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But Mike likes to play it safe. Like me, he doesn't take risks.The difference?I doubt some part of him is eager to break away from that chain and plunge into a world of recklessness. I doubt anyone has ever told him:You frighten me. I believe there is a wildness in you that can never be tamed, no matter how much you pretend or choose to pretend it's not there.I don't argue with Mike. I wave goodbye to him and move fluidly into the next building. It's a simple 2-story building for the restaurant's staff who can't afford a home of their own. It's mostly the women that lodge in it. It's one of the best things about the Mano Cuisine; they always put their staff into consideration. I would have rated it a 100, but they have decided to keep firing members of their staff every day.
Quietly, I make my way up the flight of stairs, holding on to the metal banister. The lobby is dark; the electricity must be out again. We have a security man that should be roaming around somewhere in the dark. He doesn't have to do much, just make sure we all live through our crazy disagreements.
My room is on the second floor, the very first door by the left. There is light (possibly from flashlights) streaming through most of the doors, while others are dark, their occupants having surrendered to sleep; their bodies exhausted from all the work they had to do through the entire day.
When I get to the door, I don't knock because I know Maya will groan in irritation if I do. Although she will stagger to the door and open up if I persist. She adores sleep like a little child adores a candy.
I already know the image I will see when I walk in—Maya sprawled on the bed with her jet-black hair wild around her like a medusa. Her long ballet-dancer worthy legs will be spread apart in reckless abandon on her bed. I will force my eyes to look away from her provocative state because she likes to sleep naked.
I wonder if I can ever reclaim the boldness that Mrs. Fox has beaten out of me. Two years of being roommates, and I still haven't gotten comfortable with the ungodly sight of Maya's style of sleeping.
Before I go to sleep, I allow myself the pleasure of imagining once again what it would feel like to have Mike grab me without permission and place a rough, breathtaking kiss on my mouth. I imagine us living in a castle with me chained to his throne while he wraps his hand around my hair and drags me to his…
No, I'll just go to sleep now.
Such thoughts aren't healthy for me. I am happy as I am. I love Mike and I accept him the way he is.
You couldn't have had anything better than this, Emily Smithson.
I am only 20, and I have a job that I love, a home, a friend, and a lover who I plan to build a future with.
Call it shallow or whatever you wish, but it's perfect for me. It's better than going back to that judgmental foster care home.
Three weeks after my meeting with Mike, another note is tucked into the pocket of my apron. I look up and see Kester, Mike's younger brother, who works as a waiter in the restaurant, and give him a kind smile.
I won't term him our delivery boy, but so far, that's what he has proven to be since Mike's and my relationship has become the popular topic of conversation among the restaurant staff. Mike supplies vegetables and spices to the restaurant. Most of the time, he is out in the city, haggling with farmers and sorting out good harvests from rotten heaps. For this reason, he hardly graces me with his presence. He considers me a distraction for him during working hours. I'm too busy to even notice him hovering around the storerooms anyway because my attention is on preparing the meals. I am only ever free at night to speak with him when he has to supply the kitchen. Even when we do not see each other physically, the notes are his way to remind me that he craves to see me.
Chapter Two
Emily
Meet me by the lake at 7 o'clock. I'll be wearing a yellow cashmere. I am sorry, pumpkin.
I almost laugh out loud when I read his words. He knows how much I can't stand the color yellow.
"Oh, Emily. You both need to be saved. You, my friend, have finally gone insane over a man." Maya is peering down at my hands again, searching for the note which is meant for my eyes only. Maya loves to poke her nose in our relationship, only because she simply can't wait for one of us to declare our boredom with each other.
"You have never been in love, Maya. Don't be jealous," I taunt her. She pretends to barf.
Sebastian catches the action from the entrance of the kitchen and barks at her.
She apologizes quickly and widens her eyes at me, turning her back to Sebastian while we both struggle to keep our snickering silent.
"Whatever. Trust me, I have only ever wanted the best for you. Mike is great, I know, but the problem is you, Emile. Something is up, but you don't wannaadmit it. Don't worry, Detective Maya will figure you out," Maya says after a long silent moment of standing by the grilling machine together.
Veronika walks by whistling an unfamiliar song. She briefly wags her fingers in our faces. "You will achieve nothing if you spend your entire day thinking of men."
"Here we fucking go," Maya groans, and I laugh, satisfied that I have their company to keep me from doubting if I am truly in the mood to see Mike that day. Nevertheless, I decide to spice it all up, to create a little excitement. We can't be totally boring as Maya claims. When I am sure that Sebastian is out of the kitchen, I glide to Stephen and convince him to save me a slice of chocolate cake from a customer's request. He grumbles, but he agrees and promises to do that before I leave.
Then I try to push all thoughts of romance and passion away and focus on work for the rest of the day. I fail at this, because between my tasks, I glance at the clock, hoping it will spin faster and take us to 6 o clock, when I will hand over my kitchen duty to another chef, or perhaps I am just anxious to get it all over with. See him, fulfill a duty, and head back to my normal routine.
Today, I will have enough time to hurry to the staff quarters, take a quick shower, return to the restaurant, and give Maya the keyto our room. She lost her spare, recently, during one of her club party adventures in town.
Then Maya will kiss my cheeks. Sebastian will be hovering around, and Maya will resume cursing beneath her breath. I will next wave goodbye to Daniel the butcher, then I will hurry past the storerooms, eager to be rid of the rush of being a chef. I will float into the night, saying goodnight to Veronika as I hurry away—it's really all just the same routine.Whether I am going to see Mike or not!
What have I been doing with my life! How do I even enjoy this?
Relax, Emily.I have no doubts. I am excited to see Mike. Yes, it's a routine, but after three or four hectic weeks, I get to see him. At least this time I have a slice of cake saved for us, carefully placed in a paper bag because Maya couldn't find the appropriate container.
