AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Morning.” I nod cordially.
His mouth falls open, probably from the undoubtedly heart attack-inducing shock of me not ducking my head and scuttling to the back of the kitchen.
It takes him nearly a full minute to recover.
“Good morning?” he spits. “You saunter in here fifteen minutes late with a hickey on your neck the size of a silver dollar and all you have to say is good morning? The last time I checked, we were in the kitchen for an elite event venue, not a whorehouse.”
I’m not going to lie, that really hurt. The instinct to cower simmers under the surface, but I refuse to let it bubble to the surface.
Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones or the endless support from my parents and my men finally clicking into place (probably both) but I’ll be damned if I let this prick bully me ever again. I’m worth far more than that, and most shocking of all, I believe it with everything I have.
“While you were out somewhere throwing yourself at whoever is stupid enough to have you, all of those cakes on your station have just been sitting there getting stale. Maybe you should start thinking with your brain instead of what’s between your legs and start doing what’s best for the business while you still have a job here.
“Real chefs know that time is money and would never waste their employer's time by showing up late and disheveled. What are you still standing there for? Get your ass to the pastry station.”
“Are you done?” I ask.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“I said, are you done? I don’t let my two-year-old get away with it, so I’m sure as hell not going to be tolerating it from you any longer. At least with my son, the outbursts are developmentally appropriate, so I’m not sure what your excuse is, exactly.”
His face is the color of a beet now.
“How dare you talk to me like that. I am your head chef.”
“Well, according to the example you’ve been setting for the past two to three years, that’s exactly how I’m supposed to talk to people in the kitchen. And for your information, in a normal kitchen, pastry is a different department and the head chef is supposed to collaborate with them on flavors and dishes, not micromanage the shit out of them.”
“Well, I never—you look like—entirely out of line—appalling behavior,” he sputters.
“Like I said, Henri, you set the tone and culture for your kitchen as the head chef. If you don’t want someone to be a dick to you, then you should act like less of one yourself. Oh, and there’s no way the cakes are stale. I baked them yesterday and put them in the freezer where they were supposed to stay until I arrived this morning. Even if there’s something wrong with the cakes—which I highly doubt—it would be because of your passive aggressively putting them out on my workstation rather than my being a little late.
“Speaking of late, if we went by your rules where lateness gets you fired, you would have been gone long before you became a tyrant in this kitchen.
“Just some friendly advice, Boss. If you actually spent time figuring out how to please a woman in the bedroom, you probably wouldn’t be fighting with your wife all the time, which—if I recall—is usually why you’re late and in a piss poor mood every day.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have rapidly thawing cakes to attend to, thanks to you,” I say haughtily.
I sweep across the kitchen like I own the place and start setting up my station without another word.
Henri is catatonic and purple while the other kitchen staff are trying desperately to hide their smiles. The icing on the cake is one very overcome kitchen assistant trying to cover up her giggles with a glaringly obvious fake cough.
I feel so light from venting years of stress from being here with him that I’m not even sure if my feet are touching the ground at this point. Aside from the birth of my son, this might just be the best day of my entire life.
Hands wrap around my waist from behind and give me a brief (but tight) squeeze.
“Girl, it’s about time you put that jackass in his place,” Mia gushes. “I’m so fucking proud of you that if I had the authority to do it, I’d double your pay right now.”
“It wasn’t even that earth shattering a moment.” I laugh. “It probably didn’t even make a dent in his ego, but damn, it felt good.”
“Are you kidding me? Look around. Henri has just stormed out with his tail between his legs to go pout somewhere, and the kitchen is quiet for the first time in years. Not to mention, it’s never felt this peaceful in here before. The vibe has entirely changed, and it’s all because of you.”
I blush at her overwhelming praise to the point where I’m sure I could be a tomato’s doppelganger. I feel good about what I did, but it’s still a little uncomfortable to be praised like this.
“Well, hopefully, it will stick. I doubt that one dressing down will inspire lifetime change, but…” I shrug.
“It’s a start. You stood up to him ,so maybe the next time he tries to pick on someone, they’ll tear him a new one too.”
The thought makes me smile. It really would be nice if I helped people feel empowered enough to stand up to that jerk like I did.
