Part 7 (1/2)
”You probably miss that smell,” Avery said to me. He pulled me into a side hug and held me long enough for me to notice a different kind of cologne. Expensive-smelling, and the kind that you couldn't get at the mall. ”I could bring a little Calvin K back, you know.”
I laughed, surprised to be genuinely enjoying this rush of memories. ”You probably wanted to smell like anything other than a culinary student who spent insane amounts of time with spices and oils and raw meat. And that was just the first cla.s.s of the day.”
Avery c.o.c.ked his head to one side. ”Charlie was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.”
I groaned and he looked surprised, maybe hurt.
”It's true. You had this great smile and eyes that were sometimes green, sometimes blue, depending on how tired you were and what you were wearing.” He became animated. ”And she was a beast in the kitchen. She outscored everyone on every test, not just pastry. She was so intense, I was terrified of her. So,” he grinned at me, ”I decided the only way to conquer my fear of her was to ask her out.”
I watched his face.
”She said yes,” he said by way of finis.h.i.+ng his story.
I turned my body to face him. ”You never told me you were intimidated by me.”
He shrugged slightly, eyes still on me. ”I suppose there are a few things I've never mentioned.”
Vic spoke from behind the camera. ”Perfect.” He motioned for the cameraman to stop filming and let a silence fall. His gaze rested on Margot, who was watching the little screen on a device the camera guy held out for her.
Finally she spoke. ”She's the one.”
Avery let out a cheer that could have originated in the prehistoric era, and Vic clapped his hands, once and loudly.
I felt my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. ”I'm the one?” Then, my voice lowered, I leaned into Avery. ”Am I still rolling with it?”
He shook his head and then turned to Vic, Margot, and the Mullet Man. ”Can we have a moment?”
The three of them left the room, leaving Avery and me alone under the harsh glare of the lights. He moved his chair so that we faced each other.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ”Charlie, I didn't bring you out here just to be my pastry chef.”
”You didn't.” I said it as a declarative fact, wondering where in the world this conversation was going.
”I brought you out here because I knew you'd be perfect. You're beautiful, you're smart, you know how to express yourself, and you're a great chef.” His mouth turned slightly upward into what looked like self-congratulation. ”I totally called it.”
”More info, please.” I could feel my heart starting to pound, my 'Roll With It' threshold officially surpa.s.sed.
”Right.” Avery leaned forward and balanced his elbows on his knees. He reached forward to grasp my hands in his. ”Next week, we are going to start filming a show right here at Thrill. And you, my dear, are going to be my much-searched-for female costar.”
The pistons in my brain began to fire away. ”Wait. What? A TV show? Here?”
Avery stood, his excitement building. ”I know! It's unbelievable! I met Vic at a Food in the Media networking event in L.A. about a year ago, and he's been agenting for me ever since. I had no idea he would make it happen so fast, but once he convinced Margot to take a look, things really steamrolled. We did have a few b.u.mps with the pilot and finding the right costar, but now that you're here-”
”Whoa. So you knew all along that you wanted me to be on a TV show and not just revamp your menu?” The wrinkles in my forehead were beginning to hurt.
”Yes. Sorry I couldn't tell you the whole story,” he said, coming to sit by me again. ”But I thought you might not come. I remembered how much you hated TV, and I thought I couldn't chance it without you setting up shop here first.”
I narrowed my eyes. ”You lied to me.”
Avery bounced one leg up and down, up and down. ”I know. And I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”
”You got me to move,” I said, my voice rising in pitch and volume, ”leave everything behind, including the restaurant capital of the country, and all of this under false pretences?”
”I'm sorry you didn't know the whole story right away,” he said hurriedly. ”But just think for a second. You do like it here. Right?”
I shoved my chair back with surprising force and stood up. ”You lied to me,” I said again and left the room, letting the door swing hard into the wall. One glance at Margot and Vic told me I was the only one who had been unprepared for our little meeting. I hurried down the hall, ignoring Avery's pleas as I walked back to my work, back to the reason I was there. I rounded the corner of the pastry kitchen and shook my head at Tova's inquisitive gaze. I'd wasted enough time in mindless banter for one s.h.i.+ft.
I'm sure it killed him, but Avery had the decency to wait eight full hours before his text barrage began. I puttered around my apartment feeling like a kept woman and trying to ignore the ping of each incoming text. When the pings became so frequent they sounded like a video game from the eighties, I sighed and flopped angrily on the huge couch Avery was paying for. There were twenty-eight unread messages.
8:02 a.m. How much do you hate me?
8:02 a.m. Too pa.s.sive-aggressive? Sorry. Try again. You have every right to hate me. Honestly. No pun intended!
8:05 a.m. I'm sorry.
8:06 a.m. I just want you to know I'm sorry. I really wanted you to like it here before I told you everything but now I see I was wrong. I'm sorry.
9:00 a.m. I'm trying to give you s.p.a.ce. But any time you want to talk, I'm here.
9:01 a.m. Not really good at giving s.p.a.ce. Listen, you should absolutely know that you are the only and first choice. Well, not the first, but the first girl totally BIT on camera, which I could have predicted but Margot wanted to give her a shot because she knows the girl's dad. She was horrible, this girl. None of the spice, flair, humor, beauty that you have.
10:24 a.m. I wasn't even piling on the b.s. with those last compliments. In fact, I'll raise you those compliments and tell you that you also look HOT on camera. I've been watching the footage from last night for the last two hours and while that shows how pathetic my life really is, I hope it also proves to you that I am IN THIS. I want and need for this to WORK. YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE FOR THIS JOB.
10:30 a.m. Am I coming on too strong? Do you want me to just let you think?
10:35 a.m. Can you think a little faster?
10:39 a.m. OK. Think about this: Your own pastry kitchen FOR REAL as soon as we're done shooting the season. In fact, your own pastry kitchen TODAY, just as it has been, only with a few extra people and cameras and mics peeking at your work.
10:40 a.m. And think about this: The publicity. Good publicity is good publicity, Charlie. And good publicity turns into good reviews, higher volume, more opportunities.
10:42 a.m. Don't TELL me you aren't thinking what I'm thinking. Cookbooks with your name and face on the cover. Speaking gigs that pay for that house on the beach you've always wanted. YOUR OWN PRODUCT LINE.
10:50 a.m. All you have to do is say yes.
I stared at the phone, not bothering to scroll down through the rest of Avery's messages. I was fairly confident I had the gist of his argument.
The clock on the living room wall ticked toward noon. Typically, I would be arriving at work, taking inventory, discussing the menu with Avery or Chet, trying to keep Tova from destroying anything. I flung my legs off the side of the couch and stood, stretching kinks out of my neck and shoulders.
Pacing from one length of the room to the other, I tried to clear my head. Be reasonable, I told myself, walking a straight line along the wall of windows. Think this thing through. I thought of the beautiful kitchen at Thrill, the easy camaraderie of the staff, the willingness of Tova to listen to everything I said. I thought of the early accolades. I thought of my new digs and how quickly I'd become smitten with Seattle. I stopped pacing, taking in the view of the mountains and the Sound from my window. I thought about my career, what I'd achieved and what remained on my long list of what I wanted to do as a chef.
I thought of Manda, Jack, and the kids, our breakfast at Howie's.
I thought of Kai. I thought about how I liked thinking about Kai.
I said one naughty word and then jogged to my bedroom for a change of clothes and my bag. I could still make it in time for the first seating.