Page 61 of Billionaire Neighbor

I nod and cautiously follow him through two sets of double doors until we reach a white pristine kitchen. There’s not a pot, pan or knife out of place. I can tell the floor has recently been cleaned, and everything looks sterile enough to eat off.

“Everyone is out to lunch right now, so I figure this is the best time to show you everything,” he says. “Take note of how clean the kitchen is. Any time the students leave, it should look just like this, so I hope you don’t mind cleaning. Most students come here expecting to only learn how to cook, and maybe a few knife tricks, but they’re mistaken. I have a course that takes several weeks to complete where we go over the process of proper sterilization.”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue for me at all. I was previously employed as a nanny, and part of my job included keeping the residence clean from top to bottom.”

“Good,” he says. “There’s nothing worse than a dirty kitchen. I can’t tell you how many restaurants with delicious food end up getting shut down by the health department because their kitchen standards aren’t up to spec.”

We walk from one station to the next with Ray pointing out different things. I feel like a kid walking through an amusement park for the first time. Each thing he points out is more exciting than the last.

“That’s it,” he says. “It’s not much, as I tend to prefer smaller, more intimate classes, but I promise once you finish my courses, there’s not a kitchen in the world that won’t scramble to get you.”

I instantly know how true that statement is. People who get their training here go on to do big things within the industry, and now I have a shot at being one of those people.

He leads me back through the double doors and holds open the door leading into an office.

“Please have a seat,” he says, motioning to the chairs in front of his desk.

He takes a seat and starts rummaging around in a drawer for a few seconds. Eventually, he finds what he’s looking for and pulls out a very thick folder filled with several pamphlets.

“Here,” he says, sliding everything across the desk to me. “Flip through and let me know if this is something you are really interested in, because my time is valuable, and I don’t want it wasted on someone who isn’t sure of themselves. Cooking isn’t a hobby for me, it’s my life and I need students who share that same value.”

I nod and take my time flipping through all the pages, that is, until I get to the page about tuition. In my mind, I knew going to school with such a prestigious chef would cost a pretty penny, but the number staring back at me is astronomical, and significantly higher than the generous estimation I made in my head.

I’d have to sell a kidney or two just to afford the supplies for this place. Even if I use all my savings, that still wouldn’t be enough to cover all the expenses.

I hate that I got my hopes up just to watch them come smashing into the ground, ultimately breaking up into tiny pieces.

“Listen,” I say, slowly closing the folder. “I’m grateful you took the time to give me this tour. It really means a lot to me to even meet you and see everything your school has to offer. To be completely honest with you, I’m going through a major life change and I may have put the cart before the horse by not really ironing out the details to this plan. I want to come here and learn everything you’ve mentioned, but the tuition—”

“Is already taken care of,” he says, reclining back in his chair.

I drop the rest of the papers on the desk and stare blindly, waiting for him to start laughing, but he doesn’t.

“Um, what?” I ask in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”

“Bradley went to bat for you, and he never does that for anyone, so you must have really impressed him. I’ve known him over twenty years and you’re the first person he has ever recommended… ever. He explained that you’re transitioning from your last job as a nanny and that I’d be a fool to pass you up, and I’m no fool. There’s a lot you should be worried about, like how to keep your chef coat stain free, because I require a pristine coat to enter my kitchen. Your tuition is the last thing that should be on your mind. Just don’t make me regret my decision.”

“Can you… do that? Just waive the tuition?” I ask nervously. Once again, I don’t want to get my hopes up just for him to come back later and say he made a mistake.

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