Romance Impossible(22)

"It's different," I said. "Or, I guess, that's what he would say. He said it reflected poorly on his restaurant and on the charity." I took a deep breath. "But I was just trying to make the guy comfortable. He started it, he was talking that way and I just followed his lead. That's what you're supposed to do, right?"

"I dunno." Shelly sounded like she was rummaging through a cabinet. "So did you get in trouble, or what?"

"I guess. I don't know. He just scolded me, mostly. But he was fucking mad, I mean madder than you've ever seen him on TV. It was awful."

"You gonna quit?"

I hadn't even considered that possibility.

"Can't afford to," I said, which was true. But it wasn't my only reason for staying. I felt defiant. I felt, now more than ever, like I had something to prove.





***



The only way to move forward, I decided, was to apologize.
#p#分页标题#e#
I still didn't feel like I'd done anything wrong, for the situation. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I'd been taking a risk by talking like that. Anyone could have heard. And while people don't generally bring kids to an expensive charity dinner, it still wasn't really appropriate for the situation. The wording, the volume of my voice, the way I started laughing when the guy talked about my cousin - I actually cringed a little, thinking back to it.

I just wasn't used to being in these situations. But, like I'd told Chef Dylan, I could learn.

That was all supposing he didn't fire me.

I got to work early. Chef wasn't in the kitchen, but I found my way to his office and tapped lightly at the door.

"Come in," he said, after a moment's hesitation.

I stepped into the room, my heart thumping at a million beats per minute.

"I wanted to apologize for last night," I said, before he even looked up.

"Jillian," he said. "Sit down."

Oh, God.

I was starting to feel lightheaded. Was I going to lose my job over something so stupid? I couldn't believe it. But at the same time, people had been fired for a lot less...

He didn't stay anything for a long moment. I finally found my voice again, and briefly debated whether I'd just be digging myself in deeper if I kept talking. Eventually, I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"I understand that my behavior wasn't appropriate for the venue, and I'm very sorry. I got carried away with the conversation I was having. But I can promise you that the patron in question was not offended. And I promise I'll be more careful in the future."

Chef Dylan was looking at me searchingly, and I wondered if he was just trying to intimidate me. He was never at a loss for words. So what else could it be?

"Thank you, Jillian," he said. "I appreciate that."

After that, he was silent for so long that I almost stood up to leave.

"I shouldn't have dressed you down in front of everyone," he said, finally. "Especially without knowing the whole story. You're right, it wasn't appropriate. But I've done worse, in my time." He smiled a little. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Yes, Chef," I said. "Thank you, Chef."





***



Working next to him wasn't as awkward as I expected, after that. I felt strangely calm. After everything, I was okay. I was alive, and he didn't seem angry. Maybe that was the upside to his impulsivity. Once the anger was vented, it was gone.

I could learn to live with that.

"Salt?" Chef barked at me, while I kneaded some dough.

"One second, Chef." Couldn't he see that I had my hands full?

"Never mind," he snapped. "I'll get it. Excuse me."

His body pressed against mine, flattening me against the counter. He was reaching for the shelf right above my head, but I had to believe he could have done it a little less awkwardly.

"Excuse me," I muttered, trying to squirm away.

"Sorry," he muttered back, snatching the box of salt, but making no effort to give me more room. I tensed, and then relaxed, feeling a hot prickling blush creep up the back of my neck.

His grip faltered and the box started to slip - right into me, and I grabbed for it, our arms somehow intertwining as he fumbled. He let out a little snarl of frustration.

"I was going to get it in a second!" I snapped, before I could stop myself. His proximity was making my skin tingle and I didn't want to know why, but fucked if it didn't make me angry.#p#分页标题#e#

I shoved the box towards him, and he had to hug it to his chest before it spilled all over the floor. He was still just a few inches away.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he demanded. "If I ask you for salt, give me the fucking salt!"