while staring at Gray—not in annoyance or appreciation, but in more of a silence contemplation kind of way—as she waits for his response.
“Yeah, Tobes,” I mock dryly, watching as my best friend turns her head to me, eyeing me as if I’ve grown a dick on my nose. The man in question sets his drink down, his jaw clenching a little while he directs all his animosity to me instead of Francis. These two are a goddamn handful, and I barely know either of them.
“Well,” he starts and then lets out a heavy exhale. “I’m here because Mi Casa in Hollow Ridge needs a chef.” It’s not explanatory to either at the table. But to me? The chef in question. It’s a big fucking deal. That’s who he is? Tobias Hayes, owner of all twenty Su Casa locations and their sister restaurants? Wow. He’s much bigger than I gave him credit for. I’m absolutely shocked and hope it doesn’t appear that way on my face.
“What are you supposed to do?” she asks, making me slowly scoop potatoes in my mouth to seem busy and not nosy as hell. My fork clinks as his next words escape those stupid heart-shaped pillow lips.
“Just ask little Sous over here. She’s the new chef.”
All heads turn to me, but it’s Francis’s expression that takes my breath away. His nostrils are flared, the vein in his forehead seems larger and more pronounced as though it’s as pissed off with me as the man himself. If diamonds could be cut with teeth, the grinding of his molars would turn them to dust. I hadn’t had the chance to inform him of my new job... not that it’s his business or that I knew Toby was his so-called best friend. This is so stupid.
The silence envelops us like a bubble of stale club air. It’s unappealing, unpleasant, and definitely unnecessary, but here we are. I’m not sure what to say, so I swallow and bite the inside of my cheek. After several long and awkward minutes, I cross my arms, feeling the utmost uncomfortable sensation of eyes on me. It’s not something that appeals to anyone of my solitude-loving caliber, but it doesn’t seem to matter.
Folding my arms to give myself some semblance of peace, I hear someone—Gray—clear their throat.
“You didn’t tell me Uncle Tobes hired you,” she muses, but behind the soft words is hurt and betrayal. Is that information so vital to both her dad and herself? Why does it matter? I don’t even remember taking the job. If anything, it was a fuck you to the rich go-getters and schmoozers like my parents. It wasn’t intentional for me to get selected like a whore for the taking to become some chef. Now that I know it’s for Mi Casa, I’m absolutely thrilled. Having that on my resume will change my life, no doubt.
“Honestly, I don’t recall that night much. Didn’t seem pertinent enough information,” I nearly spit, hating the way it sounds escaping my lips. Toby’s glare makes the hair on my nape rise, and the fact that I can feel him and his emotions is more telling than the fact that him being upset has me giddy.
“It should. This is your livelihood. I’d think it matters,” Toby chastises, shaking his head at me. My heart races with the disappointing tone. Well, shit luck. He doesn’t own me, my personality, or how I react to anything.
I take the napkin off my lap, wiping my mouth before standing up. No words are shared between us. Gray looks confused, Francis is silently raging, and Toby won’t look at me. These people, for as much as they call themselves family, they don’t act like it. If anything, they seem as if they’re almost strangers. Besides me, there’s something deeper going on here. It’s more than what I’ve walked into. It has something to do with what Francis won’t tell me, what Gray refuses to accept, and whatever has Toby stiffening whenever Lo and Jase are brought up.
Whatever they shared before I came into this home stifles the room with a bubble of discomfort. One I have no intention of sticking around to experience along with them. I have enough baggage myself; there’s no reason to carry more or continue this charade.
It’s clear that I’m not welcome.
Whatever.
Even though I don’t feel like being polite, like the lady Mom and Dad raised me to be, I tuck in my chair, bow my head a little, then practically rush from