Page 97 of For Butter or Worse
“How are you feeling?” Nina asked gently.
“I could fit a boat in here.” Jasmine sighed. “I don’t own a boat. This is enormous.”
Nina laughed. “And cheap! An amazing deal for the money. But we’re just browsing spaces. So what are you nervous about?”
“I love this one too much. What if I fail? It’s going to break my heart.” Jasmine rubbed at a spot on the chrome counter. Her chin began to quiver as she fought back tears. “Look what happened to Lyon.”
Nina believed in Jasmine. From the moment they met, she knew her friend would open a restaurant. Whatever she created would feel uniquelyher, and standing out in a massive foodie city like LA was crucial. So much of Lyon’s success was because of having Jasmine in the kitchen right alongside her. Now it was her friend’s turn to shine.
Lyon closing was a gift in this regard, because no more Lyon meant that Jasmine had to find a new job. If she’d learned anything from Leo, it was that family was vitally important. And to Nina, Jasmine was more than her best friend—she was part of her family. So she was going to do everything in her power to help her family succeed.
“You won’t fail.” Nina moved to Jasmine and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, we both know you’ve always been the better cook.”
Jasmine snorted.
“I’m the worst liar, as you know, so this is an absolute truth.” Nina meant the compliment—Jasmine was a fantastic chef. “I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be, either.”
“I’m not worried.” Jasmine wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Good.”
“I’m terrified.”
Nina leveled her with a look. “You love the space. The location is perfect. Let’s just see who wants to invest after the gala tomorrow. Save the tears for when you’re working eighty-hour weeks.”
Jasmine laughed, then wiped under her eyes. She exhaled sharply as she took in the kitchen. “Okay, so everything rests on tomorrow. No pressure.”
“You’re gonna have so many offers you’ll have to wade through them.” Nina’s smile widened. She wanted this for Jasmine. Even though it would mean she wouldn’t have her best friend next to her in the kitchen, she had a feeling watching Jasmine build something for herself would be just as satisfying.
“If this all goes to shit, you better have a spot for me on the new show.”
After Leo’s Instagram post, the other unexpected thing to happen was the overflow of emails and DMs she’d gotten from female chefs. So many women had come forward to tell her about sexism they’d experienced in the industry, the same way she had. Many had left cooking altogether because of how bad the environment was for women. Over the last few months, she’d slowly been working her way through the Twitter and Instagram messages, trying to respond thoughtfully to each one. But with every story of trauma she read, it brought back memories of her own that she wanted to forget. So she had to take big mental health breaks from being online. She wanted to find a way to help the women who were messaging her, and after some brainstorming with Sophie, she’d come up with an idea on how.
She’d worked with Tom on a pitch for a new series inspired by the women she’d spoken to.Second Chance Kitchenwas picked up by Netflix, and it was going to be a cooking show that helped women who’d left the culinary world return to it. Nina would host, and each episode would focus on a different chef. Filming was set to start the following month. And the last episode of the season would focus on Nina looking for a restaurant space...so long as she could figure out what story she wanted to tell next as a chef. She hadn’t found the inspiration yet, but she was hopeful.
Her phone vibrated. She pulled it out and blinked at the screen. Tom had texted her.
It wasn’t that she’d been hoping for a text from Leo. But she’d been starting to see the new billboards and commercials for the next season of their show. Every time she did, she thought of him, and wondered if he ever thought of her, too.
She’d tried to keep loose, non-stalking tabs on him through the occasional—weekly—Googling session. But he’d stopped posting to social media. The only thing she saw were the rare Leo-sighting tweets, where fans acted as amateur sleuths and took photos of him out in the wild. He still looked good. He always had, though.
Jasmine bounced on the balls of her feet and clapped her hands. “I can see this working. I really can.”
“I’m telling you, you’ll be opening this restaurant very soon,” Nina said.
But Jasmine caught something. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you think there’s a rat infestation in one of these walls. I knew this was too good to be true.”
Nina sighed. For a moment she’d been sad; a miserable, lonely, lost version of herself. And not just because of Lyon. Closing Lyon had only been part of her grief, because losing Leo still hurt. “Just tired,” she said, shaking it off. “Come on, we should both go rest up. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
Jasmine nodded. As they walked toward the door, Nina pulled out her phone and opened a text to Leo. She typedI miss you. Then deleted the text. She turned the ringer up as high as it would go, on the off chance he texted.
39
LEO
Leo had meditated. Gone for a run. Taken a shower so hot he was certain he’d lost a layer of skin. Opted for tea instead of coffee so he wouldn’t be too jittery. And then there was the masturbating...twice in one afternoon. None of that had done a goddamn thing to stop the small tremor in his hands. Or the sweaty palms.
He hadn’t seen Nina in months. So the prospect of being in the same room with her was intimidating. What would he say? What would she say?
