Page 54 of Changing Tides
She saw the way Joey looked at her when they thought she wasn’t aware. She was sure they hadn’t found it any easier to stay apart than she had. Why were they torturing themselves? Yes, she needed to sort her life out, but she hadn’t felt this kind of hunger for so long. It didn’t hurt when she saw the adoration in Joey’s eyes, either. She needed the affirmation she was still attractive. Maybe more importantly, that she was a nice enough person that someone so wonderful would want to spend time with her. Joey made her feel better about herself, and who didn’t want that?
The cold pain of the sharp knife nicking her finger brought her back to reality and she swore.
“Everything okay, Chef?” Connor turned from his station.
“Yes, all good.” She couldn’t continue to bleed on the dish, but she didn’t want her sous chef to see she’d been so careless. “Ivan, can you just finish up here for me?”
A commis chef ran over, eager because she’d selected him, and she left him to finish the dish while she slipped off to her office and the first aid kit she kept in her drawer.
She sucked her finger, the metallic taste grounding her, and she pushed her office door open and sank into her chair. The kitchen could do without her for ten minutes. She wanted to hear what Imelda had to say.
She dialed the saved number while wrapping her finger in a dressing.
“Imelda Hogan.” The abrupt, clipped tones of her agent warmed her with familiarity.
She waited, knowing Imelda would acknowledge her first.
“How are you, Marianne?”
“All good here, Imelda. You were calling me?”
“I was. It’s been a while and I wondered when you’re planning to come home.”
Home? To a cold city that hadn’t mourned her loss. Full of people she’d considered friends until she was no longer any use to them.
“Back to Dublin, you mean? I don’t have firm plans yet. Why?” She was being a little cool with someone who potentially held her future in their hands.
“Marianne, I’ve missed you. I know we didn’t see eye to eye over your career move, but we stayed in touch. You went completely off the radar this summer. I called so many times.” Imelda sounded genuinely upset.
“You know what happened. I was struggling to process it all, so I cut myself off for a while.”
“On a literal desert island.”
“It’s hardly that.” She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, okay? It was my way of coping. I’m getting back into the swing of things now. I won’t be a castaway forever.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Imelda’s tone grew more animated. “Because your reels are getting so much attention. We need to think about how to maximize your gains from that.”
“I’m enjoying being back in front of the lens. I think I’d like to do more of that.” She’d always loved—lived—to cook, but the thought of going back to run the kind of kitchen she had before Batiya really didn’t appeal just yet.
“Do you mean like the career you were developing before you ran away to the seaside?”
Marianne wasn’t really feeling like justifying herself to someone she paid to maximize her opportunities, but she needed to humor Imelda if she wanted the best service.
“Okay, I admit it, your advice was spot on four years ago. But I was in love and thought it would all work out perfectly.” She cleared her throat. “I need to put it behind me and move on, Imelda. Will you help me?”
“Oh, yes, it’s what I do.” Imelda spent the next twenty minutes talking her through how she should make the best of the last few weeks of her summer contract. Marianne was relieved she hadn’t suggested trying to get out of the Waterside contract. She really didn’t want to cause problems for Tierney and Kasia.
She tried to outline the sort of work she would be keen to do. They didn’t discuss locations; it went without saying she’d move wherever she had to for the work she wanted.
When she hung up, Marianne felt a strange mix of elation that she might soon be getting back in the spotlight, and sadness that this perfect little slice of life would be behind her.
In an attempt to focus on the future, she dialed a number she’d been avoiding for far too long.
“Good afternoon, Mother. I’m sorry it’s been a while.”
“Marianne. Why have you been avoiding my calls? The only contact I’ve had from you is one postcard from some godforsaken island.”
Call singular. And that had been too soon after their conversation when Batiya closed. She just hadn’t been able to face any more insensitivity from the one person who should have had her back.
