She cut me off. "Are you clinically insane or just incredibly annoying?"
“Are you going to allow me to apologize to you in person, or you gon’ keep cutting me off?” I asked, raising my voice over hers.
Isa’s petite frame took a defensive stance before she folded her arms across her chest. “Fine. Say what you gotta say. I found my wine, so you have thirty seconds,” she declared before grabbing a wine bottle off the shelf and putting it inside her mini cart.
I scratched the back of my head. “I deserve all the shade you’re throwing.”
“I know you do,” she retorted.
“So, listen, I just wanted to say that we got off to a bad start, and that’s on me. And because of that, I want the chance to change whatever opinion you have in your head about me.”
“I already told you I have all I need.”
“Let me cook for you,” I blurted out my offer.
Her lips twisted. “Excuse me?”
“I’m working on a couple of new signature appetizers for the grand opening. You can ask your questions if you’re interested in being the guinea pig. It’s a win-win. And, if it makes you feel better, you can slap me. Lightly."
She pushed out a laughing huff of air. “Don’t tempt me.”
“C’mon, we can start over. I'll answer whatever you want; let me make it up to you.”
She turned her head sideways to avoid staring straight at me. “Only if you agree to answer my questions. The ones you didn’t allow me to ask during the original interview.”
“I’ll answer whatever you want.”
“Fine. It’s a deal.”
I tilted my head in a yes before offering up a grin. “Bet. See you at the restaurant at eight. I’ll text you the address.”
Isa
I glanced at my watch while listening to the bleep of my items being scanned in the checkout line. It was already 5:15 p.m., which meant I had to race home, shower, figure out what to wear, grab all my necessities for the interview, and mentally prepare myself to be on my game for his obnoxious ass within two hours and forty-five minutes. I’d be damned if he knocked me off my square twice in one day. I’d gone into the first interview so confident; I would die before admitting to him that he’d thrown me for a loop. As much as he was looking at a second interview as his redemption, I was looking at it as my own. I was a goddamn professional, after all.
As I walked down the sidewalk to the front door, I pulled out my phone to announce my arrival via text. The large glass door swung open, and Elijah greeted me with a smile. He looked like trouble. You know, the type to be in detention in school and in jail everywhere else. He was sporting a crisp, white chef coat with Elijah Stone written in embroidery and black jeans with cut-out holes in the knees. His short-sleeved coat showed off the tattoos etched on his arms down to his wrists, including one with a chef hat and knives. On the other hand, I was dressed from head to toe in all black, from my one-shoulder ribbed knit blouse down to the Gucci belt around my waist, black high-waisted jeans, and black velvet pumps.
“You made it.”
“Yup, I’m here.”
“Come in. I’ll give you a tour before we get started.”
“Cool,” I said, stepping past him. The inside smelled like a mix of new construction and a home-cooked meal.
“You didn’t have to change clothes, y’know?” he commented.
I disagreed. “Nope. You caught me slippin’ in the grocery store. I had no other option but to come correct here. Plus, I like to dress like a professional when I do professional shit.”
“I can dig it.”
Elijah showed me the main seating area, stainless steel industrial-sized kitchen, and the rooftop bar with a sitting area reserved for private parties. The chandeliers and candlelight gave it a down-home feeling, but the modern paintings, decor, and seating gave it an upscale feel. On the rooftop, I followed him to the bar and looked up at the sky. The sky had almost fully transitioned from its pinkish-orange hue to the night sky dusted with stars and a bright, crescent moon.
“It’s beautiful here. Inside and out,” I complimented the restaurant.
He dipped his bearded chin in a nod. “Thank you. Are you glad you came yet? This is an exclusive right here.”
“The verdict is still pending on that,” I admitted with a lazy shrug.