It was almost five in the morning when I walked through the door of the duplex. So, it was no surprise to find the entire place still dark, curtains drawn shut, and Hallie's door closed. Her car was outside, and that meant she hadn't worked her normal third shift. Feeling the exhaustion of being awake all night, I couldn't fathom how Hallie worked twelve-hour shifts at the nursing home. I would have found some empty bed to sleep in, if that were my profession. My best friend was probably the sweetest person in the world, and that meant she took her role of caring for elderly and terminally ill patients seriously. That heart of gold really failed her when she went to Ollie behind my back. That's why I flung Hallie's door open, allowing its knob to bounce off the wall behind it with a bang loud enough to cause her to stir.

"What time is it?" Hallie groaned, rubbing her sleepy eyes while I strode across her room.

"Five."

I threw open the curtains, allowing the bright pink and orange glow of sunrise to beam through the window. Hallie dove beneath her covers, which was useless since I yanked them completely off the bed. I didn't care that Hallie was dressed in practically nothing but a see-through teddy.

"Who pissed in your cheerios?"

"You did!" I yelled, pointing at the culprit in pink lingerie. "You went to Ollie! You told him about Steve... about all of it!"

"Damn right I did! You quit school because of him!"

"That doesn't mean you get to tell a stranger who hates me I committed insurance fraud, Hal! If he tells anyone about it, I could still go to jail! It doesn't matter if Steve is gone or not!"

Hallie sat up, still groggy, one boob spilling out of her nightwear. I pointed to the rogue tit, causing Hallie to roll her eyes and adjust herself, tucking the freed nipple back into the bust of the teddy. Then she patted the spot beside her—a wordless way of telling me we were about to have a chat. I hesitated, wondering why the girl was wearing sexy lingerie when the bed was empty.

"Did you sleep with someone last night? Because if you did, there's not a chance in hell that I'm climbing into that bed with you until the sheets are washed."

"I wish," Hallie muttered, pulling one of her two pillows out from behind her to place against the headboard for me. "My orgasms last night were, unfortunately, by my own hand. I attempted my new vibrator, named the Rocket, which did not leave me seeing stars. Its first mission was aborted, and it blasted its way right into the trash."

I could live with that. I kicked off my shoes, instantly realizing how badly my feet hurt from being on them all day and night, and crawled into the bed. The two of us sat there in silence for a long while, trying to figure out what to say to each other. Fighting for us always seemed awkward and stupid, because we knew we would make up almost instantly. That didn't mean that it didn't hurt when Ollie had shown up at TJ's store. One look into his stunning blue eyes, and it was obvious he had learned of Steve. I just couldn't believe that Hallie had been the one to go directly to him and spill every secret I had.

"Was he still a dick?" Hallie was the first to break the silence, looking to me with a lot of unneeded sympathy. "I can still kill him. He makes it easy. We know where he works and where he sleeps."

My eyes closed, and I giggled with Hallie's own joining. My head dropped to the blonde's shoulder. I still couldn't make heads or tails of what had happened last night. It still felt like a dream. Ollie had been more than nice—almost human, even. It still hadn't fully clicked that I took him up on a job offer to be an apprentice. Obviously, I had lost my mind in a moment of weakness. That moment was when he pleaded with me—the same moment I saw the hurt in him I felt every single second of every single day. His guard was down. Hell, it was practically nonexistent in that moment. As soon as I agreed, he was all business again, explaining dress code and the benefits package. Ollie acted like he hadn't admitted to me that a breakup ruined him, or how he wanted out of his family business.

"He gave me a job," I said, admitting guiltily. "An apprenticeship. TJ is going to hate me when I tell him I'm quitting as of today."

"A job?" Hallie's head pivoted to see my face, looking like she was seeing if she heard me correctly. "I needed him to talk you into going back to school, not have you running plates. If this is about the bills..."

"No. I'm being taken under his wing as a chef. It's not about the bills; although, it will help a lot. He offered me double what TJ pays, and it's only if I go back to school. I'll be working the dinner rush with him every night, I guess."

"Wow." Hallie nodded approvingly. "I'm beginning to like toothpick guy. I'd ask if he has a brother, but I already know the answer to that, and he's a complete dick. He kept," she held up air quotes, "joking," and dropped them, "that I was knocked up, because apparently, Ollie has a thing for blondes."

"You met his brother?" I asked, sitting up again and adjusting the pillow to support my lower, aching back. As a brunette, I pushed the blonde comment out of my head to focus on what he'd said about the restaurant. Ollie hadn't seemed too fond of his brother making decisions about the menu.

"You've met him too," Hallie said, clarifying. "The bartender I thought was hot the night you didn't come home? That's him. He's no longer attractive to me. I'd screw TJ again before him."

Well, that made sense. I vaguely recalled Ollie having no love towards our bartender that night, not realizing it was his brother. Could it have been that his brother was a bigger ass than Ollie? Because that seemed very unlikely. Plus, the bartender was very nice to me that night. Although, so was Ollie. Hallie liked Ollie and not his brother; I liked his brother and not Ollie... most days. Last night was a major exception.

I clutched my head, not knowing what to think. "Those siblings might give me whiplash."

"As for TJ," Hallie sighed at the thought of him, "he will understand. He's an ass, not a jerk. Just like me, he's got a soft spot for you, Sloan Smith. Don't be scared to tell him you're chasing the dream that we all wanted to see you grasp. No one will ever be mad at you for taking steps forward. It's the steps back where we get a little testy."

I faked a smile, sinking further into Hallie's warm bed. I was nothing if not dependable at taking those steps back.

>>

Just like the day prior, Chicago's sky was threatening a wicked thunderstorm. At only nine in the morning, it looked more like nine in the evening. Rain had not yet started falling, but it was only a matter of minutes. The sky was flashing and growling, ready to downpour. Of course, every damn occupant of Chicago was trying to beat it, flooding the streets with their cars before the streets flooded with water. There was bumper to bumper traffic, cars with their lights on in the early morning, honking as if that was going to make the sea of vehicles magically part for them.

"Please, please wait until I get to the store," I asked of the temperamental sky.

There wasn't normally this much traffic on the outside of town. This usually meant one thing... there was also a baseball game today. Basically, life was just throwing as many curves to make me late to Mulligan's as it could. Nothing like disappointing the guy who hated you on the first day. Disappointing men was going to be the theme today, which was why when I pulled into the parking lot of TJ's, I couldn't bring myself to rush in to beat the rain. So, of course, the second I got out of the car, the sky opened up and poured buckets. Running didn't make any difference, because by the time I had passed the store's threshold, my clothes couldn't have been holding more water.

My sneakers squeaked with every step I took on the linoleum floors, alerting TJ of my arrival way before I had approached the customer-free cash register. Apparently, I was the only one stupid enough to go out in this to enter a consignment shop, because there was only one lone customer sifting through the clearance bin of DVDs. Waiting for me to approach the counter, TJ stood with a sympathetic smile and frowning eyes that told me that Hallie hadn't only talked to Ollie.

"She wasn't supposed to tell you!" I tossed my purse to the counter and crossed my arms. My best friend was driving me more insane than I already was. "I feel terrible!"

TJ tugged on the small beard on his chin and gave a sad attempt at a laugh. "It's Hal. She worries about you and needed to threaten me to verify that I would not make you feel bad for doing what was best for you."

That was definitely my best friend. The only girl that would call the ex she hated to make sure that he took my quitting without notice lightly. It still hadn't been her place to tell him. Yes, TJ was a friend, but he was my boss. At some point, Hallie was going to have to let me return to being the adult I once was. Ollie was giving me that chance.

"I did not know I was being offered this position, and it allows me to go back to school."

"I get it." He shrugged.

"I'm starting today, and I'm a mess," I confessed, looking down at my soaked clothing. Thankfully, I had chosen black and not white to wear today. "In more ways than one."

"Well," TJ disappeared beneath the counter and popped back into my vision, now holding a plastic bag out to me, "then maybe you should take this."

I accepted the bag, having no clue what I would find in it. When I peered in, I immediately brought the bag to my stomach in a hug. My eyes glassed over for the first time today, but I held the tears back. Instead, I took a much-needed deep breath and forced myself to look at TJ. His shoulders went lax at the sight of me.

"I know how much that sweatshirt means to you. Don't consign his stuff, Sloan."

Another deep breath was taken. "I owe creditors and Hallie a lot of money. I needed to consign it."

His head shook no. "You already consigned it, and I bought it. I'm letting you have it since you clearly need something to wear today that isn't soaked. I better not see any of Steve's shit in here again. You may need the money, but I can't..." He trailed off, with his eyes falling to the floor.

I understood. TJ felt like shit about not being there during Steve's end. TJ had his reasons, and I knew it wasn't fair to put blame on him. Not everyone can watch their best friend waste away to nothing. He didn't want to see Steve's stuff because he couldn't handle the reminder, just like I couldn't handle the thought of losing his sweatshirt... or our bed. The Pizza Pizzazz was gone and now this was all I had left. Two things.

"Thank you." My voice was rocky. I clutched the sweatshirt harder and breathed in deeply, wishing that it still smelled like him. I wouldn't let it go again. Or our bed.

>>

Mulligan's wasn't open when I had arrived. Not knowing whether to walk a few blocks just to get to the alley or attempt the front door in the hopes someone was actually behind it, I opted for the latter. The rain had only just let up, and I was hoping to be inside once it began again. After tapping my knuckles on the opaque glass entry to the restaurant, a few shadows appeared on the other side.

"We open at ten." A man appeared after he had spoken.

Sober me could see it now—the resemblance between Ollie and his brother. He was a younger version but held the same facial features—plump lips and sapphire eyes. Their body types even held similar height and weight. Ollie looked less hipster and a little more country, with a hint of bad boy. It was the bike and tattoos that added to it. If it wasn't for the hair that was pulled back into a bun, this man could have been Ollie. I quickly decided that the disheveled hair on Ollie was better than the bun.

I extended my hand, giving my arm a few shakes to clear the droplets that had fallen from the rain-soaked overhang above us. "I'm Sloan. The new..." I paused, wondering what to call myself. "Chef? I think?"

His smile immediately fell. There was confusion, a spark of anger, and possibly some bitterness as his eyes squinted in my direction. He looked up at the ceiling and then back at me.

Oh yeah, these two are definitely related.

"We aren't hiring... sorry."

My hand dropped before lifting it to adjust the bag on my shoulder. "I was already hired. Last night... well, no. I guess that's not right either. I was hired around one in the morning."

This encounter felt odd. It sounded all wrong no matter which way I said it, and this now had his interest piqued. His brows rose, and then he looked from me up to the ceiling again, as if he could see the man who lived above it.

"Were you now?" He laughed once, but he didn't find this funny. That much was clear. "Were you both drunk and mid romp?"

Wow.

My mouth fell ajar. I could just barely shake my head before Ollie appeared at his brother's side. He clutched my elbow and brought me forward, away from the elements that were threatening to unleash their next round, with thunder that made all the old windows of the place rattle. Ollie was just as soaked as I was, leading me to believe that he had been outside a few minutes ago, too. The smell of disgusting tobacco told me exactly the reason he had been. He had been smoking, and I would have likely found him in the alleyway—where just last night I'd seen his piles of discarded cigarette butts surrounding the back door.

"I see you've met Mikah." His eyes narrowed at his brother. "This is Sloan. She's my apprentice and sous chef. Get her a key."

"You get her a damn key." Mikah's eyes rolled hard as he walked away from the door. "I'm not your bitch. Shelby is going to have a stroke when she finds out you hired someone without prepping her first. Payroll is going to be fucked, and I'll never hear the end."

There were no words. What had I gotten myself into? These two held no love for one another. Yikes.

Ollie muttered something beneath his breath and motioned for me to walk further into the empty establishment. There was noise in the kitchen already, and the scent of my macaroni and cheese mixing with Ollie's cigarettes. I couldn't help but feel a little sense of pride mixed with my current anxiety. My recipe was being used today.

"Ignore him."

"He's my boss though, right?" I looked back to see Mikah slamming a shot.

A little early for that, but okay.

Ollie's head shook no as we fast approached the kitchen door. I fought to keep up. "I'm your boss for now. I run the kitchen. He runs the bar. My sister is supposed to run the marketing and entertainment, but she's..." His head shook again, seeming to put himself into a conversation that he didn't want to get into. "She's just not into this like we are. She just had a kid, and that's her focus."

"So, if your brother runs the bar, then why does he get a say in your menu?"

Ollie smiled, but it was an obnoxiously coy one. He pushed the door open and motioned me through. "Good fucking question."

Unlike last night when we were alone, the kitchen of Mulligan's was now hopping with staff. Three men—two of which who looked similar in age to myself and couldn't have been older than twenty-five, and another that looked like he could have been my grandparent—had already begun prep. One was seasoning steaks, another chopping vegetables, for what had to be the house salad, and one pastry chef who was already starting today's dessert with a masher. I peered at the whiteboard, which showed the day's dessert to be mini blueberry mousse cakes. That explained the mashing of the fresh blueberries.

Ollie pointed to the three men and said the names Ron, Todd and Mick, but he was moving too fast for me to attach the correct name to the right person. Introductions seemed to be out of the question, and I'd have to figure it out later. I scrambled to keep up with him while more employees entered from the back. There were a few servers—distinctive by helpful name tags that were labeled as such. They didn't stay long and gave no thought to me being in here as they hurried to the opposite end of the room to get out of the kitchen.

Not one person said hello to Ollie as they entered. In fact, they looked like they couldn't get out of his way fast enough.

I felt that.

"What will I be doing today?" I asked, darting out of the way of a man who was moving towards the bar door.

I knew the phrase "dancing in the kitchen" from years of working as a hostess, but had never experienced it like I was now. Mulligan's wasn't even open yet, and I was weaving between people just to stay beside Ollie—who couldn't stay still.

A white coat was extended to me. "You'll be observing."

Fun... not. I took the jacket from him with a pout. "I don't even get to chop something up?"

"I'd ask you to cut a green pepper, but I'd like you to stick around."

"Ha... Ha..." My eyes rolled. "Hilarious."

"That's me." He sighed. "The hilarious one. Stay right here. I'll get the new-hire forms."

Like I was going anywhere. I was hired for the kitchen, and I was standing in it. He didn't even give me the chance to say yes or no before he had disappeared. I uncomfortably clutched my elbow and peered around the hectic room. Now that the boss was gone, I was getting attention that I didn't want.

"You workin' here?" The Chicago accent came thick from the man who had chopped up more types of greens for salads than I knew existed. His big brown eyes looked amazed. This was one of the three introductions I vaguely received, and the names had already slipped my mind.

"Er," I shrugged, "I guess I'm an apprentice to Ollie? A sous chef... maybe? I'm not sure."

He laughed, and then the rest of the room did the same.

"Good luck with that." He turned away to focus on spinach but nudged the man beside him. "Can't believe he allowed another chef back here."

"And a woman no less." His neighbor agreed, equally amazed.

My eyes rolled harder than they ever had. Sexist men just loved telling women to get in the kitchen until that was the job they wanted. Then their place was anywhere but the kitchen, because men obviously could do everything better. After hearing that, I looked around the kitchen once more, noting that there was not one female in here with me.

"He didn't mean it like you're taking it." The older man extended his purple hand. Blueberry stains are the worst. "I'm Mick."

"Sloan." I took the hand and was given a firm shake.

"Todd is a dad of all girls." He pointed out the man who had made the derogatory comment. "He just meant that Chef rarely puts women back here with us. Everyone is fine with a woman being back here."

"So..." I laughed with a closed mouth, wondering if last night was another fluke with Chef's mood. "Ollie is the sexist one then?"

Mick sighed with a shaking head, watching the door and waiting for his boss to reappear. "I think it was a failed attempt to please his ex. Proving there were no female distractions back here when that wasn't their problem."

"Oh."