I push that feeling away, compose myself, and stride through the double doors. Just inside, the hired staff is waiting in a long line to greet me. They’re dressed in matching outfits of black pants and white aprons.
I spot Jessa immediately. She’s dressed in a freshly pressed white chef’s coat with the words “Sous Chef” stitched over her right breast. Her blonde hair has been combed back into a tight bun and her makeup is subtle and understated.
Her chin is lifted, professional—and then she sees me.
Then, just like Yulian, she runs the gamut of emotions. Surprise, denial, acceptance, anger, fear. Her eyebrows pull together, her mouth pulling down in a deep frown.
She clearly had no idea this night was meant just for her.
I ignore her for the time being and plant myself in front of the
