CHAPTER 7

Marie Sue

I sat on the large bed, feeling deflated. Somehow, I had managed to blow my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I sighed. I had to find a way to redeem myself. There was no way I was leaving this mansion without getting that job.

My phone buzzed beside me, and I looked at it. It was a call from Suzanne, the daughter of the head chef at Emerald Restaurant.

She wasn't really a fantastic cook. She was just an average one, but she managed to secure a high position as an assistant chef because of her mother.

And I knew she wasn't particularly fond of me. She kept me as a friend because she needed a few favors from me. I'd heard her say negative things about me on many occasions.

I pretended to be friends with her too because I also needed my job. Having her as a friend was a sure way to make sure I kept it.

“Hello, Suzanne,” I said, trying to sound animated.

“Hello, Marie,” she said. “I saw the news. You saved Mrs. Kensington’s life,” she added after a short pause. “One day I’m not at the restaurant, and you’re playing hero.”

I sighed. If only she knew that I had made a fool of myself in the kitchen.

“Yeah, it was nothing,” I said.

“Stop it, Marie. I heard she invited you to her home,” she swooned. “You rode in the same car as Jordan. As in Jordan Kensington!”

I smiled. I’d almost forgotten how magical the day had been before everything went wrong.

“Yes, she did. She just wanted to treat me to something nice at her house,” I lied.

“Oh, I wish it was me Mrs. Kensington invited. I have a high chance of winning Jordan’s heart. I’m not saying you aren’t pretty. You’re very pretty, but you’re not the type for people like Jordan. It’s such a waste.”

I frowned and felt insulted. “What do you mean?”

She chuckled. “Look in the mirror, Marie. You’re a size 8. Men like Jordan only go for size 6 ladies.”

I stood up and walked to the mirror. I had never been insulted because of my body size before. Dad said I was as curvy as his mum, and when he said it, there was delight in his eyes. But twice today, I had heard something negative about my size. I looked at my waist and the curve of my hips.

“There’s nothing wrong with my size,” I said out loud.

Suzanne grunted. “I need to have a meeting with Mrs. Lara Kensington. Can you put in a word for me? You know I always have your back over here. You have to do this one for me.”

I could hear the threat in her request. She was basically saying, Get me to speak with Lara, or I’ll make sure you don’t last here.

“I’ll speak to her about you,” I promised, even though I had no plans of doing that.

“Jordan is meant for me and I'm sure you don't have eyes for him, or do you Marie Sue?”

Far from it, I could never dream of being with someone as rude as Jordan. My father was a perfect example of the kind of man I wanted. Jordan was his far opposite.

“I don't," I said and yawned.

“Good,” she said.

I glanced at the clock. It was 8 p.m. I had a few hours to sleep before I redeemed myself.

“I have to get to bed now, Suzanne,” I said. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

I hung up the phone before she could utter another word, and I stared at my figure one more time. I turned sideways and faced the mirror. I looked perfect – size 8 or whatever.

I slept in for two reasons. First, the bed was too comfortable, the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept in. Second, I’d spent hours rolling around on it, planning the breakfast I wanted to make for the Kensingtons.

When I finally woke up, I jumped out of bed.

The house was almost fully awake. I ran out of my room and headed to the kitchen. Just as I rushed in, I bumped into Jordan.

I froze. My eyes traveled from his large chest, which threatened to tear the seams of his sweatshirt, to his shorts and then to his face. The look on his face made me realize I was in my nightwear, a pair of bum shorts and a top that clung tightly to me because no one made clothes in my size anymore.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered, struggling to find the right words.

“Why are you running through the house as if you’re on fire?” he asked, his eyes finally settling on my disheveled hair which he looked at with the same disapproval in his eyes.

I looked behind him. The cook was already making breakfast.

“My life is on fire,” I said, stepping aside and moving past him to speak to the cook.

He turned around and watched me, which made me very nervous.

“Hello,” I said to the cook. “I’m Marie, and I wanted to inform you that I’ll be making breakfast this morning.”

“No, you’re not,” Jordan said immediately. “We’ve had enough of your specials.”

I turned to him. “Please. I know you don’t think I can do it, but give me a chance.”

“To poison us again?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.

“I saved your mother’s life,” I said, using a card I had hoped I wouldn’t have to play. “At least, that has to count for something. Give me a chance to show you what I can do.”

He stared at me. I stared back, refusing to blink. Dad called it the pecking order. If I flinched, I would make him see me as weak and not worth a chance.

“Alright,” he said, breaking eye contact. “Just this one chance, Chubby.”

“Thank you,” I beamed, ignoring the rude nickname. I would set the record straight later.

I got to work immediately.