Page 39 of The Chef

He put himself in danger just to disappear on me again.

What is that man thinking?

Does he hate me, or does he like me?

What did the egg-shaped man mockingly call Cliff?

Her knight in shining armor.

13

BAY

That’s it, I’m going to say thank you to Cliff Finn. It’s taken me the rest of the shift to come to that decision, but I’ve made it now and I’m going to stick by it.

I hope he takes it kindly.

After that horrible customer left, the rest of the shift has gone by without a hiccup. I cleaned the broken glass, wiped down the table, and changed shirts. I always keep a spare work one in times of crises like this. I’ve been a waitress for so long that a little spillage of lager over me isn’t the end of the world. It’s not ideal, but I can learn to live with just washing myself down in the bathroom and enduring one or two more hours of the shift.

Cliff hasn’t spoken to me after the incident. He resumed his regularly scheduled sulking and has completely refused to acknowledge me.

But that’s okay, he can’t hide his true side from me anymore.

Maybe Dominika was right when she said she thinks he likes me.

Someone who hates my guts wouldn’t stand up for me the way he did.

Someone who likes me would’ve leaped to my defense.

Someone who hates me wouldn’t have held my hand the way Cliff had done.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m not some kind of damsel in distress, but the chivalrous way that Cliff stood in front of that man and defended me makes my heart jump. It’s a natural instinct when you see such a handsome guy do something completely selfless for you. A guy who you think would never raise a hand to help you but who jumps in between a raised fist and you at the first sign of trouble.

And then he went back to ignoring me.

But I can live with that because I know what he’s really like. He revealed himself to me, whether he wanted to or not.

And I like it.

And that’s why I’ve made the decision, after pondering on it for the rest of my shift, to say thanks to Cliff Finn. To tell him that I appreciate what he did back there, to let him know that I honestly - genuinely – want to thank him for protecting me in the restaurant.

With the end of the shift and decision made, I head downstairs to the restaurant staff room, take my bag, and sneak up towards the manager’s office. The last I saw of Cliff was his muscular frame heading into that room presumably to do some late-night paperwork.

So that’s where I go.

I make it outside the open door to the office when I start to hear voices. All the customers are gone. The rest of the restaurant is empty, the lights are turned off and I’m walking in darkness. But I hear voices coming from the manager’s office.

Cliff and Dominika’s voices.

I pause by the partially open doorway, unable to be seen from inside, and press my ear to the wall to listen.

Yeah, it’s definitely them.

And Dominika’s crying.

“They said it happened this morning,” she’s saying through tears. “He passed away this morning.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I hear Cliff replying, his voice soft and soothing.