Page 21 of Bad Teacher

7

Theo removed his apron and sat on the chair, tossing it aside. As much as he enjoyed being hands-on, he couldn’t afford to. He had five restaurants to manage, two in Tulip and three in surrounding towns. The reminder on his digital calendar pinged, and he flicked the screen on.

In a couple weeks, a prestigious food critic would visit one of his restaurants as he toured California. Theo glanced at his cell phone, and saw a message from Violet.

I may be a few minutes late today to my session with Marcelle. FYI.

Theo nodded. He had left her home last night after she’d shared those incredibly personal experiences with him. This message was all business, which hinted she didn’t want to pressure him.

Sounds good.He typed and sent.

A second later, he added, Miss you.

Hmmm… frustration clenched his gut. Maybe it was too soon for miss you messages. He ran his fingers down his face, unsure. Quickly, his phone pinged.

Me too.

His heart rate skyrocketed, and he bit back a smile. Those two simple words sent a delightful sensation through him. Of course, there was nothing wrong with a simple miss you. Besides, after all she’d told him about her past, he couldn’t simply retreat and act cold and distant. He was a troubled man, surely, but not a monster.

He searched for an appropriate emoji to reply when Alan announced his entry with his usual two quick knocks. Sliding his phone into his pocket, he looked at his friend. “What’s up?”

Alan handed him a folder. “I printed the new menu. If you agree, we can get it by the time Arthur Fourton comes for his visit.”

Theo opened the new menu and sat. Alan chose the chair in front of him. A quick scan of the pages and he already noticed one major fail. “The duck confit is gone.” The confit du canard was his late wife’s specialty, and one of the original dishes that stood the test of time in the several years they’ve had the restaurants.

Alan touched the back of his neck, the way he did whenever he was about to deliver bad news. “Yes. Since we changed other dishes, we decided to revamp the menu and the confit du canard hasn’t been ordered much in the past year.”

He didn’t need to ask who “we” were. Alan had a meeting with the chefs from the restaurants to go over the menu the previous week. Theo drummed his fingers on the desk. A chilly void took over his stomach, like removing one of his main organs. He shook his head. “The confit du canard stays.”

“Theo, please, be reasonable—”

“I am. You know I trust you and I’ve been especially grateful about how you stepped up on the last two years, but I can’t remove Celine’s favorite dish from the menu.”

Alan stared at him, a gleam of kindness in his green eyes. “I admire your sentiment, Theo. But the big food critic is coming. And this is a great time to take a risk and move forward with different creative choices.”

“I’m all for adding more, and I don’t mind the changes you’ve made, but taking that dish off the menu would be like…” he started, his voice losing energy at the end. He rocked back in his chair, restless. Would be like erasing Celine from his memory. He didn’t have to say it, but Alan shuffled in his seat and gave him a knowing look.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Theo. You’re a young man and shouldn’t have to live the rest of your life grieving. That’s not what Celine would have wanted.”

“I’m not grieving,” he rushed to say. “She’s gone, and I accept it.”

“Then act like it. I’m not saying her favorite dish won’t come back, this is a trial.”

What if Marcelle noticed the difference? What would he tell her then? She visited his restaurants sometimes and knew enough of the business. She certainly knew about her mom’s favorite dish. He rubbed his forehead. “Let me think about it.”

Alan sighed. “How’s your non-relationship?”

“She’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Fine,” Alan said sarcastically. “Don’t share.”

“She’s been through a lot. Tough woman,” he said with a pang of pride. “But I have to be careful… because I don’t want to hurt her.”

“You don’t want to get hurt,” Alan said in a slightly accusatory tone. “That’s comprehensible, after what you’ve been through.”

“That’s not what I said. God, man. Must you always change my words?” he snapped. Why did Alan think he was worried about getting hurt? Of course he wasn’t, because his heart wasn’t on the line. To suggest otherwise would be silly at best.

“You’re lucky you look good and have money, Theo.” Alan stood, shaking his head. “Let me know about the menus as soon as you make a decision.”

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