Page 8 of Chess Not Checkers
She nods to show she’s listening and types my answer in her notes.
“What about you?” I ask.
“I’m double-majoring in culinary arts and business.”
My brows shoot up. “You’re a chef?”
She fidgets with the bracelets on her wrist, looking uncharacteristically shy. Something about the look is endearing. “I haven’t earned that title yet, but I’d like to. I want to have my own restaurant one day.”
“That’s amazing,” I say.
One of my favorite things is when people with big dreams talk about them. It makes me feel less alone with mine.
The barest hint of a smile graces her lips. “Thanks.”
Thanks.Such a small word. But that tiny expression of gratitude feels like scoring a touchdown. It gives me hope that maybe, by the end of the semester, Jasmine won’t hate me…or at least not as much as she does now.
Chapter five
Not So Simple
Jasmine Chamberlain
“Do you know what kind of restaurant you’re going to open?” Shepherd asks.
We went through the basic questions on the board, but part of the assignment is to expound upon the questions in a natural way to learn about each other. I stop typing and glance at him. He saidgoing, as if it’s a sure thing. No doubt at all. While my family has all been supportive, I’ve met plenty of people who prefer to remind me of how difficult the industry is rather than encourage my dream. His automatic support probably means nothing to him, but it helps me relax. Which is strange considering he’s, well,him.
A part of me hesitates to share the dream that’s so close to my heart, but I love talking about food and service too much to resist.
“I have a few different concepts,” I reply. “But I really love the idea of making fine dining into a family experience. Instead of tiny meals on pure white plates, it would be dishes you couldpass around the table to share. The same caliber of food, but more accessible.”
Some of my favorite moments with my family growing up were spent around the table. Even now, with my parents gone, I still love family dinners. They’re just a lot more chaotic with so many Carters and Holts running around. My sister married into the Carter family, and they took us in immediately. Now I have four older brothers, plus their wives, and then there’s MJ, who was a Carter until she married Sebastian. It all comes together into one big, chaotic, wonderful family. Not the same as I had before, but still wonderful nonetheless.
All that time spent around the table encouraged me to think about a concept where people felt at home, but still got to experience something they wouldn’t at their own dinner tables.
Shepherd smiles. “That’s really cool. I’ve been to a few fancy restaurants with my brother, and I always feel like I can’t relax because I’m afraid I’m going to break something.”
“Considering you don’t know how to keep your limbs to yourself, that doesn’t surprise me,” I say wryly.
He smirks. “Still thinking about it? Didn’t know one touch from me would have such a big impact on you.”
I roll my eyes. “I was referring to the breach of personal space.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.”
I shake my head and look back at my notes. There’s still plenty of space to fill. I want this first assignment—even if it’s just notes—to make a good impression on Dr. Poulter.
“Let’s stay on task. So, your plan is to go to the NFL. What team would you want to be on? Your brother’s?”
He huffs a laugh. “Considering we’re both quarterbacks, that wouldn’t be good. I’d either be second string to him or vice versa. I don’t have a team in mind—maybe something in the South since that’s where my family is.”
“I didn’t think about that,” I say, then cringe. MJ would be appalled at my slip up. She taught me a lot about football over the months that her brother and my sister have been together.
“Did you start playing football because of your brother?” I ask as a way to bring the subject away from my mistake.
Shepherd is silent long enough to make me glance over at him. He’s staring down at his laptop.
“Shepherd?” I prompt, and he blinks a few times.
