For the first time all night, the kitchen goes silent. The entire staff turn their heads to gape at us, including Hannah, whose wide-open mouth bears a striking resemblance to our signature branzino. Her eyes ping-pong back and forth between us as she tries to puzzle out the connection.
Jake rocks back on his heels as he tugs a hand through his already tousled hair. “Sorry, I hope this is all right. I thought it would be fun to stop by and see where you work. Since you got to spend yesterday at the studio with me and all.”
“Uh, sure. I just wish you would have let me know in advance. We’re a little busy right now,” I reply, doing my best to keep my voice controlled.What the hell is he thinking, showing up here in the middle of service?Twenty-four hours ago, he was stressing about the paparazzi seeing us together, and now he’s casually announcing our relationship to every one of my colleagues?
Oren, who has recovered himself, reaches out a hand toward Jake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Taylor,” he says. “I’m Oren, the sous chef. Huge fan of your music. We are so honored that you chose to dine here at Olive & Pomegranate. This is Amir Hussein, our head chef.” He gestures toward Chef, who stares back stoically for a moment before returning to his meal preparations.
Oren shifts as he clears his throat. “Anyway, I hope your dining experience was to your satisfaction.”
“Everything was great, really. Who do I have to thank for the delicious apple tart?”
And just like that, I know exactly what he’s doing here.
Oren, still oblivious, beams as he claps Ethan on the back.
“That would be the work of this guy right here! Best pastry chef in the city.” Jake extends a hand to Ethan, who stares at him for a long minute before shaking it begrudgingly.
Jake returns his attention to me, his triumphant smile faltering slightly as I glare at him.
“Well, I guess I’ll just see you at home?” he offers. A hot flash of annoyance sparks through me; did he really just announce to my entire team that we’re shacking up together? Is he for real right now? Too angry to speak, I simply nod, biting the inside of my cheek as I pretend not to feel the weight of a dozen sets of eyes boring into me.
After Jake and Hannah disappear through the kitchen doors, I turn back to the sauce I was prepping, only to notice a thin film has now developed on the top.Terrific. I’ve just grabbed a fresh spoon to stir it when Ethan materializes at my elbow.
“So. You neglected to mention that the ex-boyfriend who suddenly reappeared in your life is Jake Taylor,” he says tightly. “And that he’slivingwith you.” I turn my head to meet his aquamarine eyes. They’re narrowed to slits and full of hurt.
“Well… it’s not the sort of thing that really comes up in conversation.” I offer him a conciliatory smile, which he does not return.
“Yeah, well, I think you should have tried a little harder.” Before I can say another word, he turns on his heels and shuffles away. My heart sinks in my chest.Great.
The moment he’s out of earshot, Mia comes up behind me, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Nowthat’swhat I’m talking about,” she whispers. “I haven’t had this much fun at work since Hannah yakked on Corbin’s shoes during last year’s Christmas party.”
Finally, it’s closing time. Mia and I set to work labeling our leftovermiseand packing it into Cambros. The rest of the staff is busy with cleanup; the lemony scent of dish detergent wafts through the air as stations are doused with soapy water.
After I finish tidying my station, I quickly change out of my uniform. I’m just about to exit through the service doors, secretlythankful no one besides Ethan has mentioned going to Freddie’s, when Chef’s voice rings out from his office.
“Lexi? A word?”
Rounding the corner, I poke my head through the doorway. Chef is seated at his desk, a pile of inventory sheets in front of him. He gestures for me to come in and I step through the door tentatively. Chef never addresses me personally; our interactions are generally restricted to conversations about kitchen prep and food orders. A rush of panic bubbles in my chest.
Chef looks up from his desk. His dark eyes regard me carefully over a pair of reading glasses.
“As a policy, we don’t invite our friends into the kitchen,” he says slowly.
“Yes, I know that, and I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was coming.”
Chef’s mouth straightens into a hard line. “Yes, well… I think it would be best to make these expectations clear to your friends from now on.”
I bob my head, swallowing back the hot, humiliating tears that have begun to threaten. If I had known Jake was going to show up here, I would have made plenty of things clear to him.
“Absolutely, sir. It won’t happen again.”
Chef gives me a quick nod, satisfied. “Nice work today.”
“Thanks, Chef.”
