Page 26 of The Chef

Why did I even accept this job in the first place?

Because I need the money, duh.

I really do need the money.

I hesitantly walk towards the kitchen, the words of Cliff’s blonde cousin echoing in my mind.

Don’t let him get to you.

Oh, I won’t.

But this was my mistake. I screwed up here, but I won’t back down from a fight with Cliff if he’s so pissed at me.

I open the doors of the kitchen, the smell of cooking food wafting over me, and storm towards Cliff. He’s standing next to Dominika, his hands still full of the mistake plates. Seeing me, his face turns as red as the cooking stove.

“What on earth was that?” he asks, a spit of venom in his voice. “You’ve completely fucked up the order.”

He’s a pretty shit Gordon Ramsay.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Doesn’t matter if you meant to or not, you still did it.”

“Yeah, I made a mistake, but it’s my first day. Cut me some slack. I can go out there and apologize and tell them it was my fault if you want.”

Cliff closes his eyes like he’s trying to hold himself back. “You know how much you’ve embarrassed me today?” he asks rhetorically in a quiet, slow voice full of threat. “You know how much you’ve humiliated me in front of my own family? This is who you are, Bay. You threw water over me in public and now you’ve humiliated me in front of my cousins. It’s the end of the line for you.”

Dominika steps in front of the man. “Listen to her, Cliff. It’s her first day. If she did anything wrong, it’s the mistake of the teacher, not the student.”

“You hired her, and now she’s screwed up. Can you see why I was against all of this?”

“It’s her first day, so I guess she screwed up because of her teacher.” Dominika raises an eyebrow at Cliff. “And who was her teacher?”

Cliff grunts in response and storms past me and out of the kitchen. He points back at me and shouts back before the kitchen doors close. “You need to work this out, Bay, or you’re fired, you get me?”

The door slams close and it’s like wind’s been knocked out of me with Cliff’s sudden departure. I lose my balance and stumble to the kitchen counter, grasping it with both hands to steady myself. Dominika strolls to me and places her hand reassuringly on my shoulder.

“Don’t worry about the dickhead,” she says.

“How can I not when he shouts at me like that?”

“Back in my hometown in Poland, we have a saying. Drink and forget the bastard. It’s more about dealing with your ex-boyfriend, but I think it’s pretty applicable in these circumstances.”

Dominika leans down below the counter and I tilt my head to see what she’s doing. She reemerges a moment later holding a bottle of white wine.

I gasp at her sneakiness. “Where did that come from?” I ask.

She raises a finger to her lips and hushes me.

“Keep this as our little secret, just between us,” she says. “This is a way I get through a shift when Cliff’s being a little dick.”

She offers me the bottle, nodding to me to drink it. I do so. The wine is nice. Strong. Refreshing.

I guess it’s a good idea to keep a secret stash when you have to work with Cliff.

“Good, huh?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “It’s very good. Thanks.”