a daughter. But as a substitute daughter, she didn’t get an ounce of leniency that a simple employee got. If she screwed up, she heard about it. At volume. Then they’d work through the issue and make sure it didn’t happen again. There were no personal insults or threats of dicks being cut off. They were family.
Still, on days when Bill patted her hand and rejected yet another of her suggestions, Shaye wondered about the dark side. Could she leave everything and everyone behind for an opportunity of a lifetime?
Like that would ever happen.
She sighed as they rounded a bend, their footsteps crunching on gravel. Oban’s few streetlamps and the ferry wharf’s outside lights to their left cast enough shadows aside to allow her to switch off her flashlight.
“So, what’s it like, working at Cosset ?”
“Hard—back-breaking hard. You’re pushed to your limits each night, but it’s an electrifying atmosphere to work in.” Del switched off his headlamp and stuffed it into his pocket.
Their steps slowed to a stroll while their eyes adjusted to the sliver of moonlight and the spread of stars overhead. He definitely wasn’t telling her everything.
“Sounds like the abridged version.”
“It is.”
“You’re not going to tell me what it’s really like?”
“Why? Thinking of moving to LA?”
Chef training in Invercargill had been challenge enough for the scared, twenty-one year old she’d been almost four years ago. “I don’t think Hollywood’s quite my scene.”
“There’s always New York, London, Paris. I’ve heard cruise ships are great if you’ve the urge to visit lots of different places.”
Cruise ships? Nuh, uh. “Boats are not my thing.”
She shrugged, glancing past him to the slow wash of white water surging over the sandy beach. In summer, she swam in the shallows close to shore, which didn’t bother her too badly. And not using the ferry as a means of transport was silly—and costly. So what if she avoided most outings on Ben’s boat, and she’d scuba-dive with her siblings when imps ice-skated in hell?
Farther along the road running alongside the arc of Halfmoon Bay, Due South’s outside lights glowed like beacons in the velvet darkness. Nearly there. Just another five minutes of small talk.
“You think I could work in New York or London?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen you pushed to your limits, so I’ll reserve judgment.”
“I work well under pressure.”
“Due South is a fucking cakewalk compared to Cosset and kitchens like it. No offence.”
If he predicted her reaction would be denying and defensive, he’d be disappointed.
“None taken,” she said.
His footfalls slowed, and then stopped. He leaned his forearms on the foreshore railing and gazed out over the bay. She could’ve kept walking. Could’ve said a quick goodnight and scurried away to the safety of her room. But Del had some serious gravity, and he drew her to his side to lean where he leaned, to stare where he stared. Pewter moonlight dancing over the moored boats and the shifting tide was one view she’d never tire of.
“Sometimes, those bright city lights show up a whole cesspool you gotta learn to stay afloat in.” The toe of his running shoe scuffed at a pile of sand blown onto the road. “You think you’ve learned to swim, when really you’ve just been keeping your head above the shit.”
A vast emptiness hollowed his voice, a weariness she’d expect from a much older man. Del was three years her senior. Right now, the difference in their ages felt more like three decades.
“Was it hard deciding to leave LA and come here?”
“Yes and no.”
One lazy wave after another hissed ashore. She swiveled toward him, but his features were a blank mask. “You want to expand on that a little?”
The white sliver of his teeth flashed. “Now that would mean having a heartfelt conversation. I didn’t think you were interested in socializing with me outside of the
Still, on days when Bill patted her hand and rejected yet another of her suggestions, Shaye wondered about the dark side. Could she leave everything and everyone behind for an opportunity of a lifetime?
Like that would ever happen.
She sighed as they rounded a bend, their footsteps crunching on gravel. Oban’s few streetlamps and the ferry wharf’s outside lights to their left cast enough shadows aside to allow her to switch off her flashlight.
“So, what’s it like, working at Cosset ?”
“Hard—back-breaking hard. You’re pushed to your limits each night, but it’s an electrifying atmosphere to work in.” Del switched off his headlamp and stuffed it into his pocket.
Their steps slowed to a stroll while their eyes adjusted to the sliver of moonlight and the spread of stars overhead. He definitely wasn’t telling her everything.
“Sounds like the abridged version.”
“It is.”
“You’re not going to tell me what it’s really like?”
“Why? Thinking of moving to LA?”
Chef training in Invercargill had been challenge enough for the scared, twenty-one year old she’d been almost four years ago. “I don’t think Hollywood’s quite my scene.”
“There’s always New York, London, Paris. I’ve heard cruise ships are great if you’ve the urge to visit lots of different places.”
Cruise ships? Nuh, uh. “Boats are not my thing.”
She shrugged, glancing past him to the slow wash of white water surging over the sandy beach. In summer, she swam in the shallows close to shore, which didn’t bother her too badly. And not using the ferry as a means of transport was silly—and costly. So what if she avoided most outings on Ben’s boat, and she’d scuba-dive with her siblings when imps ice-skated in hell?
Farther along the road running alongside the arc of Halfmoon Bay, Due South’s outside lights glowed like beacons in the velvet darkness. Nearly there. Just another five minutes of small talk.
“You think I could work in New York or London?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen you pushed to your limits, so I’ll reserve judgment.”
“I work well under pressure.”
“Due South is a fucking cakewalk compared to Cosset and kitchens like it. No offence.”
If he predicted her reaction would be denying and defensive, he’d be disappointed.
“None taken,” she said.
His footfalls slowed, and then stopped. He leaned his forearms on the foreshore railing and gazed out over the bay. She could’ve kept walking. Could’ve said a quick goodnight and scurried away to the safety of her room. But Del had some serious gravity, and he drew her to his side to lean where he leaned, to stare where he stared. Pewter moonlight dancing over the moored boats and the shifting tide was one view she’d never tire of.
“Sometimes, those bright city lights show up a whole cesspool you gotta learn to stay afloat in.” The toe of his running shoe scuffed at a pile of sand blown onto the road. “You think you’ve learned to swim, when really you’ve just been keeping your head above the shit.”
A vast emptiness hollowed his voice, a weariness she’d expect from a much older man. Del was three years her senior. Right now, the difference in their ages felt more like three decades.
“Was it hard deciding to leave LA and come here?”
“Yes and no.”
One lazy wave after another hissed ashore. She swiveled toward him, but his features were a blank mask. “You want to expand on that a little?”
The white sliver of his teeth flashed. “Now that would mean having a heartfelt conversation. I didn’t think you were interested in socializing with me outside of the
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