Oh no.
He’d even unloaded half the refrigerator onto the prep tables to look for them. I’d left soon after, but I’m willing to bet he forgot to put that tray back when he was done.
“It was Xavier,” I blurt out, before I can stop myself. Luckily, Xavier is still ranting, so he doesn’t hear me.
Kasumi does, though. She turns to me with eyes wide. “What?”
I lower my voice. “I saw Xavier take that pan out last night. I bet he left it there by mistake.” The minute the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back. Because I realize why this is all so familiar. I’ve seen that pink slop before. I’ve had this conversation before.
“You’ve got to say something,” Kasumi whispers.
I back away slowly. “Oh, hell no.” I’ve managed to keep my head down for all these months. Not only have I kept my job, but I’m a contender for that executive pastry chef position. Xavier has complimented my desserts multiple times, implying the job could be mine. And I want it.
The prestige something like that could bring when I start my own bakery would be huge. And the significant raise would mean I could save a lot more money. Not to mention that it would feel really good to tell my parents I’d earned a promotion like that. I’ve made it this far. I’ve put up with all this shit. I deserve that promotion, and I’m not about to blow it.
I turn to hide in the staff break room until Xavier runs out of steam, but Kasumi grabs my arm. “He’s blaming Samantha for this. You have to speak up.”
Xavier’s wrath is directed at a brand-new line cook straight out of culinary school. She’s holding back tears as he hurls insults in her direction, with words like useless and incompetent playing on repeat. Even if that poor girl had left the tray on the counter, nobody deserves to be treated that way. In another year, in another life, I’d let Xavier know exactly what I think of his behavior.
But I can’t.
I can’t because this is the p?té incident. This is the day I was fired during my Very Bad Year. I lost my job, my apartment, everything, over a pile of pink slop. I shake my head. Absolutely not. I am not doing it again.
“Sadie,” Kasumi hisses. “He’s going to fire Samantha over a mistake he made. We have to say something.”
Kasumi’s right. But if I speak up, I’ll be right back where I was last time around. Out of a job, and then soon I’ll be homeless. I can’t go back there. Can’t handle the depression, the hopelessness, the feeling that life was carrying on for everyone but me. And where would I live? Jacob just got Olivia Rodrigo out of his life, why would he allow her back in?
“If we stick together, I bet he’ll back down,” Kasumi murmurs to me. And before I can stop her, she stands up straight and calls out, “Excuse me, sir!” across the kitchen. “Sadie and I have something to tell you.”
Xavier levels an angry glare in our direction. “What.”
Kasumi takes a deep breath. “We don’t think it was Samantha who left that p?té on the counter.”
“Well, then, who did it?”
My chest squeezes painfully. I press a hand there. Why is it suddenly so hard to suck air in my lungs? If I don’t sit down, I think I might pass out. Or throw up. Or both. I pull my arm from Kasumi’s grasp. “I’m not even sure that’s what I saw,” I whisper in her ear. “Can we just let it go?”
Her mouth drops open, and her eyes go wide. And before she can say another word, I flee to the break room and slam the door shut.
I sit on a bench and bend forward, putting my head between my knees like they do in the movies, and taking shallow, gasping breaths. After a few minutes like this, my chest stops squeezing and my heart slows down. I sit up, and just as I do, the door flings open.
Kasumi marches in so ferociously that the breeze of her anger blows past me. She bangs open her locker and snatches her chef’s coat from the hook.
“Did Xavier fire Samantha?” I whisper.
She whirls around, hands on her hips, and gives me the most contemptuous stare I’ve ever seen. “No, Xavier didn’t fire Samantha.”
I blow out a relieved sigh. “Oh good.”
She turns back to her locker, grabs her purse off the shelf, and haphazardly stuffs her chef’s coat inside. Then she tosses it over her shoulder with one arm of the coat still trailing over the side. “Xavier fired me.”
Chapter 18
I stand outside Kasumi’s apartment building holding an overstuffed pastry box like a white flag. Kasumi hasn’t answered my calls or texts in over a week, so I baked a double batch of her favorite chocolate croissants and came over here. But now that I’m outside her door, I’m not really sure what to do. I try texting her again—Hey, I’m here at your building. Can we talk?—but she doesn’t reply.
I press the buzzer for apartment number three, and her roommate answers.
“Adrianna, it’s Sadie. Can you buzz me in?”
There’s a long moment of silence, and I can imagine Kasumi and Adrianna whispering about what to do. Then the static of the intercom comes through the speaker, and a slightly fuzzy version of Adrianna’s voice says, “Sorry, Kasumi’s not here.”
Defeated, I set the pastry box on the step. I brought croissants, I text. I’m leaving them on your step. Then I head down the block. Right before I cross the street, I glance over my shoulder at Kasumi’s building. The door opens, and her head pops out. She looks left and right, and then she grabs the box off the step.
“Hey!” I take off running so I can catch her before she disappears back inside. “Kasumi, wait.”
She hesitates, biting her lip, and for a second, I think she’s going to act like she doesn’t hear me. Her hand grasps the door handle, but to my relief, she turns around and takes a step back outside. “What do you want, Sadie?”
I come to a stop in front of her stoop, panting from my sprint down the sidewalk. “Can I talk to you? Please?”
“Fine.” She shifts the pastry box under her arm. “Talk.”
“I’m so sorry about what happened last week,” I say, still slightly out of breath. “I can’t believe Xavier fired you. Maybe if we go tell him that it was all a mistake…”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” Kasumi says sharply. “And I’m not going to say it was. I’m not going to kiss up to him or apologize or pretend that I was in the wrong when I wasn’t.”
“Okay, maybe I can talk to him.” I’ve been sucking up to Xavier for months in order to keep my job, and the last thing I expected was for my best friend to get sacked instead of me. So, if it will fix this mess, I’ll happily show up in Xavier’s office to remind him he was robbed of the head judge position on Top Chef, his braised short ribs are the best in all five boroughs, and Oh, by the way, can Kasumi have her job back?
If I get him in the right mood, maybe it could work.
But Kasumi’s eyes narrow and her head swings back and forth. “I’m not going back there.”
“But—” I start to argue. Even a lot of well-paid restaurant workers live paycheck to paycheck in New York. What if Kasumi can’t pay her rent? Or she loses her apartment? What if Xavier blackballs her, and she can’t find another job?