Page 3 of Last Shot at Love

Glancing across the plantation, I watched as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The mountains’ peaks cast long shadows, signaling the end of another day’s hard work. “I’m supposed to report to the resort next Thursday,” I said, feeling a pang of something akin to nostalgia settle in the pits of my stomach.

“And when will you return?” His voice held the barest hint of sorrow.

A frown tugged at my lips, the uncertainty of the future casting a shadow in my heart. “Truthfully, I don’t know if I will return. At least not right away,” I admitted, gathering my thoughts. “That’s up to Kael and me to decide... If things even progress to that stage for one, or both, of us to relocate.”

Axel looked at me, his eyes softening. The setting sun cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the lines of worry as he stepped closer. “Just remember, you’ll always have a home to come back to,” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

“I know, Brother,” I whispered, my throat tight. “And I’ll never forget that. No matter where this path leads me, this place, this family, will always remain a part of me.”

“What do you mean, I am fired?” I demanded, my voice sharp with disbelief.

Sir Ralph, the human male butler, stood before me. His gray hair was impeccably styled, and his glasses perched neatly on his nose, complementing the crisp lines of his suit. He exuded a quiet dignity, but today, his eyes held a hint of regret.

“The madam’s new husband doesn’t want a male chef, especially a catman, working for the household,” he explained, his voice steady despite the unfairness of the situation.

A hiss escaped my bared teeth, my fur bristling with indignation, and my tail flicked back and forth in a display of feline agitation. “After five years of service, she couldn’t even tell me herself?” I hissed, the sting of betrayal sharp in my throat. “She can’t even tell me to my face, and sends you to do her dirty work?”

“Mr. Chad insisted on handling it,” Sir Ralph corrected, his tone apologetic with a hint of distaste I had never heard from him before. “He knew Lady Annabellelynn would refuse to let you go, and he feared you might convince her to keep you on staff.”

I spat out a bitter laugh, the sound echoed in the stainless steel surroundings of the modern kitchen. “Mr. Chad must be jealous of my raw talent,” I sneered. “Threatened, perhaps, by having a ‘sexy catman’ working for the Lady Annabellelynn.” I let out a scoff. “It’s not my fault human women find my species alluring, nor that I am in my prime—strong, skilled, and single.”

Turning away, I swiftly gathered my prized knives, carefully sliding them into my roll bag. My mind raced over the inventory of the kitchen, as I glanced around the kitchen that had been my realm, but I found nothing else that belonged to me. The spices and special ingredients were Lady Annabellelynn’s, chosen for her unique palate. The recipes, though—they were mine, a culmination of years honing dishes to her exacting tastes—a feat not easily replicated.

Good luck to whoever dared to replace me.

Untying my apron, I tossed it onto the counter along with my hat. It was a final act of severance, leaving behind a part of myself that had been dedicated to this household.

My recipes, my culinary secrets, they were part of me, and I would take them wherever I went, leaving behind only the memory of flavors that no one else could recreate.

Slinging the knife roll over my shoulder, I turned to face Sir Ralph and extended my paw. “It’s been an honor to work alongside you,” I said, my voice laced with genuine respect.

With a practiced grace, he reached into his suit jacket and produced an envelope. “This should be the rest you are owed, plus a bonus for the inconvenience of breaking your contract early,” he explained, his voice carrying a note of respect.

I accepted the envelope, slipping it into the pocket of my knife roll without looking. The money was a small comfort for the abrupt end to my tenure.

Our handshake was firm, an unspoken understanding passing between us.

“It’s been an honor to meet you, Kael. I sincerely hope your next position is your forever home. You will be greatly missed.”

“Thank you, Sir Ralph,” I replied, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s been great, old man. But now, it’s time for me to see myself out.”

With that, I turned and walked through the kitchen one last time, each step a mixture of nostalgia and defiant resolve. I paused at the doorway, glancing back at the place where I had poured my soul into every dish.

I inhaled deeply; the familiar fragrances of the kitchen lingered in my nostrils, and I relished them one last time before stepping outside.

My strides were swift as I navigated the employee-only walkway, passing through the secluded garden pathway, vibrant with the late afternoon hues.

Reaching the parking lot, I unlocked my electric car, a sleek vehicle that was one of my few indulgences. Slipping into the driver’s seat with practiced ease, I placed my knife roll on the passenger seat.

“Cookie,” I greeted the car’s AI with a nod. “Drive me home.”

“Welcome, Kael,” Cookie responded in her smooth, electronic tone. “With moderate traffic, it will be a twenty-one minute and twenty-one-second drive to your destination home. Shall we proceed?”

“Go ahead,” I murmured, reclining my seat and closing my eyes to the reality that awaited me.

The truth of my situation washed over me in waves of disbelief and concern for my future. Unemployed. The word echoed in my mind, a stark contrast to the years of dedicated service I had given.

I was now an unemployed private chef in a city where the cost of living was as high as the skyscrapers that pierced its skyline, too costly for someone without a steady income.

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