Page 54 of The Seven Year Slip

“Oh, yes! I didn’t tell you?” When I shook my head, he gave an apologetic smile. “You should come by sometime. I’ll wash your plates really well.”

“I amflattered, Iwan.”

He grinned, swirled his noodles around his chopsticks, and ate another bite. “The head chef ismagnificent. He knows exactly how to pull the best out of all of his cooks. He runs a tight ship, but I’m looking forward to it,” he said, almost reverently, and then he scrunched his nose. “Well, mostly.”

I quirked an eyebrow.

“So, there’s this line cook position opening up, and I want to apply for it but...”

“But what? Do it! Apartments around here are stupidly expensive.”

“I know, but I just got hired, so I’m not sure Ishould. I haven’tearned it, really, and there’s this other guy applying for it, anyway. He preps vegetables. Everyone thinks he’s going to get it.”

“Which is why,” I guessed, “you’re not even going to try for it.”

“I’m not sure if I should? What if I’m not good enough? What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Chef? I’ve lucked into this chance to study under my granddad’s idol. Grandpa never got formal training, and I want this more than anything. I want to make him proud, you know? And I don’t know if—”

I reached over and put my hand on top of his. It startled him into silence, and he looked down at my hand, and then back up to me. I rubbed my thumb gently against his skin. “James Iwan Ashton,” I said gently, “you are talented and you are tireless, and you deserve that spot just as much as anyone else.”

“I haven’t paid my dues—”

“And who decides on what dues you need to pay? If you want something, you have to go for it. No one else will be more on your side than you.”

He hesitated.

I curled my fingers around his hand, and held it tightly. “Be merciless about your dreams, Iwan.”

He shifted his hand and instead laced our fingers together, his dried and cracked, and mine soft and pale. “Okay,” he finally agreed, and turned those lovely gray eyes to me again. “Though I don’t think I ever told you my first name.”

“Of course you did,” I replied quickly, slipping my hand out of his. I returned to my food. “Remember? The first night.” I tapped the side of my head. “This brain’s like a steel trap.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure it is.” He tilted his head, debating for a moment. “Did I ever tell you about the restaurant I want to open?”

That piqued my interest, and I sat up a little straighter. “No?”

He perked up like a dog offered a bone. “I haven’t? Okay,okay—picture it: long family-style tables. The walls are red. Everything is comfy, the leather on the chairs broken in. I’d get a local artist to design the chandeliers, hire all my favorite people, put your art on the walls,” he added with a wink. “It’ll be a place where you feel a bit at home, you know?”

I thought about the dishes in the cookbook he pitched—the noodles on dry ice, the dumplings that needed a commercial steamer, the chili sauce recipe that required rare African Orange Bird peppers—and I couldn’t imagine it.

“It sounds like somewhere I’d eat, and I hate eating out at restaurants,” I replied. “What would it be called?”

“I dunno. I never really had a name for it.” He grinned, slow and melty like butter. “I think I got a few years to figure it out.”

Seven, to be exact.

He finished the rest of his wine as I set down my chopsticks, because while there was a little bit left, I couldn’t finish it. He motioned to the bowl, and I said, “Oh, yes, please have it.”

“I’m nothing if not a gastronomic black hole,” he replied, putting my bowl on top of his.

I grabbed my wine and sat back as he finished my noodles. There was an idea slowly forming in my head. “So, I have a scenario for you.”

“Go on,” he said, his mouth full.

“There’s this author, right? At work.” I tried to keep it as anonymous as possible. “My friend and I are in this auction—all of the bidders were supposedly going to make it to the next round, but... he just turned us down.”

His eyebrows jerked up. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. And it’s frustrating because Iknowhe’d be amazing with my friend.” I chewed on my thumbnail, before I realized what I was doing and quickly stopped. “What would you do?”

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