“So I have to decide if I want to be an escape or a chef.”
“Being an escape pays better,” my dad pointed out. “You could take the paycheck and do something more worthwhile afterward.”
“True.”
“When do you have to give them an answer?”
“Next week. And then I’d have to talk to Lucas and Mia about leaving Etoile before my six months is up. I’d have to be in L.A. by the first of April.”
“I’m sure they’d understand. And that’s almost three months away, but the sooner you tell them, the better. They’ll need the time to find someone to replace you.”
“I know.” I glanced out at Etoile’s kitchen, torn between staying and going. “I do like it here.”
“But it was always temporary, right?”
“Right. You know me—no standing still.”
“I’m just glad I don’t have to get the phone calls from the principal anymore.”
I laughed. “Me too. Later, Pop.”
We hung up, and I looked at the radar again. Once more, the giant gray and white cloud heading our way gave me pause. But it was still a little ways off and likely wouldn’t be an issue on the drive there, as long as we left on time. And maybe I’d make those dumplings anyway, bring them with us tonight and offer them as an appetizer.
Setting my phone aside, I got to work.
By two that afternoon, my SUV was loaded with cases of wine, boxes of stemware, and an insulated cooler bag with the ingredients I’d need to plate the prawn and chive dumplings with sake butter I’d prepped. It meant I hadn’t had time to run home and grab a nicer pair of pants, but I figured we could swing by my apartment on our way out of town.
“Ready?” I asked Ellie, who stood at the back of my car looking over everything. She was all bundled up in her winter coat, mittens, and snow boots, as if we were walking to Harbor Springs, not driving.
“Yes.” She frowned at the cooler bag and pointed at it with one hand. “What’s that?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I reached up to close the hatch, and she grabbed my arm.
“Gianni, what is it?”
“It’s just an appetizer. I had all the ingredients because I was planning to make it at my parents’ house tonight. Those are the plans I had to cancel.” I paused for effect. “You’re welcome.”
She looked scandalized. “We can’t bring food!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s insulting! The hostess is cooking.”
“I’ll just offer. If she turns me down, fine.”
“What is it?”
“Prawn and chive dumplings with sake butter and ponzu sauce.”
She scowled. “That sounds delicious.”
I laughed at her mad face. “They are. I thought they’d be a nice surprise, but if you want me to take them out, I will.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sure everyone will love them, and I can pair them with the sparkling white. Just . . . just don’t make tonight about you, okay?”
“It’s just some dumplings, Ellie.”
“I know, but you have this way of—of sucking up all the energy in a room. You’re entertaining without even trying to be, so just stay in the background and don’t be charming,” she begged. “Don’t even smile.”
“I will be a bump on a log. Now will you let go of me so I can shut this and we’re not late?”
Reluctantly, she took her hands off my arm, but she stayed right there while I shut the hatch, as if she didn’t trust me not to add any other illegal cargo to her ship.
Once it was closed, I turned to face her. Snowflakes floated down around her. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and her skin seemed paler than usual—was she nervous?
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said, her brown eyes troubled. “I just have a weird feeling.”
“I thought you had a feeling that tonight was going to change your life.”
“I did. I do. I just . . .” She shivered. “I have this other feeling that something could go wrong.”
“The weather?” I looked up at the gray sky. “Come on, it’s barely snowing. These are just flurries.” I thumped a hand on the back of my car. “She’s sturdy. We’ll be fine.”
“Aren’t you the one who said I should cancel?”
“I changed my mind.” Taking her by the shoulders, I turned her around and steered her to the passenger door, which I opened for her. “I turned the seat warmer on for you. Get in and toast your buns. Leave the rest to me.”