Romance Impossible(30)

Chef nodded, slowly, his gaze slightly distant now. He was now looking over me, rather than through me, and I could almost sense the physical shift. I no longer felt like a butterfly pinned to a card.

"I know," he said, finally. But it lacked the bite that I was expecting - the implication of how could you be so stupid as to point out the obvious? And then, even more surprising: "Thank you for being honest."

"Sure," I said. "Anytime."

He looked...troubled, in a way I'd never seen him before. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was plagued by self-doubt. But not Chef Dylan. Surely, no.

"There's just a small problem with Aiden," he said, after a moment, startling me. I'd assumed the conversation was over. "When I opened this restaurant, I promised his mother he'd always have a job here. A good one. He needs it. He needs the structure, you know, something to keep him busy. And he can't work just anywhere, because of the..." Chef cleared this throat. "But anyway. That doesn't matter. What matters is, we need to find a way to make it work."

This was the answer I'd been fearing. I was going to have to find some way to compensate for Aiden's shortcomings. We all would. And maybe we'd do all right. But I knew from personal experience that nothing hobbled a business faster than an un-fireable employee. Aiden seemed good-natured enough, but what incentive did he have to do better work if he knew he was protected?

But if I knew that, Chef Dylan knew it too. He had ten times the restaurant experience I did.

You must owe his mother one hell of a favor.

A thought occurred to me in a flash - he's your son. That would explain a hell of a lot. But no, it wasn't quite right. It had to be something like that, but I wasn't quite on-target.

I realized Chef was still standing there, staring at the wall, like it contained the answers to all of life's problems. "Well," I said, because it felt too awkward to say nothing. "I'm sure we can draw up some kind of - you know, performance improvement plan. Maybe he just needs a little extra help with things. Practice working under pressure. He'll improve. I can tell he wants to impress you."#p#分页标题#e#

"Of course he does," said Chef, his mouth drawn into a thin line. "Famous Uncle Max. Of course he wants to impress me. But I don't know if that's enough."

Ah. Nephew. The pieces were falling into place.

"It could be," I said, my mind suddenly racing. "He wants your approval, but he's intimidated, too, so that makes him nervous. And he doesn't have a lot of experience working through nerves. He gets overwhelmed easily. Flustered. We can work on that." Now that I'd begun to accept Aiden as non-negotiable, I was thinking more about his behavior, and all of his mistakes, and realizing that I'd once been a bit like him. For a long time, I'd felt like a misfit in professional kitchens. Stupid, even. Flawed. I'd considered quitting, until I realized that I just needed to cope with things a little differently.

A lot of people who gravitate towards this field thrive on stress. Pressure makes them come alive. I'd never been one of them, and as a result, I had to train myself on how to deal with the chaos. I'd done a pretty good job, clearly. But Aiden didn't even know where to start.

"I hope so," said Chef, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "If you think you can help him, be my guest."

"I know I can," I said, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth. "Aiden, I think - I think he's one of those people who does a lot better when he has just one thing to focus on, and lots of time to figure out how to deal with it. Obviously that's pretty much the opposite of a restaurant, but he can learn his own way of handling the stress. And I can help."

Chef smiled, finally - a tired smile, but it was a smile. "Don't tell me you used to be an Aiden."

"Well," I said, feeling myself start to blush again. "Not exactly. No. But I do understand a little bit of what he's going through."

"Well." Chef shook his head like he wanted to banish all his worries. "If you can turn him into half as good of an employee as you are, I'll be forever in your debt."

My throat tightened, and I could feel my blush grow even hotter. "Thank you, Chef," I said, quickly turning away before he could see my bright red face.





***



So Chef Dylan did have a soft spot. It made sense, but it wasn't a possibility I'd ever considered before. Aiden was clearly important to him, so I took my responsibility with him seriously. We had a good conversation after work, where he confessed how stressed and overwhelmed he was feeling. Like I guessed, he had never actually worked in a restaurant before. I told him that if he came in early the next day, I'd help him run through the same drills I'd once used on myself, until he was comfortable handling anything.