The Second Chance Year
Melissa Wiesner
About the Author
For all three of my wonderful moms, Gloria, Sharon, and Lynn.
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Author’s Note
This book contains scenes of sexual harassment in the workplace, which may be difficult subject matter for some readers. Please know that I did my absolute best to treat this topic with sensitivity.
Chapter 1
December
If the last year of my life were a season of the Great British Bake Off, I would’ve been sent home on the first episode. My performance in the signature challenge would’ve left the judges shaking their heads, my technical bake would’ve ended up raw in the middle, and my showstopper would’ve collapsed in a heap of gingerbread and shame.
So, when New Year’s Eve of my Very Bad Year rolls around, all I want to do is sit on the couch with a bowl of buttercream icing in my lap and an episode of The Golden Girls on TV. But my best friend, Kasumi, has other plans.
“Come on, Sadie, it will be fun.”
I peer at Kasumi from beneath the ball cap I’ve been wearing because I haven’t washed my hair in three days. “Nothing that starts with ‘come on, it will be fun’ is ever fun.”
“This will be, I promise.” She snatches the plaid blanket I’ve wrapped around myself like a fluffy layer of fondant and throws it on the chair where I can’t reach it.
“Hey,” I protest, half-heartedly making a grab for it. Kasumi is just jealous because that blanket is my new best friend. We’ve been hanging out almost exclusively for months. We were going to paint each other’s nails and have a pillow fight later.
Kasumi plops down on the other end of the couch. “My friend Devon rented an empty warehouse that he’s turning into a giant New Year’s Eve carnival. Picture acrobats hanging from the ceiling, magicians sawing people in half, and cotton candy cocktails. It will be epic.”
“You lost me at carnival. You know how I feel about clowns.” I open my phone to find an email about another pastry chef job that went to someone who isn’t me, and my shoulders droop. “My New Year’s plans include sitting on this couch and reading my rejection letters.” I click over to Instagram, the only thing that can make me feel worse. “If I’m really feeling festive, I might creep on Alex’s social media to obsess over the new woman he’s dating.”
Kasumi’s face softens. “Oh, honey. You need to stop torturing yourself. At least quit following Alex on Instagram. Nothing good can come of this.”
She’s right, of course. It’s been months since my boyfriend, Alex, and I broke up. But we were together for three years, and I thought it would be forever. But now he’s on a tropical island with a pretty blond woman who looks fantastic in a bikini. And I’m… well, I’m eating Nutella straight from the jar. I mean, I have some standards; at least I’m using a spoon. But it’s impossible not to feel gutted that Alex has moved on with his life while I clearly… haven’t.
“I’m worried about you, Sadie. I can’t remember the last time you went in the kitchen and baked something. Your relationship with this couch is growing deeply dysfunctional. Come to the party,” Kasumi urges. “It will get you out of this rut. And I’ll splash it all over Instagram to show Alex that you’re not sitting home wallowing.”
I eye her black tulle skirt, suspenders, and sparkly red-and-white–striped T-shirt. “I don’t have anything to wear to a New Year’s carnival costume party.” When I lost my job as a pastry chef and had to move out of my apartment, I packed up almost everything I owned and had my brother, Owen, haul it out to Gotham Storage in Flatbush. For the past three months or so, I’ve been working as a barista, and I live in black T-shirts and jeans that hide the coffee stains.
“I knew you’d say that.” Kasumi tosses her dark hair over her shoulder and grabs a tote bag from behind the couch. She dumps out the contents—sparkly gold minidress with a poufy A-line skirt, cropped red blazer, and sequined black top hat—flashing me a grin.
The thing is, a year ago, I would have loved a carnival-themed party with an over-the-top outfit. But that was before Xavier, my former boss and the executive chef of one of the most exclusive restaurants in town, threw one of his epic tantrums over some bad p?té and screamed at a line cook. I’d stepped in because honestly, it was p?té, not world peace hanging in the balance. If the p?té had been an isolated incident, I might’ve kept my job. But I had a history of refusing to stand down for bad behavior, and the p?té was the excuse Xavier needed to finally get rid of me.
Then, as icing on my crap-cake of a year, Alex broke up with me after I made a scene and told off one of his sexist coworkers outside a party with some of his clients. It wasn’t the first time I’d done it, and for Alex, it was the last straw. He couldn’t have a girlfriend who was hurting his career prospects.
At the time, both those incidents had seemed justified. Someone had to speak up, right? And that someone was usually me. My mom used to tell me that my big mouth would get me into trouble someday. Sadie, when are you going to learn not to be so abrasive all the time? You’ll attract more flies with honey than with vinegar.
Back then, I’d responded that no chef in her right mind wants to attract flies, it’s a health code violation. But now, as I head into my third month on this borrowed couch, having put not only Alex’s job prospects in jeopardy, but mine, too, I wonder if maybe my mom had a point. Maybe there was a better way to handle my boss and Alex’s coworkers that wouldn’t have left me single, homeless, and struggling to find a job.
As Kasumi holds up the gold dress, Jacob, my brother’s best friend and the owner of the apartment where I’m currently crashing, walks in. Kasumi waves the sparkly frock in his direction like a road worker directing traffic. “Jacob. Hey, Jacob.”
Jacob stumbles to a stop, blinks, and then pulls an enormous pair of black headphones from his ears, leaving them hanging around his neck. “Sorry? Did you say something?”
Kasumi neatly folds the dress and sets it on the pile. “Sadie and I were just talking about a carnival party my friend is throwing tonight.” She cocks her head. “Don’t you think she needs to go out and have some fun for once?”
Honestly, I don’t know why she’s asking Jacob. I’m pretty sure a carnival-themed party, or any party, really, is his worst nightmare. But then again, he’s probably dying to get me off his couch, so he’d say yes if she suggested I bungee jump off the Brooklyn Bridge.
Jacob’s dark eyes drift from Kasumi to the clothes on the coffee table. Finally, they settle on me. “Will there be clowns at this carnival?”
Kasumi rolls her eyes. “What is with the two of you and clowns?”
“Sadie is terrified of them.”
I glance sharply at Jacob. Ever since my brother made us watch Stephen King’s It when I was in sixth grade and Owen and Jacob were in fifth, I’ve been afraid of clowns. But I’m surprised that Jacob remembers that. I’m surprised he knows anything personal about me at all.