Page 95 of The Chef

I need a moment to wrap my head around this.

Cliff’s rejecting Cleo.

He’s rejecting her for me?

There’s a lump in my throat.

I knew it. I knew our relationship was stronger than his past, stronger than my fears, stronger than any obstacle set in our way.

But before I can truly comprehend what this means, I hear shoes scraping the floor. Someone’s storming towards the office door and coming straight for me.

I stand up and take a step back, pretending I’ve just walked into the restaurant. I don’t want to appear suspicious.

Cleo slams open the door and rushes into the main part of the restaurant. Seeing me, her face turns into a violent snarl. She glares at me up and down as if I’m a rodent in her way, and then brushes past me towards the exit.

Even with her disgusted look, I have a feeling that something’s changed in the air between us in those brief moments she passes me on the way out. She’s no longer the untouchable superstar and I’m the lowly waitress, instead, it’s like the tables have turned on us. She’s lost something now. I’m somehow above her.

And it’s all to do with Cliff.

With Cleo gone in a huff, I rush into the manager’s office. I’m breathless. My body’s on fire inside. My mouth is dry.

I need to see him.

“Bay?” Cliff’s face is a mixture of surprise and relief at the sight of me. And something else. Something like… joy.

“Cliff.”

“What are you doing here?”

I’m so overcome with energy that I let out everything in one long unbroken string of words. I can’t help myself. “I’ve overheard what you two were talking about. I’m sorry, I just entered, and I heard voices. I heard the end of what you were talking about and then she… Cleo’s left.”

Cliff nods slowly. “She has.”

“I overheard it all.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

I see Cliff’s eyes fill with tears. I’ve never seen this kind of emotion from him. He leaps towards me, across the office, and takes me in his arms, hugging me close against his firm chest. I’m overcome by his sudden embrace. It was surprising, but so, so welcome. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m sorry for saying what I said. I’m sorry for even contemplating selling Rockpool. I’m sorry for even speaking to her.”

He's speaking the truth.

“No, Cliff,” I reply into his shoulder pressing against me. “I’m sorry for being so out-of-control. I was just afraid of losing you.”

“I’ve been afraid too. Afraid of losing you as well.”

“And what about this place?” I ask.

“Heck, I’m still afraid of losing this restaurant.”

“I’m afraid of that too, but we can just work hard. We can do this, together.”

“But I’m not afraid of one thing,” Cliff says, his voice rising. “I’m not afraid of what I feel anymore. Bay, I love you.”

I gasp.

I knew, deep down, that was true.