Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Not the truth, but easier to explain.
“Nice. Did you do anything with your time off or just veg?”
I hope the warmth crawling up my neck isn’t visible. “Not much. Cooked, cleaned. That kind of thing.”
“Oh yes, you like to cook, you told me. I had a boyfriend once who was a chef. I put on two stone while we were together. I would have ended it months before, but his crème brûlée was out of this world. Can you do that stuff? Crème brûlée? Desserts and things?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’ve made it before. Just followed a recipe I found online.”
“Maybe bring some in for Dr. Newman. That’s what I came to tell you—Dr. Sanders’s assistant, Marigold, is leaving. Moving to France. Her boyfriend bought a place that makes wine—you know, with all the grapes.”
“A vineyard.”
She points at me and then slaps her thigh. “Vineyard. I always forget. It really should be called grapeyard. Anyway, Marigold is leaving. I’m going to apply for her job—she earns more than me. The job is busier and Dr. Sanders is a fucking nightmare by all accounts, but I’ll let it slide off my back, nothing much gets to me. But I was thinking, maybe you can apply for my job. The practice is busier—it’s a permanent role. More money. What do you think?”
I should be delighted.
But my heart actually sinks at her idea. I just want to cook.
“Wow,” I say. “That seems…”
“Perfect, right? You know the setup here, the maintenance guys and stuff. I don’t have to worry about working with a complete cow. It’s a win-win.”
This is fate handing me an opportunity and I can’t bring myself to feel enthusiastic about it. But I have to be practical. “How do I apply?”
“Send me your CV. I’ll have a word with Dr. Newman. As long as I get the Dr. Sanders job—which I will, because Marigold will only show him my CV and then a bunch of shit ones she gets off LinkedIn. Then I’ll get you the job with Dr. Newman and we’ll all be good. Dr. Perfect here will have to find someone new.” She bounces up from her chair. “Brilliant. That’s sorted, then. Obviously don’t tell the agency or Dr. Cove until it’s all lined up.”
“I won’t.” I wonder if it’s perfectly obvious that I’m faking my smile.
She twirls out of my office and I abandon the application to the dental surgery. Jen has got me covered for jobs I don’t want.
Scotland shifted things for me. Being with Zach brought into stark contrast how flawed my relationship with Shane was, and how much of me had withered while I was with him. Even though I knew what my parents and Cynthia had been telling me all those years was true, I’d not seen it—not clearly. Or maybe I hadn’t wanted to really see it, because what would it say about me?
Zach helped me realize it wasn’t my fault.
The understanding ignited something in me. I’ve always known I want to go to Le Cordon Bleu, but now I’m determined and impatient in a way I’ve never been before.
I want to claw back the life I should have had. I deserve that. I’m not going to go from one pan of boiling water and sit idly by in another one.
What I need is a plan to get to Le Cordon Bleu more quickly.
I stand, head over to the door to the waiting room, and lock it. I don’t want Jen coming in here again when I’m not expecting her. I need to focus.
I open Zach’s office door and root about in his desk. It doesn’t take long to find the whiteboard pens I ordered for him. Those and the whiteboard behind his desk are exactly what I need.
It’s time to brainstorm a miracle to get me to Le Cordon Bleu.
I make the list.
Take out a loan, I write first. My head starts to swirl with all the reasons why that won’t work. I don’t have any kind of decent credit rating because for the last decade, every bank account, credit card, and rental agreement was in Shane’s name. I cut myself off. If I focus on all the reasons things won’t work, I’m going to spiral. I just need to keep throwing out ideas.
Win the lottery.
Steal the money.
Convince a billionaire to set up a scholarship I successfully apply for. Le Cordon Bleu in London used to have a Julia Child scholarship but it’s been closed. If Shane had left me for his PR woman a couple years earlier, I might have been in with a shot at that one.
Have someone pay for me.
I take a step back and examine the short list. I can’t get the word “scholarship” out of my head. I’ve checked the website over and over—I even called the London office. There are definitely no scholarships available. In London.