Sinned: A Priest Romance

by Daye, Veronica

  The dull thud of my Dansko clogs echoed through the stone hall. Even though I had been at Greystone for several months, I was still in awe of the tall ceilings and wall sconces that were left behind from when the building was a winery.

  With a few minutes before my appointment with Chef Bleacher, I slipped into the locker room to make sure everything was perfect with my uniform. Hair pulled back tightly? Check. Toque, jacket, and pants pressed and clean? Check. I was ready to find out what Chef wanted and even though I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, I couldn’t help but feel a little worried.

  As I approached Chef Bleacher’s teaching kitchen, I spotted him through the window, seated at his desk at the front of the room. The teaching kitchen was long, with alternating rows of prep areas and cooking stations. Chef’s head was down as I entered the kitchen.

  “Hi, Chef,” I said. “You wanted to meet with me?”

  “Yes, Sierra,” he said, opening his briefcase. “Please close the door and sit down.”

  I closed the door and joined him at his desk, where he pulled a large white folder from his bag.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” he asked, tilting his head towards me.

  “No, is everything okay?” I looked around the kitchen and did a mental check of everything I cleaned after the last class. As far as I knew I didn’t forget anything, but maybe I was wrong. “Did I do something?”

  “You look like you’ve been called into the principal’s office.” His eyes wrinkled as he laughed. “If you did something, I would have told you on the spot. We’re all adults here.” He smiled and patted my hand before sliding the folder in front of me. “Other than my work here, do you know much about me?”

  Chefs were well known for their egos and even though I did not know exactly what Chef Bleacher had done in the industry, I needed an answer that wouldn’t wound his ego. I bit my lip as I scanned everything on his desk for a clue but came up empty.

  “I’m sorry, Chef, but I don’t.”

  “That’s even better,” he said. “Bleacher Enterprises is known in the culinary world for establishing several high-end, well-known restaurants throughout the world. I teach here at the CIA when I get tired of that and need a break from the grueling pace of the restaurant world.”

  He turned the folder towards me and I mentally groaned when I saw Bleacher Enterprises in the center with the logos of famous restaurants surrounding it.

  How on earth did I not notice that?

  “I recently developed a catering business that will handle high profile, not-for-profit events. This will give me a chance to get back into the kitchen on a limited basis while helping some very important causes. I need a hardworking, trustworthy assistant in the kitchen with me. I’d like that to be you.”

  “Me? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I’ve been watching you closely this semester. And while I realize this is your first, I am also good friends with Chef Lowe from The River House. He has spoken very highly of your work there. I have a lot of respect for him, so for him to say the things he did about you also means a lot.”

  “But what about school?”

  “All events will be scheduled during breaks or on weekends if they’re local. It’s important that you get your education here, but we will be working close together and what you’ll learn directly from me will be priceless in your career. Take your time to think things over, but I think you’ll agree that this is an incredible opportunity for you.”

  Ahh, there’s the ego I’ve always heard about!

  “Thank you, Chef.”

  “There’s some more information in here,” he said as he slid the folder closer to me. “Take it home with you on break and read it. Do whatever research you think you need to and when you’re ready, my business card is attached.”

  “Yes, Chef. Thanks again, Chef.”

  He laughed. “Please, call me Brayden. When we’re in the kitchen, I’m Chef. But right now I’m Brayden. I really hope you’ll say yes, Sierra.”

  “I’ll think about it, Chef. I mean Brayden.”

  As I left the room, I breathed a sigh of relief. His offer was amazing and I was ready to accept it on the spot, but I knew I should take time to really think it over.

  Stepping outside, the cool crisp air excited me even more. I couldn’t wait to tell Issy and my mom about the job, but more importantly, I couldn’t wait to write to Jagger about it. As I planned my letter in my head, one of my classmates, Ethan Haggar, matched his step to mine.

  “Hey Sierra, where you going in your whites?”

  Ethan was a good-looking guy with tousled blond hair and green eyes that twinkled devilishly. We had been teamed up for several assignments this semester, and I was impressed with his culinary skills.

  “Not going, coming from. I had a meeting with Chef Bleacher this morning.”

  “Oh? What about?”

  “Nothing much. What are your plans for break? Are you going home for Christmas?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

  “Yeah, I’m leaving later today. I ever tell you we’re neighbors?”

  “Neighbors?”

  “Yeah, I’m in Encinitas. I interviewed at The River House the same day you did.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you there.”

  “I was waiting at the bar for my interview when you left. I could never forget your hair.”

  I self-consciously reached up to push my hair back over my shoulder, but it was still in a knot at the back of my neck.

  “How come you never mentioned that before?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d think I was some weirdo or something. Anyway, the reason I brought it up is because I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime during break.”

  “Go out? Like a date?”

  “Yes, exactly like a date. What do you think?”

  “I’m sorry, Ethan, but I already have a boyfriend.”

  “You do? I never heard you mention anyone before.”

  “And you never mentioned you saw me at The River House before.”

  “Touché,” he said. “Well, it’s just my dumb luck anyway. I’ve been waiting the entire semester to ask you out. I should’ve known someone as pretty as you would have a boyfriend.”

  As I shook my head in disbelief, I heard Issy’s voice from behind us.

  “Sierra! Hey, wait up!”

  “I need to finish packing,” Ethan said. “You’ve got my number from class, text me if you change your mind.”

  I won’t.

  It was nothing against Ethan, but I knew by now that no one could compare to Jagger. While we didn’t make any promises to each other, I didn’t want to date or be with anyone else. I wanted to wait for Jagger.

  “Hey, who was that hottie?” Issy asked.

  “That was Ethan. He’s in my class.”

  “He’s hot. Is he single? Maybe I should have gotten here earlier. The traffic from Berkeley was a bitch.”

  I laughed “Well, we live in the same building if you want to hunt him down while I grab my stuff. He just asked me out. Ends up he lives near us.”

  “Hmm…I wonder if he needs a ride home,” she said, grinning.

  “What about Simon? I thought you two were a couple now.”

  “We are, and I can’t wait to see him. He’s coming home for break, too. But being in a relationship doesn’t mean I’m blind.” She smirked. “I’m only joking anyway. But he is cute. Are you going to go out with him?”

  “No, why would I? I have a boyfriend.”

  Issy rolled her eyes. “Who? Jagger? I spent all that time trying to convince you he was a good guy, and now that he’s gone, you’re calling him your boyfriend?”

  “I really don’t want to hear it. We’ve got an eight-hour drive home, please don’t make it all about that.”

  “Have you heard from him?”

  “No,” I said quietly. “But he’s been in boot camp.”

  “He’s got to be out of boot camp by
now. Sierra, it’s me you’re talking to. You told me you both agreed on no strings, no attachments. He knows how you feel about the whole military thing.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you’re not going to hear from him.”

  I stared at Issy and clenched my hands into fists. How could she say that? How could she say the one thing I was most afraid of?

  “I don’t want to hear that. I can’t hear it. I’ve been writing to him every week since he left. I know deep down inside we had something special. And I know he feels the same way. I just know it.”

  I looked away from her. I had never admitted how I felt about Jagger before, not my real feelings at least. Saying them out loud made not hearing from him feel that much worse.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Issy hugged me tight before we went to my dorm room to grab my things. I had two weeks at home before I had to come back to school. I couldn’t wait to see my mom and Phil. He had to know something about Jagger. As long as he was okay, that was all that mattered.

  ***

  The eight-hour drive flew by. Issy dropped me off at home, and I found my mom and Phil snuggling together on the couch watching a movie.

  “Did you eat?” Mom asked. “I can heat up dinner for you.”

  “Thanks, but we stopped on the way when the traffic started to get bad,” I said. “How’s everything been around here?”

  I hoped they would bring up Jagger on their own, but I was prepared to ask about him if I needed to.

  “It’s been quiet here,” Phil said. “Miss having you around. And this summer was especially great.”

  “Have you heard from Jagger?”

  Phil’s expression went blank and he cleared his throat. “Not really. We went to his Recruit Training Graduation but haven’t really heard from him since then.”

  Haven’t really heard?

  “What’s that mean?” I asked.

  “Let’s talk in my office.”

  I followed Phil to his office and he closed the door behind me. Dread filled me and I wanted to run away, but whatever it was Phil needed to tell me, I was ready to hear it.

  “I got a letter from Jag a couple of weeks ago,” he said as he pulled out a box that was addressed to him.

  “So he’s all right? What did he say?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s all right. I don’t know anything.”

  Phil’s face looked worn and aged suddenly. Lines appeared on his face that I hadn’t noticed before. His eyes looked red as he handed the letter to me.

  “You want me to read it?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I can’t make sense of it.”

  He looked away as I took the letter and sat in his desk chair. He rested his elbows on his knees like I had seen Jagger do plenty of times before. I took a deep breath and started reading.

  Dear Dad,

  Thank you for coming to my graduation. It was great seeing you, Rachel, and Mom there.

  I want you to know how much I’ve appreciated everything you’ve done for me in my life. I know you were disappointed I enlisted, but I really think this is the right place for me. I think things will be really good. I know you’re proud of the man I became and I have to say that I’m proud of myself, too.

  I’m leaving Great Lakes soon and wanted to take this chance to say my good-byes to the people I love. I didn’t say anything at graduation because I didn’t want anyone to worry. I cannot say where I’m going.

  I know you weren’t happy about my joining the Navy instead of going to college. But this was my decision, and it was the right one to make. I will never regret it.

  I’ve also written a letter to Mom and I’m also writing one to Sierra. By the time you read this letter, I’ll be gone. I’ll be in touch when I can.

  Love,

  Jagger

  “Where is it?” I said, my voice hoarse. “Where’s my letter?”

  I tried to stop myself from thinking the worst, but I could see from Phil’s expression that that’s where his mind was, too. He handed me a large manila envelope with my name scrawled across the top.

  I ripped the flap open and looked inside. It was filled with letters. I pulled one out and stared at my handwriting across the envelope.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  Reaching back into the envelope, I pulled out another, then another. It was all of the letters I had written to Jagger. The envelopes had been opened, but the letters were still inside.

  Flipping the manila envelope over, I dumped its contents onto the desk. Phil started to grab the envelopes with me, turning them over as we looked for the letter Jagger wrote me.

  “Where is it?!” I said, my voice catching as my throat tightened.

  Phil picked up a small white envelope that made a sliding sound. He flipped it over, and I recognized Jagger’s handwriting from his father’s letter. Phil held it out to me, but I froze. I couldn’t take it. I didn’t want to know the answer to the puzzle, if there even was an answer. I didn’t want anything to confirm what I feared the most, that Jagger was dead.

  “Open it,” Phil said softly. “We need to know.”

  With a trembling hand, I took the small white envelope from him. Whatever was inside slid down and made the envelope heavier on one end. Taking a deep breath, I chewed my lip as I slowly opened the envelope. Something fell to the floor.

  Holding the envelope, I knelt down and picked up a ball chain necklace. As I lifted it, I saw a metal oval dangling from the end.

  NO!

  Memories of my mother receiving my father’s dog tags rushed into my head. My vision blurred and I tried to blink away the tears, but I had no control over them. I closed my hand around the cool metal and looked inside the white envelope, but I couldn’t see anything.

  “The letter,” I cried. “Where’s the letter?”

  I handed Phil the envelope and he looked inside and shook his head. Next he started pulling out the letters I wrote to Jagger. He unfolded each one and flipped them over, looking for a sign, a note, anything from his son. I knew what he was doing because it was exactly what I would have done if my tears hadn’t blinded me.

  Wiping the tears with my fists, I opened my hand and read the embossed oval tag.

  MYKA, JAGGER

  739746393 O POS

  CHRISTIAN

  Feeling my legs go weak, I dropped into a nearby chair. My chest ached as I stared at the tag. Memories of my mother’s pain, mixed with my own from losing my dad so long ago flooded me. They mixed with my thoughts of Jagger and the tears started all over again.

  I shook as my emotions ripped through me, forcing sobs from my throat. Phil wrapped his arms around me and as much as I wanted to run away with my tears in private, I felt comfort in his arms.

  Neither of us said anything. We didn’t know exactly what happened, but we didn’t need the truth to smack us across the face. We had to accept what we already knew. Jagger was dead.

  ***

  Christmas was solemn. Phil reached out to Jagger’s mom, but Melanie refused to talk to him. We didn’t want to have a service without Melanie there so we decided to wait until she was ready. Phil knew Melanie would have more details, but he didn’t want to press her.

  I couldn’t stay in San Diego anymore. Everywhere I looked, I saw Jagger. His blue eyes, his half smile, all of it was imprinted on my brain. I didn’t want to forget him, but I needed some distance. I needed something to fill my mind so that I wasn’t obsessing about him. I had to stay busy.

  Returning to Greystone was my saving grace. And so I wouldn’t have to go back home on breaks, I took the job with Chef Bleacher. I dove even further into my culinary education. I made everything about that just so I wouldn’t have the time to think about him.

  But Jagger was always with me. Whenever I ran across Annie Hall on TV, saw a blooming dahlia, or sometimes when the wind blew a certain way, I thought of him. I kept the
photos and videos he sent me and watched them often. As time passed, I had less tears and more laughter as I watched him gyrate and hip thrust towards the camera. He might have been gone, but I promised myself I would never forget him. Ever.

  Part Two

  Five Years Later

  ~ Thirteen ~

  Sierra

  “Please hurry, Sierra, we’re going to be late,” Brayden said.

  “Okay, okay. I just forgot some last minute things I wanted to bring for Issy.”

  Brayden appeared in the doorway. His hair was neatly brushed back and still a little damp from his shower. He had on a cotton button-down shirt and a pair of khaki pants. As always, he looked perfectly put together.

  After two years of working together, Brayden and I started dating. Then a year ago, he proposed and I moved into his Napa Valley estate. Things were good between us, but after his pushing to get married and my pushing to keep things the way they were, we decided we were better off as friends.

  “Is Issy home?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I figure I’ll leave it with her mom just in case. I know she’ll be home for Christmas sometime after her graduate exams. She was telling me how she and Simon were dividing their time between their families.”

  I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth.

  “See, they’re not married, but they’re splitting their time between families,” he said. “I never understood why you wouldn’t meet my family. They’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “I…I know. It just didn’t feel right,” I said. “And now it would just be weird.”

  “Weird? You know if I thought things could work out between us, I’d do anything for you. Why can’t you do this one thing? We’ve been living together, we were engaged to be married, what more is there?”

  I looked at the ground as I searched for the answer. Ending our relationship didn’t change much between us. We still lived together, we just didn’t share a bedroom anymore. With Brayden so busy, he was rarely in the house anyway. Unfortunately, there were times when Brayden acted like we were a couple still and not just friends.