Page 76 of The Chef

BAY

I’m still in the manager’s office when Cliff’s phone rings. When it does, both of us jump in our seats, surprised by the loud intrusion whilst we work on the finishing touches before the re-opening party.

“It’s Cove and Ripley,” he says, checking his phone. “They’re outside.”

Cliff’s cousin and his wife are the first to arrive at the restaurant.

He heads to the door to let them in and I stand just outside the manager’s office, nervous. The last time I met Cliff’s family was on my first day at Rockpool when I screwed up their order. They probably think me rude, or at least incompetent.

I wonder what Cliff’s told them about me, or whether he has at all.

I scratch at my arm as Cliff unlocks the front door and brings them inside.

It’s still an hour or so before the party’s meant to start, and I’m still finishing printing off all the menus and making sure everything in the kitchen is up to scratch. We’ve hired some temporary chefs to work in there whilst I attend the re-opening, but next week it’ll be me in there amongst the pans and grills.

If tonight goes well.

If everything works out.

Cliff warmly greets his cousin and his wife, then brings them over to me, smiling broadly. I smile back, still so incredibly anxious.

It’s his surfer cousin, Cove, and the American girl.

“This is Cove and Ripley,” Cliff says, introducing us. “This is Bay.”

“Right, Bay,” Ripley replies with her nice American accent. “It’s good to put a name to a face.

“Hi,” I reply, my anxiousness betrayed in my voice.

Bay smiles. “If I remember right, you weren’t that keen on introducing us the other night, Cliff.”

“The other night was… something different,” Cliff tries to explain, his eyes widening as he fumbles for words. Ripley winks at me as he struggles to speak, happy to put him on the spot like this.

I must admit, I like it too.

“Nice to meet you, Bay,” Cove says, offering to shake my hand. His arm is as muscular as Cliff’s. Their athletic frame and popping biceps clearly runs in the family. “Cliff’s told me all about you.”

My eyebrows raise at Cliff. “Has he now?”

Cliff anxiously laughs it off and brushes Cove away. “No, I haven’t.”

Has he actually?

“Yes, you have. All you’ve been doing is talking non-stop about the pretty new waitress.”

Non-stop?

“Okay,” Cliff chuckles, shaking his head in embarrassment. “That’s enough. How about we get a drink at the bar, Cove?”

“See you later,” Cliff’s cousin says to me, smiling a dazzling white smile that runs in the Finn family as he follows Cliff further down the restaurant.

I’m left with Ripley, the brown-hair Natalie Portman-lookalike.

“He’s not lying though,” she says. “Cliff has been talking about you pretty much all the time.”

“Oh, God. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s said.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, placing her arm on mine in a joking reassurance. “It’s all good.”