Page 17 of Mistaken Impression

“Not to me, it’s not.”

What’s he talking about? Have I given him the wrong document? Is there something more complicated to come later in the season? I hope so…

I hold out my hand and he gives it back to me, waiting while I read it for myself…

‘My boyfriend has invited his parents for dinner, and his dad’s favorite dish is roast lamb. I’ve never cooked a roast dinner before, and I’m terrified I won’t be able to get everything ready at the same time. I’m desperate to make a good impression… please help!’

I look up at him again, tilting my head to one side as I put down the piece of paper. “Are you seriously saying you couldn’t prepare a roast dinner and get all the components ready at the same time?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No. I’m saying I couldn’t get any kind of dinner ready.”

“Why on earth not?”

“Probably because I can’t cook,” he says, still smiling.

I take a half step back, unable to help myself. “Y—You can’t cook?”

“No.”

“But you’re a chef.”

“No, I’m not. I’m an actor.”

***

Mac

Her expression is priceless. It’s a cross between blank bewilderment and building anger. She struggles, one emotion fighting it out with the other, until, in the end, anger wins.

“W—What do you mean, you’re an actor?” She stammers over her words, pushing her fingers back through her hair, and while I try to focus on what she’s saying, it just got seriously complicated. She looked amazing before, but now she’s messed up her hair a little more, she looks insanely hot, and it’s taking all my willpower not to walk around the island unit, grab hold of her, and kiss her. That’s not something I’d normally do, but she’s distracting the hell out of me. “Well?” she says and I realise she’s waiting for an answer, and being distracted isn’t helping.

“I’m an actor,” I say, trying to focus. “I don’t know how else to phrase that.”

“But what are you doing here?”

“Acting, I guess.” She narrows her eyes at me, but before she can yell at me for being flippant, I hold up my hands. “I don’t know any more than you do, Ella. I was hired to present a cookery show.”

“Even though you can’t cook?”

“Yes. I told Kennedy when she auditioned me. I made it very clear I wasn’t kidding, or being modest. Boiling water is a struggle for me. She said it didn’t matter, and that someone else would take care of the cooking. All I had to do was speak my lines and act out the cooking part.” I smile at her, tilting my head slightly. “I guess you’re the ‘someone else’.”

She rests her hands on the work surface, leaning over slightly and shaking her head. “I suppose I must be.” She stares at me for a moment and then looks down at the piece of paper in front of her. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” she says,although she doesn’t look up as she speaks, but steps away toward the end of the island unit. I meet her there, grabbing her arm before she can make her escape. Her skin is feather-soft, and we both seem to gasp at the same time, although she looks down at my hand, and I quickly remove it, wondering if I’ve overstepped the mark.

“Sorry… but where are you going?”

“To find out what’s going on here.”

“In that case, I think I’ll come with you. I’d quite like to know myself.”

She pauses for a second or two and then nods her head and turns, walking away. I follow – not that I was asking her permission – and we head for the door. She almost yanks it off of its hinges, and steps out into the hallway, stopping abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, and she glares up at me, although she doesn’t say a word, and I decide to keep quiet. She’s gone frosty on me again, and she glances up and down the corridor, looking left and right, before she seems to reach a decision, and marches across the hall, to Ruby’s door. She offered to help earlier, when she pointed out her office to us, but I’m not sure she anticipated Ella would barge right in there just a few minutes later. That’s exactly what she does, though, without knocking.

I’m right behind her, so I’m there to see Ruby look up from behind her desk, her eyebrows raised in surprise. The room itself is small and sterile, with just her desk, and a couple of chairs in front of it, a tall cupboard against the wall behind Ruby, and a view through the windows, across the city.

“Can I help?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” Ella stands in front of her and takes a breath, like she needs to compose herself.

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