“Maybe he will someday,” I say, trying not to put my foot into my mouth so close to graduation.
Chef Bennett looks at me appraisingly. “I’m concerned that your...arrangement won’t be...mutually beneficial for you.”
I bristle. “Do you think Chef Beltran is an inadequate chef?”
“Him I do not,” she pauses, giving me a strange gaze. “His son...however.”
I watch her carefully. “What about his son?”
“I understand from the grapevine that you and his son have a rather...close relationship,” she says.
Great, here it goes. She’s going to tell me not to touch him because he’s meant for bigger and better things or some bullshit like—
“I think you’re brilliant, Jones. With the right time and focus, you could be one of the best Patisseries in the world,” she offers, surprising me. “Emphasis on the word focus.”
Oh, I think. “So, you—”
“Feel that the junior Beltran is more trouble to you than he’s worth,” she states plainly.
I honestly want to tell her how fucking wrong she is. Auggie’s amazing, just because he didn’t go through formal training doesn’t make him a bad chef. He did a couple of summers of training in New York during high school. Abuela’s never had formal cooking lessons in her life and she leads one of the most successful kitchens in town.
How can she honestly think Auggie’s inferior when she doesn’t know him?
She doesn’t know how much time and energy he’s given to his dad’s conglomerate. She can’t possibly appreciate what he does and what he’s worth.
Burning this bridge isn’t an option, no matter how much I want to tell her off right now. Chef Bennett has connections all over the world. She could be an invaluable resource if I play my cards right. She could make or break my career, so, I guess my only option is to grin and bear her bad opinions.
Chef Bennett smiles. “I assume you disagree with me. That’s alright. I urge you to be careful, but ultimately it’s your decision who you let influence your life and career.”
I take a deep breath, trying to hear her words in good faith. I love Auggie so much. I understand that I’ve been distracted, but he’s been nothing but a positive force in my life. Auggie defends me, supports me, and uplifts me like no one else. He’s always pushing me to be my best.
Why would I want to take on the world without him? I wouldn’t is the thing.
“I think you would do amazingly in some of the restaurants I have close relationships with around Europe,” Chef Bennett says. “But I understand your life is in the States. Please keep my email in your contacts, and let me know when you’re ready to broaden your horizons.”
“Thank you, chef,” I murmur. “This is extremely generous of you—”
“I don’t waste my time on chefs I see no potential in,” she says, interrupting me. “Your friend, Shankar, might be too loud for her own good. But if she had been even slightly less talented, I would’ve sent her packing.”
“Thank you, chef,” I reiterate, at a loss for words. She thinks I’m talented.
“Well, off you go then,” she says.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I jet out of her office, desperate to leave her scrutinizing gaze and ecstatic to tell Tiff what just happened.
Twenty-Five
George
Culinary school graduation is everything I’d hope undergrad graduation would be. I feel like this is truly my shining moment. This is truly the culmination of my experiences and achievements as an adult. I’ve worked so hard to be able to call myself a chef. Chef Jones, I think proudly, that has a nice ring to it.
My chef’s hat isn’t necessarily easier to keep on than my graduation cap was, but I’ll figure it out soon enough. I have to after all.
I’m so ecstatic as I cross the stage to accept my diploma that I nearly forget to look toward the audience. No one in the audience is here for me, but I know Tiff’s parents will take photos for my dad to see later.
Someone’s waving wildly when I look toward the crowd. It almost looks like—
“Way to go, George!” Auggie shouts and whistles.
My heart begins to thump hard and he’s the only person I see.
Auggie, I mouth.
He smiles and winks at me. Right next to him is Dad who also waves at me.
Really? I can’t—they came for me. My two favorite people in the entire world traveled halfway across the world. Just to see me graduate.
I barely remember sitting back down after that. Or the rest of the names they announce after me. I just can’t get over feeling so loved. I haven’t seen them in two years, but they came for me. Part of me thinks that should’ve been obvious—of course my dad and best friend would want to see me graduate.
But it’s still so huge that they surprised me.
After the ceremony and pictures are taken, I go to find them. It doesn’t take long since I spot the top of Auggie’s head bobbing just above the crowd. Without thinking, I run toward him.
“There she is,” Dad exclaims happily as I approach them.
I crush Dad in a tight hug. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Well, of course I am,” he says. “What kind of father would I be if I missed my baby’s graduation?”
“You’d still be a good one, Dad.”
“But not a great one,” he adds as he kisses the top of my forehead.
I turn to Auggie. Two years have done a lot for him. His hair is shorter, but his jaw looks stronger. His suit fits him so well, showing off his great arms and legs (and I’m hoping a great ass). This isn’t the gawky Auggie I left back home. This is a man filling the Auggie shaped hole in my heart. I missed him so much, for a second, I forget how to breathe.
“You did it.” He wraps me into a hug. “Congratulations, Georgie-girl.”
“I can’t…” I stammer. “You came.”
“Seriously, George? Nothing could stop me from being here. Fuck, there’s so much to tell you I...just missed you.”
He missed me?
Like...really missed me? Am I extremely hung up on him or did he just say that like he’s going to flirt and/or confess his love for me?
I want to ask him, at least look him in the eye and see if he feels anything for me, but I don’t. This isn’t the place to confess my feelings—and potentially get my heart broken.
“Alright, kids,” Dad says, with a hand on both of our shoulders. “Let’s go and celebrate and next Sunday, we’re heading home.”
I feel like I’m on cloud nine. This day couldn’t possibly get better. Dad’s words are music to my ears. I can’t wait to be back home.
✩✩✩
“Look at you, rocking the French language and your hair …”
I blush and flatten my curls. “You don’t like it?”
“Love it,” Auggie answers, bouncing a curl. “The caramel highlights look good on you.”
Dad stayed in the hotel claiming jet lag. We packed all my things yesterday and today we cleaned up the loft before we had to turn in the keys to the landlord. Earlier we went to visit a couple of museums.
“Your dad still misses your mom,” Auggie mentions as we walk toward the hotel. “It was inspiring listening to him talk about art and your mom.”
“He’s passionate about both of them. She was his soulmate,” I answer. “Those aren’t easy to come by. I’ve heard that once you find the person who completes you, no one can fill their place.”
“Sounds poetic,” he says, and I’m tempted to ask about us but I’m not sure how to start the conversation.
Auggie, after all this time apart, I’ve come to realize that I love you?
This guy is a romantic. Passionate about his own art—the culinary art. We speak the same language when it comes to food, but would it be the same if we cross the friendship line? Does he want to cross it?
“So, what did you do while I was away?” I ask, instead of bluntly saying, do you have a girlfriend?
>
It’s been years since the last time he dated. Dana, Diana, Dena? I can’t remember her name. I have no idea what’s changed since I’ve been gone. It’s been two years. He looks so different—like a grown-up version of himself.
“It’s a surprise,” he replies while taking my hand. “Are you ready to go back home?”
My heart beats faster, and I have a feeling that this surprise is just the diversion I need. “Never been more ready, Auggie.”
✩✩✩
Finally seeing my house for the first time in nearly two years is so healing for my soul. Well, Auggie’s house. I didn’t expect it to be exactly the same, or to be happy that nothing had changed. Maybe it’s a little selfish of me to be glad that Auggie didn’t move on in my absence. But I’m a little too happy to let self-imposed guilt get me down right now.
Especially when Auggie’s been on his toes, waiting to show me this surprise since we arrived a few hours ago. I don’t know what it is but I think we’re both anxious to get to it.
“Well, alright,” I say after I put my stuff in my room. “Let’s see that surprise you have.”
He’s been a little secretive yet excited lately. I don’t know...I still don’t want to jump the gun. But it makes me wonder if he’s going to ask me out or more…
Well, probably not more but maybe. After all, we’ve known each other for years. What if he realizes that we’re just ready to take the next step?
He asks me to let him take me to the surprise, covering my eyes as we get to the car with a scarf. Once we’re in the car, he hands me Dramamine. He did the same during the flight back from Paris. He made sure I was in first class and I wasn’t feeling nauseous.
These moments are the ones that tell me I’m not crazy. He cares. I might dare to say, he loves me.
“Okay, no peeking. I’ll guide you,” he says as soon as he parks the car.
He opens the car door, helps me get down, and gently pushes me forward. He keeps one hand over my eyes.
“Auggie, this is getting ridiculous,” I say, my stomach tied in knots.
What is he going to do?
“Just be a little more patient, I promise this will be worth it,” he says.
The excitement in his voice is confusing. He almost sounds nervous? Shit, what if this really is a proposal?
“Okay, here we are,” Auggie says as he finally takes his hands off my eyes. “Open them.”
He reveals this gorgeous restaurant. It’s crisp with black and white counter spaces but the tables, wall art, and hardwood flooring feel so rustic and natural. It reminds me a little of this hole-in-wall back in our college town, or maybe some place I used to go to back in Phoenix. It’s stunning and yet, so eerily familiar.
But where’s the surprise? “Wow, uh...where are we?”
“Our new restaurant,” Auggie declares proudly.
I blink my eyes repeatedly. “Ours as in—”
“Yours and mine...well, mine right now, but now that you’re here we can polish the legalities.”
He smiles bashfully. “Surprise!”
“You—” didn’t propose, I don’t say. “Built us…a restaurant?”
“Built you a restaurant,” he corrects.
I smile, trying not to sound ungrateful and disappointed. In the big scheme of things, this is a wonderful surprise. But…honestly an ‘I love you’ would’ve been everything and more.
He takes my hand and shows me around the dining rooms and bar, saving the kitchen for last.
“Wow, this is beautiful,” I say, impressed.
The place is astonishing. Pushing my feelings aside, this restaurant is a dream. I’d be happy working for Ene—or in any restaurant Diego assigns me. But here is just…utopia.
“The concept southwestern meets mountains,” he says. “You know, like us.”
Like us, I repeat inside my head.
Wow, so he wants us to run our very own restaurant together...that’s all about us. That’s actually very sweet...almost romantic, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot. Does it? This doesn’t tell me if he wants to date me, or if he feels anything for me outside of the bonds of friendship.
Do you have feelings for me, Auggie?
I have the urge to know what he’s thinking. Every thought and right now, I feel like I can’t read him at all. We lost the connection…the connection maybe I thought we had or did I just make it up while I was away?
“Do you like your surprise?” he asks, uncertain.
Glancing around, I take in the entire place one more time. It’s gorgeous, different—homie.
He was right...this restaurant did take me completely by surprise. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, though.
“Was there anything else you wanted to surprise me with?” I ask. “Or...talk to me about?”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, uh, actually...I think you should start out as a Comis Chef. Just for now, you know? I promise Pâtissier is as good as yours in a year or so...I just thought it would be beneficial if you started out with some more mentorship opportunities.”
Great, so he doesn’t want a relationship, but he does think I need to be gently told that I can’t be a boss in this place he created for us.
I frown, take a few breaths, and try to think this through. Yeah, I’m just disappointed because I expected more. Flowers, a ring, a forever.
Shake it off and snap out of this mood.
My best friend is opening a brand-new restaurant, wants me in on the ground floor, and I can’t even feign excitement. That’s not fair to either of us.
“So...what do you think?” he asks nervously.
I smile as genuinely as I can.
“I love it,” I say truthfully.
My disappointment is due to my stupidity. But seriously, I can’t stop feeling disappointed.
We can work this out though. It’s going to be okay.
Twenty-Six
Auggie
A lot has changed around Desert Rose in our first year of operation. We’ve made some exciting additions to the menu, hired a world class bartender, and hired George’s friend, Tiff, from Paris as our new junior Poissonnier chef.
I can’t say that last change was based on entirely impartial circumstances. But Tiff Shankar is phenomenal at what she does, we needed a new junior fish chef...and she might scare me a little bit.
Which, you know, wouldn’t be a real issue if it weren’t exacerbated by the fact that she and Dwayne don’t seem to get along at all. I can’t tell if it’s a sex thing, or they just really get a joy out of driving each other crazy—but at this point I don’t care because they’ve been arguing for weeks now.
Dwayne would tell me if he didn’t feel comfortable firing Tiff...but he hasn’t done that yet, so I guess there’s nothing left for me to do but mediate when necessary. It’s kind of impressive how easy it is for two people to find this many excuses to argue with each other.
Case in point, it’s almost opening time, and they’re arguing in the middle of the kitchen about the menu for some reason.
“For the last time, Surf and Turf has to remain a part of the permanent menu,” Dwayne says.
“And for the last time, Surf and Turf is really fucking boring and lobster is just bland sea scorpion,” comes Tiff’s blunt rebuttal.
Judging by how frustrated he looks, I think if Dwayne had longer hair, he’d be tearing it out right about now.
“How the fuck do you come highly recommended when you’re this insubordinate?!”
Fortunately for Tiff, she does come highly recommended by people besides George. She spent the last year at a Michelin five-star restaurant in London, who had nothing but praises for her professionalism.
She’s a skilled chef who specifically asked for the junior Poissonnier position as soon as it became available (most likely that was just George’s doing). I had to hire her. Between Dwayne’s notoriety, George’s artistic vision, and Tiff’s rising star this place could be big in a few years.
Bigger than
it aspires to be now, at least.
“Guys, guys, seriously?” George says. “We’ve talked about this.”
Tiff crosses her arms as Dwayne shrugs.
“You guys are on the same team...and you’d probably be on the same page if you would talk about it.”
They both grumble.
George sighs. “Okay, let’s take this from the top. Yes, we have to keep a ‘Surf and Turf’ option on our menu. But you’re both creative so I know it’s probably killing you both that you can’t get rid of it...right, Dwayne?”
“Yeah, basically,” he says.
George nods. “So, we can’t do anything about that today since the restaurant’s about to open...but why don’t the four of us sit down this week and figure out how to revamp the entire seafood section to be more in line with what everyone’s excited about? We can have a different version of S & T every week. Tiff, how does that sound?”
Tiff looks at Dwayne critically, before saying, “Yeah, okay.”
“Auggie, what do you think?” George asks.
I think you’re as amazing with people as you are with food, but I don’t say. I keep almost slipping up like that—being too emotional and doting at work where we’re supposed to be serious. I can’t help it, though. She’s just been killing it ever since she got back from Paris.
I’m constantly blown away by how good she is at her job. Nothing makes me prouder than being her best friend and partner in this business.
“Uh, that’s great,” I say, trying to keep my composure. “Great job as usual, George.”
Maybe I’m imagining things, but I swear I catch her blushing before I leave the kitchen.
✩✩✩
My dad gets pretty generous around the holidays. Every year, we hold the restaurant staff’s annual holiday party at his house. This year though, George decorated it. Abue wasn’t up to it and the twins aren’t spending the holidays with us.
She did a wonderful job. I just love how inviting this house is, especially after decorations and lights have been hung. It’s a very spacious property and with the heated back porch, we’re able to give our hard-working employees a luxurious thank you for a year well spent.
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