Page 50 of The Chef

Bay can really cook.

“What do you think?” she asks, nervous.

Great, now I have to admit that she’s actually a natural at this.

“Yeah. Good.” I grunt back at her, and Bay’s eyes light up. She knows what I think, and now she’s over the moon with joy. And smugness.

“See, what did I tell you?”

“Yeah, I’ll give you this. You can cook, Bay Dover.”

She smiles at me and sways back and forth on her heels. “See?”

I take another bite of the steak. I can’t resist it, the food is just that good.

“I see it, just don’t go rubbing it in my face.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replies. “So, will you hire me as a chef, then?”

“What?”

“Hire me as a chef, now that you can taste how good I am.”

“I’m not looking for a chef.”

“I know there’s been a recent vacancy in the position, and I also know I don’t have many contenders for the job.”

“You’re cheeky,” I reply.

But she’s right.

She is good.

And I need a chef. I really can’t do this on my own.

Bay looks up at me expectedly. “So?”

“Sure,” I mutter.

“And that means a pay rise?”

Oh.

“Now you’re really getting cheeky.”

“I can’t spend all my time here, making up a new menu, on just my waitressing rates.”

“So you want a pay rise?”

“Yep.”

I sigh. “Alright.”

“Perfect.” She raises her eyebrows.

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Dover.”

“That I do. But you need me.”