Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,11

in the kitchen as a kid, and then during my middle school years I had become obsessed with cooking shows, to the point my parents had sent me to a junior chef summer camp. But then in high school, after both my mom and my dad passed away, I had thought I wanted to be an actress. It had seemed like a great outlet for my overabundance of emotions. I was a girl who bottled up her negative feelings and then exploded for the dumbest reason ever.

Acting had given me a voice. Along with a way to avoid the memories of cooking with my parents.

But trying to succeed in the entertainment business had meant nothing but rejection and poverty. There are only so many auditions you can go on before you start to think the universe is telling you something. When my grandmother had passed away when I was twenty-two after a brief fight with ovarian cancer, I’d lost my desire to be front and center on stage. I wanted all my memories back, to when life was easy and good and my parents were around to love me. So I’d returned to my first love– cooking.

It had taken me years to get to the position of respect and responsibility I had and I would be an idiot to walk away from Bone. It had become a place of stability and happiness for me, with people I really cared about and I wasn’t going to lose that.

But I wasn’t sure I had it in me to take orders from a guy who drove me that insane. I would need all my zen and then some.

My phone notification dinged. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced down at it.

It was a text from Sean. We’d been given his number by management and likewise he had gotten mine.

We should get together. We need to work out a few things. Drinks tonight?

I made a face. That was the last thing in the world I wanted to do.

“Sean wants to meet for drinks,” I announced.

“Like a date?” Dakota asked, sounding gleeful.

“No! To talk about our work environment.” Which was going to suck. There was no way around it. I knew I couldn’t look for another job without Nico and Sid finding out about it. That was the way it was in the industry– everyone knew everyone on some level and people talked. I’d have to quit first before I started shopping around for a new position.

I didn’t want to leave the restaurant that I felt at home in. I had worked with the previous chef to get Bone on the map. The staff were my friends and I didn’t want to be pushed out of my turf.

My rent had just been raised eight percent. Which doesn’t sound like much but trust me, in Brooklyn that’s a substantial chunk of change when your rent is already stupid high. I had a studio because I didn’t want roommates anymore (I’m not easy to live with, I can admit to that), so I was on the hook for a hefty rent. I can’t say that I had exactly prepared for a period of unemployment. My savings account wasn’t well padded. Quitting my job would be a financial disaster as well as emotionally difficult.

One I was almost willing to take because… Sean Kincaid and his smug face. Ugh.

“Sean does grow on you,” Felicia said, trying to be encouraging.

“Like mold?” I asked dryly as I stared at his text message.

Damn it. I was going to have to say yes. I needed to establish that he wasn’t going to be the big man in the kitchen with me. I was his peer, no matter what title he had been given.

“Don’t do something impulsive,” Savannah said. “You’re always telling me not to be impulsive. You need to take your own advice.”

There was nothing worse than having friends who knew you so well they could throw your advice back in your face when you least wanted them to.

Sully toddled over to me and grabbed at my phone. I gave it to him, knowing it would be returned with baby drool on it. But his little round face was too cute to resist.

“I hate that you’re right,” I said to Savannah, frowning.

“Did you just say I’m right?” she asked, looking very pleased with that fact.

Okay, so I might be known as the hard-ass in my friend group. That was probably true. But I didn’t trust people. I’d been given too many