“So,” Peter remarks, “tell me more about you, honey. I know you love fried chicken and that you graduated from the Culinary Institute. I also know that you were at City Girls, despite being there under false pretenses.”
I wipe my mouth and put my fork down, smiling impishly. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, I already know you’re bold and have a sassy streak,” his says, eyes lighting up with a mischievous smile, “Which I’m very attracted to, if you hadn’t already figured that out. But I want more. Tell me everything. Where do you live? What do you do for fun?”
I giggle.
“Well, for starters, I’m not exactly a chef. I mean, I trained as a chef, but I’d hardly call what I do at Bad Burger being a chef. It’s more like a line cook, which is really sad. I slap together burgers and fries all day, and then squirt ketchup into little ramekins for our guests.”
Peter looks startled.
“Really?”
I nod.
“Sadly, there’s a glut of people looking for high-end culinary jobs these days. As a result, I’m still searching for a position as a real chef where I can put my skills to use, while creating my own menus and running a kitchen. It’s tricky.”
But Peter merely looks thoughtful.
“Your current job doesn’t define you, Angie. If you’re a chef, then that’s what you are no matter how you earn your paycheck. It just takes time. I mean, look at me. I started with the Two-Bit Casino and Motel,” he says with a grin.
I pause for a minute and just stare at this handsome man. My heart swells with gratitude because I needed to hear those words. My grandmother has tried to assure me of the same thing, but she’s family and family has to say stuff like this. But Peter doesn’t owe me anything, so listening to him articulate the same idea means a lot. It brings me a sense of relief I hadn’t realized I needed until right now because he’s right. Bad Burger is just a stepping stone, but it doesn’t diminish my accomplishments, nor the fact that I am a professionally trained chef who’s talented in the kitchen.
“Thanks,” I murmur in a shy voice. “I appreciate that.”
“No problem, honey,” he nods. “But why are you surprised?”
I take a deep breath.
“I guess I’d really let the lack of job prospects get to my head, and it helps to hear encouragement from someone other than my grandmother, May.”
He nods.
“Well, it’s true, and your grandmother sounds like a smart lady.”
I smile wide. “She is. She’s the best person I know. She raised me since I was young and lost my mother, and actually, we still live together in an apartment on the far west side of the city. Even though I like to say I’m taking care of her now, I know it’s more like we’re taking care of each other.”
Peter nods thoughtfully.
“It sounds like you’re lucky to have each other then.”
“Yes, definitely.” I look down at the table, but the handsome man doesn’t let me avoid his gaze for long. He reaches over and lifts my chin with a gentle finger.
“Tell me what just crossed your mind, sweetheart. You looked so happy talking about your grandmother, but something changed in the space of a second. You seem sad now.”
I sigh as tears fill my eyes. “May has asthma, that’s all, and whenever I think about it, it gets me down. It’s pretty bad and her medicine is very expensive, and that’s why I answered the City Girls ad. And why I agreed to be with you, even after I realized what the job entailed. You made it possible for me to stock up on her medicine, and I guess … well, I want to thank you for that,” I finish in a trembling voice.
Peter is out of his chair and moving over next to me in an instant. He presses his hand to my face and gently wipes away a tear I hadn’t even noticed had escaped. “Nobody should ever be without the medicine they need to survive,” he growls. “If you ever think your grandmother is going to run out of her medicine again, I want you to let me know right away, and I’ll make sure she has whatever she needs. Same goes for you. Whatever you need, just let me know.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to--” But my gorgeous date silences me, gently rubbing his thumb over my lips before leaning in to place a soft kiss to my mouth. It’s tender, and I relax into his touch, knowing that this man will take care of me.
“I mean it, Angie. I want to ensure your grandmother’s health so you don’t have to worry anymore. Do you want me to call my personal doctor to make sure she always has enough refills? Let me do this for you, honey.”