Page 1 of The Chef

Prologue

Love.

Sometimes we never see it even when we absolutely should.

We blind ourselves to it, to its possibilities, because we’ve been hurt before. Our past can warp our perceptions of love, make us close our eyes and shut our ears to even the thought, or chance, of it entering our lives.

And then sometimes we see only a small percentage of someone because of our blindness to love. Someone we once thought was an enemy may turn out to be our perfect partner in life. It’s only because of our insecurities that we perceive them to be something they’re not when, in fact, they might be everything our heart is looking for.

Sometimes we don’t listen, or learn, from our heart and what it’s trying to say to us because sometimes it’s easier to create a false fantasy of someone than to expose our emotions. We prefer to make them the villain in our story, rather than see them as the hero we need. It’s easier to hide than to love.

But sometimes you do find that person. Sometimes you do listen to your heart.

Sometimes you do see love.

And that’s when it’s true love.

And you should never let it go.

1

BAY

“Okay, girl. You’ve got this,” I sternly say to my reflection in the car rearview mirror.

Nope. Not working.

I want to laugh. At myself. At my stupid attempt at being so serious and so sure of myself as I gawk in the mirror.

Because, in actual fact, I very much know that I don’t have this.

Not at all.

I’m a joke.

I take in a deep breath and stare down myself in the tiny mirror. My green eyes stare back at me under my brown fringe. My pale skin practically shines in the harsh Australian sunlight, and not in a good way.

Yeah, I really don’t have this.

“Right, you can do this, Bay. Calm and confident, remember?” I squeak at my reflection.

Ha, I don’t remember.

I take a moment to shake out the negative thoughts in my head. Then I take the keys out of the ignition and lean back in the driver’s seat of my second – most probably sixth – hand car. I avoid my reflection and peer out the car’s dirty windows at the main street of town, my focus falling on the bank opposite the parking lot.

The bank. Where I’m heading.

Here we go.

I take in another deep breath.

“You’ve got this,” I whisper to myself, my quivering voice betraying my high levels of insecurity. “In twenty minutes' time, you’ll be walking out of that bank with money in your pocket and one step closer to fulfilling your dreams.”

Oh, I wish.

Okay, it’s time to go in. Now or never. Suck it up, girl.

Enough sitting around in my car pretending to be an 80s self-help guru. After my little performance here in my vehicle, I think we can safely rub that off the list of potential career paths for me.