Page 1 of Whisker Me Away

Prologue

Spencer

I stare at the email for a long moment, trying to decipher if this is some sort of joke or not. Could this be a virus or scam? I read over the words again, look up the email it came from, and double check the bottom’s tiny print. There’s no links for me to click or fishy sleeping errors.

Huh. I think this might actually be legit.

Last month, I was listening to a YouTube video while elbow deep in a stuffed chicken. I was trying out a new recipe that ended up turning out better than I thought it would. The video mentioned they were giving away a trip to one lucky subscriber and with the high of a recipe well done, I decided to give it a try. I never win shit like this but I entered anyway. What the hell, why not? The worst that’ll happen is I forget about the whole thing in a few days. Best case scenario, I take a vacation for the first time in three years!

I reread one more time, realizing this was stuck in my spam folder for a week. Surely I still have time to accept, right?

I quickly type out a response, letting them know I’d be happy to accept this giveaway. I ask them what they need from me and when this trip will be exactly. I can’t stop smiling as I send off the response. I can’t believe I actually won! I never win anything!

Past the excitement is a thread of anxiety. I’ve never been on a train trip before so I have no idea what to expect and the unknown freaks me out. What if there’s special steps I need to know about? Will I need my passport? Will I need special ID? How long are we on a train? Will I be able to shower or shit in peace?

I take a steadying breath, getting my racing heart under control. I refuse to let my anxiety take away my joy.

Tucking my phone away, I quickly get to work. After washing my hands, I dice onions, tomatoes, and peppers before getting out my beloved soup pot. I add all my veggies in, letting them simmer and soften.

I’m making a giant pot of chili today with some thick, Texas toast garlic bread. It’s hearty and warm and comforting. It seems like the perfect lunch for a gray and stormy day like today.

Before this job, I was a chef at a high end restaurant. I can’t imagine making something like a simple pot of chili at that job. I can’t help but smile as I start tossing everything in. Oh, how things have changed and in my humble opinion, they’ve changed for the better.

I’ve been at this job for four years now, cooking lunch at this private school. Instead of over-complicated plates, now I cook in bulk. There’s a different type of science to cooking big batches like this, a challenge I welcome every day.

Because I’ve been here for four years, this will be the first time I’ll watch some of the kids graduate who I’ve gotten to know since they were freshman. I have a feeling this graduation season I’ll be a mess of emotions.

When I accepted the role of personal chef at this little private school, I thought it would be for one year and then I’d find a ‘real job’ in a restaurant again. I thought I just needed a little break from the hustle and bustle of fine dining. The joke was on me because I can’t see myself leaving anytime soon. I love this job. I love cooking for these kids, watching as they grow into adults.

After adding the beans, canned tomatoes, and tomato juice to the pot, I leave it alone to simmer. Time to get the garlic bread ready to pop into the oven.

There are only 50 students at the school. These kids are all incredibly talented and wickedly smart. I know they’re going to graduate and find themselves doing great things. I’m glad I got to touch their lives, even if it was only briefly from behind the kitchen counter.

The rest of my morning goes by quickly, business as usual. One of the freshmen, Trent, comes down right before lunch to help me serve everyone their food. The freshmen are on a rotating schedule for helping me in the kitchen. One helps serve and two more will come after lunch and help me clean the kitchen.

I’m not sure if this is part of their tasks to help the school cut down on costs or if it’s to help instill responsibility in the kids. Either way, I’m glad for the help.

Once everyone has been served, I scoop myself a bowl and grab a piece of garlic bread. I take off my apron and hang it up on the hook on the wall. Sitting at the table in the corner of the kitchen, I dig in. The flavors are exactly what I wanted them to be and the crunch of the toast is a perfect contrast to the chili. It’s fucking amazing.

As I eat, I take my phone out of my pocket. I plan on scrolling through social media but before I can open the app, I remember that email from before. Opening up my emails, I see a new one there waiting for me. My stomach flutters as I see that YouTuber responded.

“Oh my gods,” I breathe out, reading over the words in haste, skimming over everything. My stomach bursts with butterflies and excitement.

Apparently my response wasn’t too late! I just have to give them my information and then they’ll book everything in my name. It’s a train trip across the country, five days in a hotel, and then a train ride back home. Everything will be paid for and all I have to do is show up with the confirmation email and my photo ID.

Somehow, this news is both nerve-wracking and exhilarating. I’ve won! I’ve won something and it’s something ridiculously fun and exciting! I can’tnotgo for it, right?

I eat my chili and immediately start planning. I’ll have to let the school know, look into everything I can expect from traveling on a train, and research the area where I’ll be staying so I know exactly what I can do in that city. I find myself smiling all afternoon while cleaning up leftover food and scrubbing the kitchen.

I’m not usually someone who likes vacations or being adventurous. I’m often too stuck in my head to actually let myself relax. I’m the worst at overthinking every little thing. But there’s something about all of this that leaves me smiling. I can’t really put my finger on it, but I have a really good feeling about this. Instead of overthinking for once in my life, I’m going to trust that instinct and trust that this vacation is going to lead to something great.

Chapter One

Cade

I readjust my beanie before swinging my backpack onto my shoulders and tugging my suitcase behind me. I’ve got my ID ready, my ticket printed and in my coat pocket, and everything ready for this vacation.

It’s still hard to believe I’ve somehow won this trip!

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