A Dash of Love. Liz Isaacson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ short, choppy haircut wasn’t doing him any favors.

      Be nice, she told herself. Only positive thoughts. No judgments on someone’s appearance. She knew better than anyone that looks usually only ran skin deep.

      “Yes.” She flashed him what she hoped was a bright-as-the-sun smile and handed him her resume. He didn’t return her grin, and she felt hers slide right off her face.

      “This way.” He led her to a table smack dab in the middle of the waitstaff preparing the restaurant for opening, and she glanced around nervously.

      “It would be such an honor to be a cook here at Finique,” she said, her voice just the tiniest bit squeaky. She longed to clear her throat to lower it, but she didn’t dare. Finique definitely wasn’t a place where people went around clearing their throats. They probably asked for seltzer water for such things.

      The manager, who had not introduced himself, looked up from her resume. “Yes. It would.” His eyes skated over her, almost like she wasn’t worthy of his full attention.

      She sat on her hands so she wouldn’t fidget. “I ate here once, and it was one of the best meals of my entire life.” She went ahead and did the throat-clearing. No one popped from the immaculate woodwork to arrest her, and the manager continued to stare at her single piece of paper like it was typed in Latin.

      “It was Valentine’s Day,” Nikki said, unsure why she couldn’t make herself stop talking. “My boyfriend took me out, and we had the most breathtaking meal.” She waited for him to look at her, acknowledge that she was speaking at all. When he didn’t, she mentally named him the Silent Supervisor and wished she could yank her resume from his perfectly manicured hands.

      “It was a four-course meal with a perfectly paired, peppery zinfandel finished off with the most decadent chocolate soufflé.” A giggle burst from her mouth, though there was nothing happy about where this story was going. “Which he ended up dumping me over—which wasn’t so good, as you can imagine.” She cut her voice off as the Silent Supervisor looked at her like she’d turned green.

      Well, the soufflé had been delicious—just not the part where Ryan had ended things while couples around them kissed, got engaged, and made plans for their future.

      The Silent Supervisor cleared his throat, but not in the nervous kind of way. More like the I’m-so-much-better-than-you kind of way. Sort of a hoity-toity cough, really.

      “But the food was very, very good.” Nikki enunciated each very with a hand gesture, as if the Silent Supervisor didn’t understand the meaning of the word.

      “Your resume doesn’t state where you went to culinary school.”

      Her heart sank all the way to her shoes. “I… I didn’t. I’m self-taught.” She infused as much confidence into her voice as she could.

      The Silent Supervisor seemed to roll his whole upper half, not just his eyes. “Self-taught?”

      Nikki nodded, glad the word-vomit about her breakup with Ryan seemed to be over.

      “This is Finique, darling.” The condescending tone wasn’t hard to find. The Silent Supervisor tossed her resume to the table and pushed it back toward her with one finger like it contained a contagious disease. “We don’t hire amateurs.” He checked his watch as if he had a billion more important things to do.

      She lifted her eyebrows, her confidence shot straight through. “Amateurs.” She smiled though there wasn’t anything to be happy about—anything to keep the anger and hurt from leaking out. The need to get out of this building pressed down on her. “Right. Of course you don’t.” She picked up her resume with her decade of experience on it. But not the right experience, apparently. “Thank you for your consideration.” She stood, her legs conducting her out of this awful restaurant—where now two of the most humiliating experiences of her life had taken place.

      She marched down the street, her head held high. Finique had just lost a customer for life. She hoped they knew that. Sure, maybe she couldn’t afford their gourmet dinner prices right now, but someday, when she could, she still wouldn’t eat there. And that Silent Supervisor could really use a new haircut.

      Vindicated, she headed back over to Delucci’s for their day-old bread. They’d graciously agreed to let her have it for free on Wednesdays, as she used it at the community center’s daily free meals. Nikki figured if she couldn’t get paid to cook, she could still practice her skills, do what she loved, and help some people along the way. She only volunteered twice a week, but it was something.

      She pushed into Delucci’s even though the sign read CLOSED and found Marty and Trish at the counter, counting out their till.

      Marty glanced up at her and picked up a big bag. “Not too much left over today, but here it is.”

      Nikki took it with a smile, glad her day of interviews was done and she could simply do what she loved most: cook.

      “So how’d interview go?” Marty asked, leaning into the counter.

      “Marty!” Trish swatted him with a dirty look on her face.

      “What?”

      “Why do you have to be so nosy?” She looked at Nikki, an apology in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

      Nikki forced a giggle out. “No, no, it’s okay, he can ask. But I…I didn’t get it.” Her shoulders slumped and she had to work to keep her emotions bottled up. She was tired of talking about the job hunt and how she kept getting passed over. Seriously, looking for a job had to be the most demoralizing activity on the planet.

      Marty’s face fell. “Oh, really. How come?”

      She shrugged, her hurt feelings rushing forward again. “Well, aside from going off on a really bad Valentine’s Day rant, I don’t have a culinary degree, so that disqualifies me. Again.” She wouldn’t sniff here, just like she wouldn’t clear her throat at Finique. Marty and Trish already felt bad for her. Their defeated posture suggested as much. Perhaps she should return to her hometown. She could work at the diner where her mother had waitressed for three decades, live with her parents, get back on her feet. But the thought of leaving Lakeside for a small town hundreds of miles away made her chest ache.

      “Don’t worry,” Marty said. “I know you’ll get the next one.”

      “I just wish I could open my own place, you know?” Nikki sighed and gazed at them like they’d be able to make her dreams come true. “I mean, I know I’m a good cook, but I’m just not good at convincing others I am.”

      “Well, your food is certainly convincing.”

      “It sure is, all right.”

      A flood of gratitude filled her. She picked up the bag of bread. “Ah, you guys are sweet. Well, thanks again.” She made her way out of the bakery and down the bustling street where restaurants, shops, and boutiques all tried to lure customers into their stores with pretty window displays.

      A couple of blocks down, she found Gus putting up a FOR SALE sign in the window. Not quite the display she wanted to see, and her mood shifted once again. She knocked on the glass, a hearty smile in place for the man who’d given her enough advice to last a lifetime.

      He’d been there on February fourteenth СКАЧАТЬ