Page 43 of The Chef

“Can we go in there?” she asks, still tugging at my hand. She’s trying to bring me over to the toy store.

Of course, she is.

She’s attracted to that place every time we’re in this shopping mall like a moth to a flame.

I crouch down so that I’m at her level. Her big eyes stare back at me. “What’s the magic word, Pearl?”

Her mouth hangs open. “Please.”

“Okay, fine.”

Pearl grins at me and I allow her to pull me into the toy store, her feet running as fast as she can go on the slippery floor of the shopping mall.

As we enter the toy store, I stop her from running off. “You’re allowed to choose one toy, Pearl. Only one. You got that?”

“Yes.”

I let her go and she predictably scrambles down the pink princess aisle, overwhelmed with all the choices in front of her. I wouldn’t normally indulge her in a toy, but she’s been extra good with her homework today. We had a full uninterrupted hour sitting down and working through her English textbook without any distractions, so this is her reward.

I just better not tell her dad.

But, sometimes, little cute princesses like Pearl need to be spoilt.

Especially after the past few months she’s had to witness.

I wander around the toy store, checking out the different items on display, and I think back on last night, and my brazen attempt to offer help to Cliff. I hope he does accept it, even though he left in an angry rush. I hope he thinks over my offer. I am a damn good chef, and I know I can bring something to Rockpool. I know I can help him overhaul the menu and bring in the right changes to lure in more customers.

I just want to help.

Hopefully, he will overlook his pride and realize that.

Dominika seems to think so.

She messaged me this morning to say she’s catching a flight later today back to Poland. Cliff bought it for her. I’m happy she gave in and decided that going home is what’s important and not the restaurant. Looking after her family in their grief is her priority right now.

And mine is to help this restaurant.

If only Cliff will let me.

I scan my eyes over the toy displays. Star Wars. Barbies.

And then I see another familiar poster. A film I’ve seen.

The Vindicator Team.

That’s the one that Cliff’s ex-girlfriend’s in, right? The superhero franchise I heard his cousins talking about. I stroll up to the display, observing the different toys laid out. Muscle men and robots with killer lasers. I’ve seen one or two of the films before, a year or so ago. They’re not really my type, too much action and not enough character, but I do see the appeal if you’re into superheroes.

There’s another poster above the display. My eyes flicker to it.

COMING SOON. VINDICATOR WOMAN.

The image is of a tall, slim blonde woman with her hands on her hips. She’s staring out into the distance with a steely look. I skim through the details on the poster, coming to a stop when I see the actress’s name.

Cleo Dash.

I gasp.

That must be Cliff’s girlfriend. That must be her in the poster. She’s that superhero. His cousins weren’t lying, she’s in the new film.