CHAPTER 4 First Day

Kate.

The kitchen at Morrison's was everything I remembered and nothing I deserved.

Stainless steel gleamed under perfect lighting. Knives hung in precise rows, the prep station smelled like fresh herbs and possibility.

I had forgotten what it felt like to belong somewhere.

"Ready?" Alex appeared beside me, holding a chef's coat with my name embroidered on the breast. "This is yours."

I took it with shaking hands. The fabric was crisp, professional, and real.

"I haven't done this in seven years."

"Your hands remember." He nodded toward the kitchen. "Show me."

The lunch service started in two hours. Alex had given me a simple test: create one dish. Anything I wanted. Something that would show his team who I was.

I closed my eyes and let my instincts take over. I immediately knew what to make. 

Seared scallops with champagne beurre blanc, microgreens, and a delicate citrus foam. The dish I had made for Chef Henri the day he told me I was destined for greatness.

My hands moved without thought. Heating the pan to exactly the right temperature. Seasoning the scallops with accuracy. The butter sauce came together like silk, and when I plated it, the dish looked like art.

Alex tasted it in silence. Then he smiled.

"You're back," he said simply. "Welcome home, Kate."

~~~

The first week was very hectic.

I worked twelve-hour days, came home to my tiny apartment exhausted, and fell into bed dreaming of sauces and plating techniques. My body ached and my feet screamed. I had forgotten how physically demanding real cooking was.

I loved every second of it.

On Wednesday, Alex found me in the prep kitchen after the dinner service, working on a new dessert concept.

"You know you can go home, right?" He leaned against the counter, watching me pipe delicate chocolate garnishes. "The staff left an hour ago."

"I'm not tired."

"Liar." But he was smiling. "My father called today, he heard you were back."

My hands stilled. "What did he say?"

"That he knew you would return eventually. That talent like yours doesn't just disappear." Alex paused. "He wants to see you. When you're ready."

Chef Henri. The man who had believed in me when no one else did. The man whose disappointment had haunted me for seven years.

"I'm not ready yet."

"Fair enough." Alex picked up one of my chocolate garnishes, examined it. "These are perfect, by the way. Almost as good as the ones you made during your apprenticeship."

"Almost?"

He grinned. "I'm not going to inflate your ego in week one."

I threw a kitchen towel at him, and he caught it laughing.

It felt good. Normal. Like I was a person again, not just a ghost haunting someone else's life.

On Saturday morning, I picked up Tehilla and Theo for our first full weekend together.

Tehilla ran into my arms immediately. Theo hung back, uncertain.

"Hi, baby," I said, holding out my hand to him. "I missed you."

"Dad says you abandoned us." His voice was small and accusing.

The words hit like a slap, but I kept my face calm. "That's not true. I left Daddy, not you. Never you."

"Then why aren't you home?"

"Because sometimes grownups can't live together anymore but that doesn't mean I stopped loving you." I knelt to his level. "I will always love you. Always. Do you understand?"

He nodded slowly, then crashed into my arms.

I held both my children and tried not to cry.

We spent the day at the park, eating ice cream and playing on the swings. Normal things. Simple things. Things I had been too busy being miserable to do when I lived with David.

"Mommy, are you happy now?" Tehilla asked as we walked back to my car.

"Yes, baby. I am."

"Good. You smile more."

Had I really been that sad? That obviously broken?

When I dropped them back at the house Sunday evening, David was waiting on the porch. He looked terrible. His shirt was wrinkled, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

Good.

"We need to talk," he said.

"Sign the papers, that's all the talking we need to do."

"Kate, please. Just five minutes."

"No." I turned to the kids. "Give Daddy a hug. I'll see you next Saturday."

They hugged him dutifully, then ran inside.

David caught my arm as I turned to leave. "You can't just throw away seven years of marriage."

"Watch me."

"I know you're angry about Sarah, but nothing happened. I swear. She's just my secretary."

I pulled my arm free. "I don't care about Sarah. I care that you made me small. I care that you convinced me my dreams didn't matter and I care that I forgot who I was because you needed me to be less."

"That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, David. Sign the papers."

I walked to my car without looking back.

~~~

Monday morning, Alex called me into his office.

"We have a problem," he said, his face serious.

My stomach dropped. "What kind of problem?"

"The good kind." He turned his computer screen toward me. "Read this."

It was a review from Liam Ross, the most influential food critic in the city. He had come to Morrison's over the weekend, ordered seven courses, and written five paragraphs about one dish.

My scallops.

“Whoever is behind the scallop preparation at Morrison's deserves immediate recognition. The technique is flawless, the flavors transcendent. This is the kind of cooking that reminds you why you fell in love with food in the first place. Chef Morrison has clearly found his secret weapon."

"Kate." Alex was grinning. "You're trending on social media. People are calling to make reservations specifically to try your dish. We're booked solid for the next month."

I stared at the review, at the words that proved I still had it, that I had not lost myself completely.

"There's more," Alex said. "I got a call this morning from Ashford Industries. They want Morrison's to cater to their annual gala. It's the biggest event of the year. Every major business in the city will be there."

Ashford Industries. My father's company. The empire I had walked away from.

"When is it?"

"Three weeks." He looked at me carefully. "Kate, this is your family. Are you ready for that?"

No. I was not ready. But I would never be ready.

"What do they want?"

"A ten-course tasting menu for three hundred guests. They specifically requested our new head chef to oversee it personally."

They did not know it was me. They could not possibly know.

"I'll do it."

Alex's smile faded. "You don't have to prove anything to them."

"I'm not proving anything to them." I met his eyes. "I'm proving it to myself."

He nodded slowly. "Okay. Then let's show them what you can do."

That night, I was working late again when my phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number.

“I know what you're planning. Morrison's. The Ashford gala. You think you can embarrass me in front of the entire city? Think again.”

My blood ran cold.

David.

He knew.

A second text came through.

“Sign over full custody and walk away quietly, or I'll make sure everyone knows exactly why our marriage failed. Including your father.”

My hands were shaking. He was threatening me. Actually threatening me.

I stared at the message, at the man I had wasted seven years on, and felt something inside me turn to ice.

He wanted a war?

He was going to get one.

I typed back: “Do your worst.”

Then I blocked his number and got back to work.

Three weeks until the gala.

Three weeks to show everyone who I really was.

Three weeks until David realized he had made the biggest mistake of his life.