Chapter 3

Eloise:

I glanced around my new apartment with a burst of pride in my chest. I Was Here. I was in Paris. Far away from the pain and sorrows of my broken marriage.

I had been here for a week but it still hurt like fresh stab wounds in my chest.

I couldn't believe he'd thrown all we could have become away like I didn't matter.

The humiliation was still imprinted in my mind like a tramp stamp. And the image of Charlotte and Edward together had haunted me for the last week and a half like a recurring nightmare

It hadn't mattered to him, I understood that now. I was the fool that had believed that he loved me and that was my only crime. I believed his sentiments.

With a sigh, I plucked my bag from my tiny couch and left my apartment. I had a job interview to go for.

My resume was exceptional for the job but I was still worried that I wouldn't be the prime candidate due to my five years break from cooking. It was during that five years, I had worked for Edward as his secretary. Worked for him for two and a half years and was married to him for two and a half.

The entire marriage had been a sham. A way to get his inheritance. I had always had a crush on him, so, his proposal has been a dream that quickly turned to a nightmare.

I had gotten a lot of money from the divorce as we'd agreed. It was sitting pretty in my bank account. It was enough to buy myself a small mansion and two sport cars but I wasn't going to touch it.

It felt like a betrayal of myself.

I quickly hailed a cab as soon as I got outside and slipped into the backseat. In less than twenty minutes, I was at the prestigious St. Louis restaurant where my interview was supposed to hold.

“Go in,” The waitress that I had met outside said as we reached the front of a white door.

I pushed the door open and was instantly blasted with the smell of spices, seasoning, and pepper.

A chef stood at the corner giving instructions in French, mixing in some English to a young man and woman. They both looked physically distressed and they seem to be in a hurry to cook.

“Who are you?” The chef noticed me. His name was written on a name tag.

Chef Grand.

“Hello, I'm here for my interview,” I said, feeling the tension suddenly rise like a tidal wave.

The brown haired- Chef stared at me blankly. Then gave me a once-over, his nose scrunched up in what I could only interpret as disgust.

“You're late!” He snapped.

I frowned.

I was definitely not late. If anything I was five minutes early.

“Actually, I'm early. Five minutes early to be precise.”

“Are you talking back?” He suddenly snapped and I blinked in confusion.

Was I in the right place ? It was supposed to be a practical interview but why did it sound like I was in a trial?

“Uh…no… It's just my interview was supposed to be 9am, it's 8:55am.”

The chef began to walk towards me, his expression dark and stormy.

I stood my ground, refusing to back down.

He stopped in front of me, tall and brooding. I didn't move, I just stood there, waiting for whatever he was about to say.

“A strong boned American,” he suddenly grinned. “No back down, no?” he added, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Um..” I wasn't sure how to respond.

“Wait outside. Your interview will start in three minutes,” he said. His English was perfect but there was a bit of a French accent that made me think he was absolutely sexy.

I nodded, confused by the interaction.

After exactly three minutes, the girl I had seen in the kitchen ran out crying.

I frowned but stood and walked back into the kitchen.

“Come in and show me what you got,” he waved me in and gave me instructions on the meal to make.

“You have thirty minutes,” Chef Grand said and I immediately got to work.

For some reason, everything in the kitchen was making me nauseated. I was convinced it was because of the spicy food the previous chef had made before I came in.

“Eloise, are you alright?” Chef Grand’s voice echoed and I glanced at him with a nod.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, his voice loud but tone soft.

“I'm okay,” I said again and went back to chopping my vegetables.

When I was done, I put everything into the pot and sighed in relief.

“I'm sorry Chef Grand but I need to use the bathroom,”

I turned to the brooding men. I could tell he wanted to say no but after taking a look at me nodded. I quickly went to the bathroom, timing myself. As soon as I entered, I noticed my face in the mirror. I looked puffy and tired.

I splashed water on my face and after a couple of seconds, I felt a lot better. I quickly ran back to the kitchen.

Chef Grand was waiting for me in the same spot he'd been when I had left.

He gave me a look as I came in but said nothing.

I checked the food. It wasn't ready yet and I had five more minutes.

I quickly got the juice and blended the fruit juice.

Two more minutes.

I poured the juice into a glass and served it on a tray.

“Fifty-nine seconds more,”

The chef said.

Shit. I cursed under my breath.

And quickly ran to the pot.

I poured the wine into the curry and waited.

“Twenty-five seconds!”

Gahd.

I got two mittens and brought down the pot.

“Ten seconds more,”

I carefully dished the curry, praying that it tasted good.

I was about to add some more seasoning when Chef Grand rang a bell.

“Times up!” He said. “Stop everything you're doing right now,”

I watched as he walked over and practically shooed me out of the way.

He picked up the plate of curry and took one taste. He scrunched up his face for a second and I froze.

He didn't like it. Shit.

“This is brilliant.” He suddenly said and my face brightened.

“The flavor, the taste. Good, very good.”

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“When can you resume work?” He asked.

“Monday,”

“Great, you're hired,”

****

I stood in the middle of the kitchen I had been working as the head chef of American cuisine for the last two weeks. To say I was happy was an understatement. Everyone was friendly. Even Chef Grand was a sweetheart…sometimes.

Everything was falling into place. I hadn't even thought about Edward in a while. I was too busy.

“Are you sure you are up for this?” Chef Grand asked, his eyes scanning my face that he swore was pale.

“I'm fine, Chef Grand. I promise. I took some meds and I feel great. Besides, I can't just leave. Who's going to make and supervise the making of the meals?”

“I'm just worried about you.” He said.

“Thank you. But I'm fine. Now, get some of the servers in here. The small chops are ready,”

Grand nodded before leaving. I sighed. He was right, I needed to rest but I couldn't. This party was important plus it was a chance to prove myself after the last mistake I made just a week ago.

The servers walked in just then and I instructed one of my kitchen assistants to arrange theirs trays and had it to them.

Everything was going smoothly and I was proud.

But soon, I had to start making more snacks.

Just then Grand walked in…

“How is everything going?” He asked.

“About to make some more…” I started to lose track of my thoughts. Before I could get myself back on track, I felt weakness and nausea come over me and before I could understand what was going on, my legs gave out on me and I fell to the ground, unconsciousness taking over.

****

My eyes flipped open and I found myself in a white room…no, a hospital room.

What the hell happened?

I frowned, looking around.

My eyes met with a tall man I assumed was the doctor as he walked in.

“You're awake,” he said, walking towards me.

“Yes, I am. How did I get here?”

I questioned.

“You fainted when you were working your job,”

“Really?”

I frowned. I must have been more exhausted than I thought.

“Yes. Congratulations by the way,”

“Congratulations? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you're pregnant,”