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Duh. You’re the sandwich dude, remember? That was your whole deal. Simple sandwiches without all that gourmet fuss.
Then what am doing here?
I let out a heavy sigh as I remind myself why I even took this job in the first place.
Because my dad thinks I’m good enough to be here. Because I want to show that I can hold my own in this fine dining world.
I think about all the videos I’ve posted on Instagram as @thesandwichguy. They weren’t fancy or high brow, not even close. But they were delicious. And people loved them. I think of all the comments from people saying how much they enjoy making my sandwiches, how good they taste, how easy my recipes are.
I let out a heavy sigh. Fuck, I miss that. I miss the simplicity of the recipes I came up with. I miss posting on Instagram.
I haven’t had time to come up with my own dishes or film or post on social media much now that I’ve moved and started this new job. I don’t know how I’ll balance both, honestly.
I think about having to give up my Instagram for this job. I just started to take off on social media. If I don’t make the time to start back up again, I’ll lose all the momentum I built over the last couple of months. It’ll be like all that work was for nothing.
My stomach churns. To lose that and Tori?
My head feels heavy as I think about all this.
I drop the rest of the sandwich on the plate, my appetite suddenly gone. I glance around the MGT kitchen. It’s all shiny silver, all stainless steel. Typical high-end restaurant kitchen.
It’s so different from cooking in my own kitchen. And cooking at Tori’s place. I always felt so comfortable there.
I roll my shoulders to stretch out, but that discomfort I’ve felt since walking in here a week and a half ago remains. That feeling of being an outsider, that self-doubt I’ve been holding inside of me ever since I arrived in LA. Will it ever go away?
That discomfort digs deeper into my body, just like the ache in my chest.
As I work the rest of the day, I wonder if I’ll ever feel like I belong here.
Chapter 33
Tori
“This place is perfect, don’t you think?”
I look up at Becca beaming at the empty store space that will be Sweet Cheeks’ second location in Cherry Creek. It’s a bit smaller than the original Sweet Cheeks location, but the setup is nice. There’s a long counter with plenty of space in the back. And the lobby is big enough to hold almost as many customers as our first location.
I try to smile when I answer her. “Yeah, it’s great.”
I can barely hold the smile for two seconds before my lips start to tremble. I quickly look away so Becca doesn’t see.
It’s been two weeks since Tyler and I ended things, and we haven’t spoken since. I’ve been a heartbroken mess since then. I’m able to hold it together during the day while I’m at work. I’m polite and professional to customers. But the second I get home, I lose it. I burst into tears the second I walk through the door of my apartment. I cry on and off while I’m making dinner and getting ready for bed. And when I wake up, I cry a little more and then get ready for work and do it all over again.
Every day Becca checks on me and asks how I’m doing. I always tell her I’m fine, even though I’m not. I don’t want her to worry about me. We just became business partners and I want to be as professional as possible.
Becca touches my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Her blue eyes radiate sadness and concern.
I nod “yes” despite feeling like utter crap. But I don’t want to distract from her happiness at finding this perfect second location.
On top of that, we’re a week away from her wedding. She should be excited and happy and looking forward to marrying Gage, not worried about her heartbroken best friend.
But the way her gaze lingers on me, she can tell I’m lying.
“Oh, Tori.” She pulls me into a hug. I close my eyes and sink into my best friend’s embrace. “I’m sorry.”
Becca knows all about Tyler and me splitting up. I called her the night it happened. She rushed over to console me and I told her everything.
