I’m thunderstruck. Allie, the woman who’s been on my mind the past few days, is here in my office to interview for the sous chef position.
Caleb is beaming, completely oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between us.
‘Dad, she’s got a magic touch in the kitchen.”
Allie’s cheeks are dusted with a rosy hue, a sight I replace endearing. Is she blushing because of Caleb’s compliment, our awkward predicament, or something else?
The situation teeters on the edge of bizarre. ‘It sounds like you’re quite talented,’ I comment, hoping my tone doesn’t give away my apprehension.
Caleb, ever the enthusiastic son, nods vigorously. ‘Exactly! That’s why I knew she’d be perfect for Savor.’
The small talk continues, though it does little to alleviate the tension. Eventually, Caleb checks his watch and grimaces. ‘Ah, crap. I’ve got to get going. Big day.’
When Caleb leaves, I’m left grappling with a mix of emotions. My office suddenly feels confining. There’s no place to avoid each other’s eyes. I clear my throat, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation.
The silence stretches between us, becoming an entity of its own until Allie breaks the silence with a rush of words. ‘I had no idea you were Caleb’s dad. Honestly, if I’d known, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to come in. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to use my connection with Caleb to get this job. I never got your last name the other night.’
She looks genuinely concerned, which I replace endearing. I chuckle and raise my hand as a way to get her to pause. ‘Allie, I believe you.”
She sighs, and the tension between us eases slightly. ‘And as for what happened between us, let’s just say it has no bearing on your potential role here at Savor. I’m only interested in your talent as a chef.’
Allie lets out a breath she seems to have been holding, allowing herself a tight smile. ‘Thank you. I just want to make sure everything is above board. I’m serious about this job. Cooking is everything to me.’
As the initial awkwardness begins to dissipate, our conversation gradually replaces its way back to the reason we’re both here—to discuss her qualifications for the open sous chef position.
‘About that. I’m curious to know how you approach cooking. What’s your philosophy in the kitchen?’
Allie leans forward and says with confidence, ‘For me, cooking is about connecting with ingredients in a way that brings out their best qualities. I like traditional methods of cooking, but I always put an innovative spin on my food while respecting its origins.’
Her answer strikes a chord with me, reflecting a depth of understanding and respect for the culinary arts. ‘That’s an admirable approach,” I say. “How do you see yourself applying that philosophy here at Savor?’
She smiles, her passion evident. ‘I’ve admired Savor, and I feel I could complement and enhance what you’ve already built here. I’m eager to contribute, to learn from the team, and to push the boundaries of what we can create together.’
Listening to her, I’m struck by her sincerity and dedication despite the unexpected way our paths have crossed again. ‘Let’s talk about your experience at Verde Oliva. Working under Marco’s leadership can’t be easy,’ I comment, trying to gauge her resilience.
‘It’s not, but it’s taught me a lot about myself and how to thrive in high-pressure situations similar to what exists here at Savor,’ she responds.
As we talk more about her culinary expertise and the dishes she’s created that she’s particularly proud of, there’s a subtle shift in the atmosphere between us.
‘Sounds like you bring a lot of creativity to your cooking. I’m sure that would translate well to Savor’s menu.’
The compliment seems to warm her, and she leans in slightly, a playful tilt to her lips. ‘I like to think I bring a little something special to everything I do. Hopefully, that includes my potential role here.’
The banter feels natural and easy despite the high stakes of the conversation. ‘I have no doubt,’ I respond, allowing a touch of flirtation to color my tone. ‘It’s not just about filling a position, after all. It’s about replaceing someone who fits, who adds to the team in a meaningful way.’
Her response is thoughtful, tinged with a lightness that suggests she’s picking up on the shift in our dynamic. ‘I agree,” she says thoughtfully, “and I’m not just looking for any kitchen to join. I’m looking for a place where I can really contribute and make a difference. Maybe even spice things up a bit?’
The double entendre hangs between us, charged and playful. I am impressed not just by her culinary talent but also by her ability to hold her own and remain professional.
‘Spicing things up is sometimes exactly what a kitchen needs. It keeps everyone on their toes and adds a new dynamic to the dishes.’
The ebb and flow of our conversation reveals much about Allie’s culinary passion and her aspirations.
Suddenly, her expression shifts as if there’s a realization dawning that brings an abrupt pause to our banter. She stands and gathers her things with a courtesy that feels more like a prelude to departure than a simple gesture of politeness. ‘Thank you for your time, Patrick. I really appreciate it.’
I’m taken aback, not ready for the meeting to end, especially on such an uncertain note. ‘Why are you leaving?” I ask, my concern genuine.
She hesitates, then meets my gaze with a level of honesty that catches me off-guard. ‘I’m just thinking it might be too awkward working together after … you know.’
The implication hangs heavily in the air, a reminder of our shared night that seemingly neither of us can forget. Acting on impulse, I reach out and rest my hand gently on her arm to halt her retreat.
‘Allie, do you really believe I’d hire you just because we shared one night together? Is that the kind of man you think I am?’
Her eyes lock with mine, searching, weighing my sincerity. ‘No, that’s not what I’m saying. It’s just … complicated.’
I let out a breath, a mix of frustration and regret coloring my tone. ‘Look, I’m not that kind of guy. If all you wanted was that one night, then that’s all it will ever be.”
It kills me to say the words because as I stand there, looking into her eyes, I’m damn sure I want more.
And judging by the way she looks at me, she does, too.
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