Page 5 of Don't Remind Me
My brows shot up, and I fought to keep my voice neutral. “Did you?”
Dani glanced at me from beneath dark lashes.
“And when is this happening?” I asked.
“September,” Jillian replied.
My jaw flexed. “This September?”
Jillian raised her chin higher, nose practically aimed at the fucking ceiling as if daring me to challenge her. “That’s right.”
I nodded, forcing my grimace into a smile as fake as Dani’s had been. “I see.”
Tension clung to the silence between us like static about to crack. Finally, the other woman cut in.
“You know, Dani and I should probably get back to the office,” she said, laying a hand on Jillian’s arm. Jillian’s combative posture melted as she turned to the woman. “We can’t thank you enough for all you’re doing for the symposium.” Then she nodded to me. “You too, Chef.”
Her smile seemed genuine, and it was almost enough to pierce through the frustration simmering beneath my skin. Frustration I think she saw, because she wasted no time giving Jillian a hug and turning for the door.
Dani was right behind her, but Jillian stopped her before she could make her escape.
“Oh, Dani! Why don’t you swing by on Monday? Jase will be here, and you two can start planning out the menu. I know there’s no time to waste.”
I muffled a snort. The moment we lost our audience, I’d be addressing a thing or two with my boss.
Dani gave a tight smile, looking almost pained. “Sounds good,” she mumbled as she tucked a long strand of dark hair behind her ear. Her gaze lifted to mine for a second before dropping to the floor, and she hurried after her colleague.
I waited until the door swung closed behind her, then pinned my full attention on Jillian and crossed my arms over my chest.
She flashed me a look of innocence, then spun on her heel and headed for the stairs to her office, shoes clacking on the hardwood with each step. I rounded the bar and weaved through the tables after her.
“Jillian.”
She waved her hand over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs. “No need to thank me, Jase. Your enthusiasm is thanks enough.”
I took the stairs two at a time. For someone so small, she was alarmingly quick. “This isn’t what we agreed, Jillian.”
“And what did we agree?”
I crested the top step and followed her into the office across from the staff room, my hands landing on my hips as she took a seat at her desk.
“We agreed that as long as we turned a profit, I’d have the final say in how we run things. We’ve been in the green for five months.”
“And you did an impressive job getting us there so quickly,” she said as she neatened a stack of papers that were already neat.
“I also never signed on for a catering gig.”
“Which is why you’re so fortunate to work for a brilliant woman like me who did it for you. You’re welcome.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose to fight off the headache slowly but surely piercing my brain and shredding the last of my sanity with it.
“I thought you’d be thrilled about it,” Jillian added lightly, “seeing as we also agreed I would fund your restaurant concept of choice once we hit our goals here. The word of mouth this kind of event can generate could be the boost we need to get us there.”
“It could also sink us.” My hand dropped to my side. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to pull off a catering gig of this scale? And do well? With a crew our size?”
“Then it’s good I have such an excellent chef to do it.”
I brushed off the attempt at flattery. “Are they even paying for this, or is it all out of pocket for us?”
