’s making something good. But they usually are around here, right? Ha.” It’s the Ken-doll laugh again. “What’s your name again, sweetheart?”
Oh, this son of a charred-dough biscuit—
“Reese. My name is Reese,” I say curtly, hoping to end this before I combust.
He looks surprised, like he’s never heard my name before in his life. “Like the actress, huh?” He looks me up and down in a way reminiscent of the cookout, but it’s somehow ickier in the close quarters of the hallway that’s empty save the two of us. “I see it. You’re like that one movie of hers, except instead of following the guy to law school, you follow him around the kitchen, right? Ha.”
Rest in peace, my jaw. It has fallen clear off my face, not least because this man missed the entire point of theLegally Blondefilms. I’m gonna have nightmares about that fake laugh.
I feel my mouth forming shapes as if to respond, but no sounds are coming out. Which is good, because the ones I’d liketo make would be guaranteed to get me fired. After what feels like two hours but is more like five seconds of me standing there unresponsive, Geoffrey Block, CEO, lays a hand on my shoulder.
“Well, I’m out of here—meetings off-site for the day.” His hand slides all the way down my arm and gives my wrist a squeeze before he lets go and steps around me to walk away. “Good to see you, kiddo.”
I murmur a less-than-heartfelt goodbye, then continue to stand there gaping for a few moments, going over the exchange in my head.Young lady. Sous-chef. Sweetheart. Kiddo. Following the guy around the kitchen.I feel the path Geoffrey Block’s hand took from my shoulder to wrist as if it’s burned my skin. I feel his discomfiting gaze on my face, my body.
If I hadn’t run into him, I would have marched straight into Aiden’s office and carried on with my plan. Bowing out gracefully, fading into the backdrop, eventually allowing everyone to forget I was ever here.
But now I feel utterly patronized, and a tad violated. Talked to like I’m an idiot, touched as if my permission to do so is irrelevant. Good mother-loving gravy, I could spit on that man. I imagine his words and actions coming from the anonymous internet commenters, from the smug dude-bro at the UltiCon panel who was so proud of himself for outing my supposed hookup with Benny. I hear them in my head from my former classmates, from the boy who treated me so terribly a few years back and shook up my world. And it makes me want to puke.
I don’t know what to do. I don’twantto quit, but what otheroption do I really have? It might be time to accept that this is the way of the world. That I was never gonna win this summer. That even with a guy like Benny in my corner, I still only have myself to rely on, and once again, I’ve failed me. I’m about to take a step forward, to continue on and deal with the guilt and confusion later, when a voice stops me in my tracks.
“Why do I have a feeling you’re about to do something stupid?”
I gasp, both because I didn’t know anyone was behind me and because the person speaking is Katherine.
I turn slowly, my eyes meeting her intense gaze. Her arms are crossed and her stance is all power and self-assuredness.
“Um…I—I—” I start. Then, because I guess that’s just how this day is gonna go, my chin wobbles and my eyes well up. In a matter of seconds, tears are pouring down my face.
In the hallway.
