Page 23 of The Second Chance Year

It’s a bit overwhelming.

You wanted to be with Alex, a little voice reminds me, one that sounds an awful lot like an old lady fortune teller.This is what it means to be with Alex.And I know it’s true.

So, Ioohandahh, and smile, and I press my hand to my heart as I sift through the contents of the shopping bags. And by the time Alex hands me the last box holding a simple platinum necklace with a solitaire diamond pendant, I’ve gotten into the spirit of things. Because, my God, this stuff reallyisbeautiful, and Alex can’t stop grinning at me.

I stand and wrap my arms around him. “Thank you.”

“I’m really happy that you’re making an effort with my colleagues, Sadie.”

“Dinner the other day was fun. I really liked everyone.” Okay, that may be an exaggeration. I will never, ever like Zach, but I also don’t need to make a big thing of it.

“I’m so glad,” Alex says, tightening his arms around me. “Because that’s related to what I wanted to ask you. Dave mentioned he and his wife would like to get to know my girlfriend, and I was wondering if it would be okay for me to schedule a dinner.”

His shoulders tense and eyebrows knit together, and I realize how much this means to him. The designer clothes and bags and shoes aren’t just about impressing some Wall Street colleagues. They’re about impressing Dave, who filled a hole in his life when his dad died. And then it dawns on me that thejob, the apartment, his relationship with Dave, they’re a new start for Alex after the bottom fell out of his world.

It’s not that different from my own second chance year if you really think about it.

“I’d love to meet Dave and his wife.”

And with that, I shove the last of my worries aside. My career is on track and there’s a chance I could land that executive pastry chef position. I’m still living in my apartment, and I can afford to pay the rent. And as the cherry, whipped cream, and sprinkles on top, I have a great guy who wants me to be a part of his exciting new life.

It’s all coming together just like I wanted it to.

Chapter 12

April

I’m testing a new recipe for brioche doughnuts with coffee cream when Xavier bursts into the kitchen. “Sadie,” he says. “I need you to help out in the dining room again. Rob Thurmond is bringing in some VIPs again tonight, and he specifically requested you.”

At this point, I’ve worked out that Rob is the creepy older guy who looked down my shirt a couple of weeks ago. Apparently, I made an impression. I sort of wish it had been a water-spilled-in-his-lap kind of impression. Maybe I can ask to be on hot coffee duty today.

I take off my apron, remembering the promotion. I’m doing this for the promotion. At least I finished making the pink lemonade angel food cakes earlier today. All Doug has to do is plate the slices and drizzle strawberry chardonnay sauce on top. Surely he can manage that. “Okay, I’ll need another server’s shirt.”

Xavier blinks, and I wonder if he’s surprised I’d go along so willingly. Unbelievably, he gives me a pat on the shoulder. And then, even stranger, he actually says the wordsthank you. Right to my face.

“Um. You’re welcome.”

He turns to leave, but at the last second, spins back around. “I received a lot of compliments on the white peach and basil hand pies last night, and I know that was your concept.”

Truly shocked now, I can only nod.

“I’m sure you heard rumors that there may be some staffing changes later this year. I’ve got my eye on you for any openings.” With that, he marches out of the kitchen, snapping at a server who had the nerve to get in his way.

I stare after him as the door separating the kitchen from the dining room swings shut. Did he just imply that I’m up for the executive pastry chef position? I feel a smile pulling at my lips as I look around to see if anyone else can confirm what he said. Kasumi stands at the far end of the kitchen by the industrial-sized sink. The wide-eyed expression on her face mirrors the surprise I’m feeling. But instead of returning my grin, she gives a tiny, incredulous shake of her head and turns around to rinse the cutting board she’s holding.

I change in the break room, and head out into the dining area. Everything goes smoothly for most of the evening. While my presence is not actually helpful to the other servers, at least I manage to steer clear of being a liability. I stick to pouring coffee and water and avoid anything where taking orders or entering them into the computer is involved. I’m clearing dessert plates, hoping that maybe I managed to make it through the night without any disasters, when something brushes the back of my leg. It must be the angle I’m leaning over the table to reach for a stray dessert fork. Maybe I’ve bumped the arm of someone’s chair. But then whatever is touching my legstarts to slide from my upper thigh to my ass. I look down, and my eyes lock on the florid face of Rob Thurmond. He grins up at me.

I jerk back, away from the hand and its creepy owner, and the stack of plates I’m holding teeters, topples, and hits the floor with the unmistakable crash of china on slate tile.

“Oh, for God’s sake. It’s Sadie again,” Marianne mutters to the other servers.

My cheeks flush so hot, I know they must be as red as the strawberry chardonnay sauce that’s now smeared across the floor. I turn and flee the dining room, leaving the pile of broken plates for the servers to clean up. I know they’ll be even more annoyed with me than they already are. But I don’t care. I dart into the break room, yanking off my server’s shirt and pulling on the sweatshirt I’d worn on my walk to the restaurant earlier. I’m grateful it’s oversized, and long enough to skim my thighs.

I know Rob is the one who should feel ashamed, and that I ought to march into Xavier’s office and tell him exactly what happened. But somehow, I’m the one who’s red-faced and burning with humiliation, and I know I’ll never say a word. I stuff the server’s shirt into the garbage can, going over and over the events in my head. Did Rob think I was flirting when he told that dumb joke and I forced a smile? Maybe I leaned too close when I was pouring his water? One of my buttons came undone halfway through the night. Why didn’t I check them before I went out there?

I’m angry that these thoughts even cross my mind because I know they’re not rational. If Kasumi was the one who had herass grabbed, I’d tell her that none of it was her fault. But I can’t seem to give myself the same grace.

I just want to get out of here.

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