“I'm serious, Arisa. Your brother never gave me money to hire you. That's not how it went down.”
“Oh, so you're admitting that I'm not a genuine hire?”
“No, that's not what I mean.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tip my chin into my chest. “Look, the truth is yes, I've known your brother for years. Long before he started his liquor business and I had my restaurant. That's true, we're friends.”
“All right, you've known him for years. Tell me how that doesn't explain why you hired me so easily. Tell me that he played no role in you giving me my job. Cheryl—”
“Cheryl doesn't know what the hell she's talking about. She's jealous of you, can't you see that?” Arisa folds her arms, tucking her hands against her ribs. “Look, the truth is I did owe your brother. I owed your brother big time. He saved my ass.”
“Okay, so I'm an indebted hire. You owed my brother a favor and here I am. That makes me feel so much better. It really changes things, makes me feel like I earned it alright.”
“No,” I say, letting out a long breath. “Look, years ago when my father was still alive, your brother and I were at his restaurant. I was working, and your brother came in to grab dinner. Your brother saved my ass, Arisa. This drunk guy was mouthing off and getting really aggressive. He tried to attack me, but your brother jumped in and stopped the guy. The cops got called and the guy tried to say that I assaulted him. Luckily your brother was a witness and was able to validate my story.”
“That's it? He saved you from some drunk asshole, so you gifted me a job?”
Groaning under my breath, I rake my hand through my hair. “He stopped me from getting arrested and possibly charged with assault. I wouldn't be where I am today if he hadn't done that. My father would probably have lost his restaurant because of legal garbage, and I'd never be able to work in this town again, let alone own my own restaurant.”
“This isn't making me feel any better. This job is still fake, I didn't earn it. I want to earn what I get, not have it given to me on false pretenses.”
“That's where you're wrong. You did earn this. You earned all of it. Your brother asked me to give you a chance, and I agreed. But he didn't do it because he thought you couldn't do it for yourself. He did it because he knew you belonged there. I offered to give you a chance, and you showed me what he already knew. You showed me that you’re an amazing chef. That you deserve to be by my side. That you deserve a pedestal to stand on, because you're a rising star.”
Her eyes dance around mine, lips crinkled in thought. “Really? You really think I belong there?”
“Why do you think you're the one I chose as my sous chef and not Cheryl? It has nothing to do with me owing your brother a damn thing, and everything to do with you showing me how amazing you are.”
“I just—”
“You just let some girl get in your head and make you think things that weren’t true. Stop listening to other people and go with what you feel. Do you feel like you don't belong there?”
“No,” she says softly.
“Do you feel like you don't deserve it?”
“No.”
“Do you feel like I gave it to you blindly?”
“No.”
“Do you feel like you want leave?”
“No. I don't feel any of those things at all. I feel like I belong there, it feels right.”
“Then don't leave. Don't leave because someone told you something that wasn't true. Because I don't want you to go. I want you there. I want you by my side. I can't go a second without thinking about you. You're on my mind all day and night. It doesn't matter what I'm doing; cooking, sleeping, watching television, you're all I can think about.”
She cocks her head and peers up at me. Her eyes are still glossy, but they're clear as day. “You really mean what you're saying right now?”
“I do. I mean it with every ounce of my soul. I don't want to lose you, at the restaurant or in my life. Just the thought of it kills me.” I reach out and take her hands, pulling her in closer. “So, will you stay?”
Her eyes flick between mine as she inhales a couple deep breathes. “Yes, I'll do it, I'll stay.”
I scoop her in my arms and pull her in close. “You're what I need, Arisa. I really mean that.” My hands sweep up, capturing her face.
Arisa exhales a sharp breath, her hands clasping around my wrists as she stares into my eyes. Her thumbs rub back and forth, sending electric pops up my arms. My stomach knots up tight as I lick my lips.