Page 55 of A Fool's Game
“It’s going to be fine.”
“Yes, it is,” Eva agrees. “But it’s going to be hard first, and adding another dick to the mix isn’t going to makeit any easier.”
“I don’t know, you guys. I think I may have found the perfect mix of dark and light energies. You should have seen the magic we made in bed the other night.”
Eva opens her mouth to object, but Lana shoves her to the side. “Lecture over. Tell us everything.”
Chapter 19
Taylor
It’s a short, brisk walk to the college in the glowing morning light.Seth arrived before me, as usual, and the scent of fresh coffee greets me as I push through the cafeteria doors.He’s a good kid. I’m lucky to have him for as long as I do.And he’s lucky to be starting here, in a place where no one is going to tell him he’s got what it takes to open his own place. No one’s going to plant the burning seed of longing that destroys so many talented young cooks.Here, he’ll learn that work can be hard and dirty and thankless, but at the end of the day, you have the same paycheck to take home and throw at the pile of debt waiting there for you.
That’s what people like him, and myself, need. Rising star opportunities are for the upper class. The class whose family can float them if things go wrong, or if it takes a year or more to turn any kind of profit.
Not for people whose families are the ones drowning.
“Morning, Seth.”
“Morning, Chef,” he calls back. “Chowder day.”
It’s a familiar greeting, and I smile at the predictability of itall. Sure, it was a bit of a transition going from daily chalkboard menus to standardized weekly soup schedules, but I’m starting to see the benefit of it. The way the routine works its magic on me.
I don’t need the thrill of creativity and passion.
I can get my thrills elsewhere. Work is where you come to get paid.
The morning passes quickly in my office, half-eaten omelet discarded on a pile of invoices, and I’m surprised when a knock at my door produces none other than Ainsley.I narrow my eyes at him and then glance down at the clock on my laptop. “Damn, is it noon already?”
The quarter started today, relegating his hours to four a day, after noon. I generally wouldn’t care when a volunteer like him showed up, but of course, he’s different.
“Miss me?” he answers, the smart-ass.
I huff in response and try not to shift in my seat as the tension of the moment gets the better of me.I knew it would be weird at work, but I told myself I could handle it.
Hell, I didn’t even fuck the guy. What is there to be awkward about?
“You’re in the dish pit,” I say, looking back down at my computer, hoping he gets the hint and leaves.
Surprise of the century—he doesn’t.
“You should give Seth a promotion.”
I glance up to find him standing right up against my desk, facing me with both hands planted on piles of papers. I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “Oh, really?”
I’ll be goddamned if this little shit is going to tell me how to do my job.
“Yeah. He needs Saturdays off so he can join a baseball team. And he told me only prep cooks can ask for Saturdaysoff.”
It takes every ounce of my strength not to let the blow show on my face.
“He’ll move up when he’s ready,” I say, feeling a bolster of confidence when my voice comes out strong and steady.
“You don’t think he’s ready now?”
I’m upset that one of my employees, especially a younger, more vulnerable one like Seth, felt like he couldn’t come to me with a schedule request like that.I’m worried about what else could be going on that I don’t know about. I’m worried I’ve been too distracted with all this Gem stuff, with my family stuff…with whatever. I need to be focused on giving the employees here the best workplace I can.
I’m worried I might be failing and didn’t even realize it.
