But the whole point of this second chance year is to change that. Look at how well it worked out for me when I talked to Alex instead of confronting Zach. So, maybe I should apply that same principle to Xavier. Maybe I shouldn’t always be so quick to blow up as soon as something offends me.
Alex cups my cheek with his palm. “You deserve that job.”
“Thanks. I do deserve that job.” And for the first time, I’m buoyed by the hope I might actually get it.
“So.” His lips curve into a crooked smile. “This seems like a good time to give you a present.”
I gaze across the cushions, eyes wide. “What’s the occasion?” It’s not my birthday until June.
“Do I need an occasion?” He stands up. “Wait here. I also have something important to ask you.” And then Alex gives me a wink and disappears into his bedroom.
For a fleeting moment, my imagination goes wild. Is it possible Alex is about to propose? I rub my sweaty hands on my jeans. A proposal definitely didn’t happen last time around. It’s been three years, and we’ve had a few “someday” conversations, but nothing more specific than that. If you’d told me when I was on Jacob’s couch with Blanche, Sophia, Dorothy, and Rose that someday, I’d be sitting in Alex’s apartment on the brink of a proposal, I would have felt like I’d won a James Beard Award and the title of Star Baker all rolled into one.
But now, well… I’m excited. But it’s more of a muted excitement. A winning-the-pie-baking-contest-at-the-county-fair kind of excitement. It’s not that I don’t want Alex to propose. But I’m still adjusting to the whole second chance year thing.
Maybe I need a little break from excitement.
Alex returns from the bedroom, not with the little blue box I’ve been imagining, but with a bunch of shopping bags. Relief fills me like crème p?tissière fills an éclair. But I don’t have time to analyze my reaction because he’s setting the bags on the table in front of me. “I hope you don’t mind, but I snooped in your closet last time I was over to see what sizes to buy.”
My gaze skims over the labels. Dolce & Gabbana. Chanel. Prada.
My mouth drops open. “What is all this?” Peeking inside a Dolce & Gabbana bag, I find a neatly folded garment made of silk and lace. My first thought is lingerie, but reaching in, I pull out a classic little black dress with a lace appliqué around the neckline. It’s gorgeous, and from the way the fabric slides against my skin, obviously incredibly expensive.
Alex hands me another bag, and inside, I find a pair of black Louboutin pumps with the signature red soles. “These are… amazing.” I meet his eyes, searching for an explanation. “And, I mean, I do love shoes. But Alex—you know I’m a chef. I’m not sure I’ll have a lot of occasions to wear something like this.”
“Of course I know you’re a chef,” he says with a smile and an amused roll of his eyes. “And I know you’d never buy anything like this for yourself. But there will be a lot more events for my job in the coming months. And wives”—he clears his throat—“and girlfriends are often invited along. I wanted you to have some special things to wear.”
My gaze sweeps across the shopping bags full of clothes, shoes, and I’m pretty sure I see the straps of a handbag or two peeking out. And realization dawns. Alex may not be planning to ask me to marry him today, but he’s clearly setting things in motion, starting with these clothes befitting a Wall Street wife. I know I should be ecstatic that we’re moving in this direction, but all this high-end fashion probably costs as much as I make in three months at the restaurant. And I’m not sure any of it really suits me.
It’s a bit overwhelming.
You wanted to be with Alex, a little voice reminds me, one that sounds an awful lot like an old lady fortune teller. This is what it means to be with Alex. And I know it’s true.
So, I ooh and ahh, and smile, and I press my hand to my heart as I sift through the contents of the shopping bags. And by the time Alex hands me the last box holding a simple platinum necklace with a solitaire diamond pendant, I’ve gotten into the spirit of things. Because, my God, this stuff really is beautiful, and Alex can’t stop grinning at me.
I stand and wrap my arms around him. “Thank you.”
“I’m really happy that you’re making an effort with my colleagues, Sadie.”
“Dinner the other day was fun. I really liked everyone.” Okay, that may be an exaggeration. I will never, ever like Zach, but I also don’t need to make a big thing of it.
“I’m so glad,” Alex says, tightening his arms around me. “Because that’s related to what I wanted to ask you. Dave mentioned he and his wife would like to get to know my girlfriend, and I was wondering if it would be okay for me to schedule a dinner.”
His shoulders tense and eyebrows knit together, and I realize how much this means to him. The designer clothes and bags and shoes aren’t just about impressing some Wall Street colleagues. They’re about impressing Dave, who filled a hole in his life when his dad died. And then it dawns on me that the job, the apartment, his relationship with Dave, they’re a new start for Alex after the bottom fell out of his world.
It’s not that different from my own second chance year if you really think about it.
“I’d love to meet Dave and his wife.”
And with that, I shove the last of my worries aside. My career is on track and there’s a chance I could land that executive pastry chef position. I’m still living in my apartment, and I can afford to pay the rent. And as the cherry, whipped cream, and sprinkles on top, I have a great guy who wants me to be a part of his exciting new life.
It’s all coming together just like I wanted it to.
Chapter 12
April
I’m testing a new recipe for brioche doughnuts with coffee cream when Xavier bursts into the kitchen. “Sadie,” he says. “I need you to help out in the dining room again. Rob Thurmond is bringing in some VIPs again tonight, and he specifically requested you.”
At this point, I’ve worked out that Rob is the creepy older guy who looked down my shirt a couple of weeks ago. Apparently, I made an impression. I sort of wish it had been a water-spilled-in-his-lap kind of impression. Maybe I can ask to be on hot coffee duty today.
I take off my apron, remembering the promotion. I’m doing this for the promotion. At least I finished making the pink lemonade angel food cakes earlier today. All Doug has to do is plate the slices and drizzle strawberry chardonnay sauce on top. Surely he can manage that. “Okay, I’ll need another server’s shirt.”
Xavier blinks, and I wonder if he’s surprised I’d go along so willingly. Unbelievably, he gives me a pat on the shoulder. And then, even stranger, he actually says the words thank you. Right to my face.
“Um. You’re welcome.”
He turns to leave, but at the last second, spins back around. “I received a lot of compliments on the white peach and basil hand pies last night, and I know that was your concept.”
Truly shocked now, I can only nod.
“I’m sure you heard rumors that there may be some staffing changes later this year. I’ve got my eye on you for any openings.” With that, he marches out of the kitchen, snapping at a server who had the nerve to get in his way.