But now, after nearly dying at the hands of my wife’s ex-boyfriend and the feeling I had that he returned, I despised the dark. The dark was an infinite space of secrets, hiding the most dangerous to the most vulnerable. I felt exposed. There was a shadow hanging out in the darkness and I didn’t know how to chase it.
I didn’t have any proof that Julian had found us. It was a mere feeling. My newfound sense of his presence didn’t allow me to argue with Lena when she suggested we change the password. I played it off, telling her it was probably a good idea to change it every now and then anyway.
Lena and I were still in unknown territory as far as our marriage was concerned. Her behavior hadn’t changed since the night of the dinner. She was still distant, all while pretending everything was fine.
Three days ago, the day she wanted to change the security code, she’d also told me about her new job. I was thrilled. Thrilled that Lena had found a job where she could thrive. A place where she was appreciated. She had worked hard, fighting tooth and nail to build her business and now it was finally paying off. I guess, in a sense, that was a silver lining. Despite the rockiness of our marriage, it was a slight reassurance to know we were putting down roots in Seattle.
I’m in the kitchen, adding the finishing touches to one of the dishes that needs to go out when Natalie walks up to me from the other side of the counter. Tonight is the last night of her training to close and my job was to let her take control without interfering. It felt good to be in the kitchen cooking again. It felt like ages since I could be a chef versus a manager. I pass my finished dish to Natalie. I purposefully left out an ingredient, testing her to see if she notices.
She studies the plate for a moment, twisting her mouth in thought. Her forehead creases as her eyebrows dip. “You forgot the side of pickled radishes.” She passes it back to me, grinning.
“Great job.” I must hand it to Natalie. Every night this week, she's paid attention and stayed focused. It was a relief. She had shown me another side of her, sharing bits and pieces of her background. I understood her more and began to value having her work with us.
“Honestly, I didn’t think she’d pull it off,” Paul, one of my line cooks, says glancing over his shoulder as he sears a filet of salmon.
Natalie rolls her eyes and allows one of our waitresses to deliver the plate to the table. “Sure, laugh it up Paul.”
Paul shrugs. “Hey, it comes with the territory. It’s a rite of passage around here.” Paul turns back to his filet, carefully placing it down on one of the last plates of the night.
We’re on the final round of reservations for the night and I’m thankful my last training shift was coming to an end. Although, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the drive home either. Every night brought on a new sense of paranoia I couldn’t shake. Constant checks through my rearview mirror, switching lanes every few miles. All to ensure I wasn’t being followed. I couldn’t shake the feeling I had the day Natalie and I were at the market. I knew I was being followed, even if I hadn’t seen him.
The rest of the night passes in a flash. Once all the sections are closed and all the waitstaff and chefs have gone home, Natalie and I finish up the final paperwork in my office. I lean back in Max’s chair as Natalie finishes gathering all the data and inputting it into my computer.
I’m holding my phone in my hands, switching between my Instagram feed and open conversation with Lena. She hasn’t messaged me since earlier in the day, only telling me she had made payments on some of the bills we owed for the month.
Lately, our conversations had been much of the same. I scroll through our texts over the last several days, rereading them to see how we’ve changed. There were far less ‘miss yous’ and ‘see you when I get homes’. It was almost as if Lena and I were unwittingly shifted into autopilot mode. Only keeping our text exchanges to the bare minimum.
My chest sinks and a lump forms in my throat. I swallow around it, struggling to figure out how Lena and I can get back to the way we used to be.
“Okay,” Natalie says, twisting in her chair. “I compared our sales from last year and our profits are up twelve percent. That’s amazing.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Max has worked very hard to build this restaurant and make it what it is today. That’s why we run those reports. Tells us we must be doing something right.” I lean forward, resting my elbow on my knee and point. “Now the key is, how do we make sure that number goes up again next year, on the same day?”
Natalie leans forward in her seat, mimicking me, resting her elbow on the desk. She’s closer to me now, her knees practically brushing against mine. I instinctively pull back.
She shrugs one shoulder, staring at me with hooded eyes. The same feeling washes over me, bringing me back to the way she was when she first started. “I’m going to take a guess and say build a strong marketing strategy and improve on our food and service.”
“Good guess,” I say. I close out my phone and stand. “Well, seems like my work here is done.”
Natalie grins, turning to head toward her locker as she has every night we’ve closed together. I lock my office and meet her by the front door. She’s removed her chef jacket, wearing a simple tank top. I’m surprised she’s wearing it since the weather has now become cooler at night.
She
