I hand him my ideas for the seasonal menu and he lets out a scoff of disapproval, running a hand through his gray speckled hair as he grabs for the pen I’m holding.Yanking it from my hand with far too much animosity, he begins crossing off ideas.
“No,” he bites out as he draws a harsh line through the first suggestion.“Nope.No way.No.What the fuck were you thinking?”He’s huffing away as he enthusiastically strikes out all but one of my ideas.
He pauses, reading the last one, the pen poised to destroy it, the tip leaving a swelling black blot where he’s left it on the paper.It feels like time is suddenly moving in slow motion, the sound of the ticking clock, loud and ominous as I wait to see what happens.Hours pass, days, lifetimes, while I wait.Okay, I’m being dramatic, it’s only like thirty seconds, but thirty seconds with Roy Langston not speaking is unheard of.He’s either stunned into silence by my genius suggestion or he’s questioning why he hired someone who he thinks is basically the stupidest person on Earth.
“Okay,” he breathes out, the bark still there, but it’s certainly less harsh.“Keep this one.”He shoves the paper back at me and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from showing my excitement.He doesn’t need to see that I’ve been pining away trying to impress him since I started working here.That makes me a total loser.
This damn job is like an abusive relationship.I have got to get the hell out of here.
“I want the completed menu back in the morning,” he now hisses, glaring at me, because he knows I’m working till midnight, and I won’t possibly have the time to finish the menu to his liking unless I work through the night.“I don’t have time for your incompetence, Anna.Get it right this time.”
Like I’ve literally sat around and thought, how can I make this menu so bad that it screams incompetence?How can I make it so bad that I get shamed on a regular basis at my job?I swear he’s an idiot if he thinks I’m not working my ass off.
“Yes,” I reply, hating myself with every yes reply I give.
Set some boundaries, Hannah!
Maybe I should start with telling him my name isn’t Anna, again.But that just feels like a waste of breath.He has zero interest in knowing anything about his employees other than making them work till they hate their life.He’s winning.
I spend the rest of the night doing what I love about my job.Cooking and preparing and presentation of plates alongside the other sous chef, with Roy conveniently missing, which makes doing our job so much easier.
“I gotta find a new job,” I mutter to Curt as the night winds down and we begin cleaning up.
“You say that every single night,” he quips back, shaking his head.
“I have no idea how you’ve lasted six months.I’m pushing three and it feels like I’ve been here for ten years.”I scrub my hands over my face, letting out an exhausted sigh.
“I cry myself to sleep at night,” he says, his words laced with humor, but I can’t help but think there may be some seriousness to them.Not like I haven’t cried myself to sleep after leaving here.
“I have to work on the seasonal menu tonight,” I wail, each word coming out as a desperate cry for help.Not that I expect Curt to help me.He was the only one working on them before I was hired.He’s done his time.
“Oh yes.Good luck.My last one went through six revisions before he finally gave his approval,” Curt admits, and I don’t feel so bad about myself.I’m on revision number four.“My best was three.That night I drank an entire bottle of wine in celebration.”
“I might just end up drinking an entire bottle of wine out of necessity.”
We both laugh a little, but we know not to make it seem like we’re enjoying ourselves at all.If Roy hears us, it will spur him to lose his shit and we’ll end up staying here later than either of us wants to.
We finish up quickly, and scramble out the door without a word, knowing if we leave without talking to Roy, we might actually get home at a decent hour.Not that it matters since I’ll be up working on this damn menu.
I wake up the next morning to my watch vibrating on my wrist.I have no idea what time it is or what time I even went to bed last night.I look down and see my brother’s name popping up on the screen.
“Fuck!”I yell out to the empty room, the word reverberating back at me.
I grab for my phone on the nightstand, answering it with a groggy hello that I know will only annoy Dylan.
“Where are you?”Dylan asks and it’s not that I forgot I was meeting him for breakfast, it’s just that I’ve spread myself a little too thin with all this work shit.Staying up too late and stressing myself out about getting this menu right.
“Sorry, I overslept.I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I answer back, climbing out of bed and attempting to pull on a pair of leggings with one hand as I defend myself to Dylan, the phone now tucked against my shoulder.
“We meet for breakfast every Sunday and for the last three months you’ve been late.Good news, I haven’t even left my house yet,” he teases.
“You’re a jerk,” I spit out.“I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Love you, Hannah,” he calls out in a sing-song voice, making fun of me but still making me smile.
I scramble to get ready, whipping my hair into a knot on the top of my head and brushing my teeth.Dylan’s lucky that I showered last night, or I’d smell like mushroom risotto and seared tuna.
We meet at the same place every Sunday and it’s the one part of my week that I actually enjoy.It sucks that it’s now become sort of a chore, but I don’t want to give it up.Plus, I’m still working on Dylan to try and get me a job at one of the restaurants on the Somerville property.
