Annihilate Me (Vol. 1) (The Annihilate Me Series) (20 page)

“Let
him try.
 
I’ll shut him down just as
I shut Blackwell down.
 
When I was
standing down there listening to her talk about misunderstandings, all I could
think of were all the times my father came to me for forgiveness.
 
Whatever he did to me was a
‘misunderstanding.’
 
Give me fucking
break.”

“Sometimes,
misunderstandings are genuine.”

“Sometimes,
they are.
 
And sometimes I think you’re
taking Alex’s side on this.”

“That’s
not the case, but as your best friend who has been through a lot with you, I
will say this—what happened between you and your father happened between
you and your father, not between you and Alexander Wenn.
 
Not everyone is your father,
Jennifer.
 
I understand why you have
trust issues—why the hell wouldn’t you at this point in your life?
 
But what I’d hate to see is you defining
every aspect of your life now by what happened to you in the past and the
actions of a different person.
 
Yes,
of course, use your past to inform your present.
 
Just don’t use it as an excuse to close
every door because it’s easier that way.
 
People are going to fail you repeatedly in life.
 
Sometimes, it will be intentional.
 
If it is, get rid of them as quickly as
possible.
 
But if it isn’t
intentional, or if they just did something stupid in the heat of the moment and
acted up?
 
Then hopefully you will
remember that none of us is perfect, and sometimes you need to think about
giving people a second chance.”

“That’s
how you feel about Alex?”

“I
don’t know Alex.
 
I only know what
you told me.
 
I couldn’t sleep last
night.
 
I thought a lot about the
situation, and I think what he did was childish.
 
Do I think it was done out of
malice?
 
That’s for you to answer.”

“I
have answered it.”

“Then
you’ve moved on, so it doesn’t matter.
 
Jennifer, I’m trying to give you some good advice.
 
I’m talking about your future, not
necessarily your present.
 
People
will hurt you—even good, imperfect people.
 
It’s unavoidable, and it’s not always
malicious.
 
The good ones will
genuinely regret what they did.
 
Should you just throw them away if they screw up?
 
It depends on what they did.
 
But if they were good to you in the past
or if you have a solid history together, I at least hope that you’d hear them
out.
 
Maybe your relationship will
deepen because of it.
 
But if you do
give them that chance and they blow it again?
 
That’s when you consider closing the
door and moving on for good.”

“I
couldn’t sleep last night either.”

“I
heard you tossing and turning.
 
I
imagine last night was difficult for you.
 
I laid out here wishing you could fall asleep, but I knew better.
 
What you went through yesterday was a
lot for anyone to handle—and I’m talking about the whole day.
 
But you’re still hot right now.
 
As you begin to cool off, expect to feel
conflicted about your decision.
 
Don’t say it won’t happen, because it will.
 
I believe you told me that you’ve never
been as attracted to anyone as you were to Alex.”

“That’s
true.”

“Then
be prepared for it.”

In
the kitchen, my cell rang.
 
I looked
at Jennifer, and said, “That didn’t take long.”
 
I went over to check the screen.
 
“Wenn Enterprises.”

“That’s
him, not Blackwell.
 
Blackwell had
her chance.”

“I’m
not answering it.”

“At
some point, you’re going to have to because this is only going to
escalate.
 
You’ll see.
 
I’m telling you, he’s not going to go
away.”

“Then
I’ll deal with it later.”

The
phone stopped ringing, a minute passed, and the phone dinged alerting me that
the caller had left a voicemail.

“Do
I really want to hear this?”

She
shrugged at me.

I
picked up the phone, looked at the voicemail and considered playing it, but
then I deleted it.
 
I put the phone
back on the counter, and without looking at Lisa, who probably thought I was
insane right then, walked into the bedroom to press my suit and to get ready
for the day.
 
I needed a job to pay
for that suit, not to mention the shoes.
 
Or my rent.
 
Or the food I
needed to buy so I could eat.
 
I had
to pick myself up and get back to it, only with a different plan.
 
I’d become a server by night, and I’d
look for better jobs during the day.
 
That would be my focus.

Only,
it wasn’t.
 
As I was about to find
out, Alexander Wenn planned to make certain of that.

BO
OK TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Over
the next several days—and ironically with the help of my MBA—luck
finally struck.
 
My mood soared,
even though Alex was relentless in his phone calls, none of which I answered.
 
Eventually, he’d lay off.
 
I just needed to wait him out and forget
him, no matter how strong my initial attraction to him was.

After
interviewing for a dozen server positions at top restaurants—none of
which I got—I interviewed to be the assistant manager at db Bistro
Moderne, an exclusive restaurant owned by the renowned chef, Daniel
Boulud.
 

Boulud
himself was in town so he interviewed me along with the general manager,
Stephen Row.
 
Each was warm and
charming.
 
We got along famously,
and I got the job on the strength of my interview, particularly on the part
when Boulud asked me how I saw the position.

“The
first priority is customer satisfaction,” I said.
 
“It always is, as is ensuring
professional service.
 
The second is
assisting Mr. Row.
 
I imagine that I
would help to oversee the front of the house floor staff, float during service
time, and make certain that the staff is abiding by the restaurant’s policies
and procedures.
 
This is why I
received my MBA—to manage effectively and efficiently.
 
I’m ready for that.”

I
heard back from them a few days later, and I got the job.
 
The salary was more than generous, as
was the benefits package.
 
It was a
far cry from the money Alex had offered me—not to mention the perks—but
I couldn’t have been happier.
 
I
could more than live off my wages.
 
I could pay my bills—including those for my anxiety-inducing Prada
suit and shoes—which was huge for me.
 
And with this sort of high-profile
management experience under my belt, better jobs would follow and all of those
closed doors I met for months might finally be open to me one day.

The
restaurant was located at Fifty-Five West Forty-Fourth Street, which was hardly
within walking distance to our apartment, but given that I now had a bit of
disposable money, taking a cab wasn’t an issue.
 
During our first few days working
together, Stephen was helpful, but thankfully, he wasn’t a micromanager.
 
He was a handsome man in his
mid-thirties with a shock of blond hair and hazel eyes framed with green flecks
along the circumference.
 
He was a
true professional, and what he expected from me was simple:
 
manage the staff, assist him when he
needed to lean on me, and also—what I found really thrilling about the
job—use my eye to help keep the restaurant on trend.

“Obviously,
we’ll leave the food to Mr. Boulud,” Stephen said.
 
“But you have style, Jennifer, and
you’re very bright.
 
At this point,
that’s clear to all of us.
 
You look
and dress impeccably.
 
You’re also
young and, if I might say, all of the staff agrees that you are stunning, which
is a bonus.
 
You’re exactly who we
need to spot where the city is going next, not where the city is stuck
now.
 
One night each week—a
work night—I want you to take a friend and go to the city’s newest hot
spots.
 
Eat a variety of foods.
 
Put it on your corporate card.”

“I
have a corporate card?”

He
handed me a Visa Signature Card, which I knew was one of the most difficult
cards to get from Visa because the credit limit was so high.
 
The card was in my name.
 
I felt a thrill.
 

“You
do now,” he said.
 
“And don’t go
cheap.”

“How
could I with this card?”

“We
don’t expect you to buy diamonds with it, Jennifer.”

“A
girl can dream.”

He
smiled at me.
 
“Try as many dishes
as you can stomach.
 
Just taste
them, savor them, and then move on to the next dish.
 
I can get you into any restaurant you
want, so let me know what you’re hearing and where you want to go.
 
I might make my own suggestions.
 
We’ll see.
 
Either way, I’ll make sure you get a
good table.
 
Then I need you to
report back to me the next day on what the experience was like.
 
That’s how we keep ahead of the
competition.
 
That’s how we trump
it.”

It
was a dream job.
 
And finally, I
could treat Lisa, which was important to me.
 
She’d listened to my tragic romantic
woes for far too long at this point and put up with my lack of cash for
months.
 
Now, I could shower her
with a night out with drinks and good food once every week, which was perfect
because she was a total foodie and would appreciate it.
 
She also would likely offer her own take
on the quality.
 
When I went home
with the card and told her of my new perks, she hugged me.
 
“I’m so subscribing to the
Times
online right now, so I can check out the
food columns.
 
We are going to get
fat!”

“Oh,
no, we aren’t.
 
Unless your zombies
can chew the fat off us.”

“I
can make that happen.”

After
a good week on the job, I had the rhythm down.
 
Stephen and I worked intuitively
together, and we enjoyed each other, which was key.
    
The servers were polite
and professional—watching them work so seamlessly within such a narrow
space only built my respect and admiration for what they did.
 
Good service was not easy.
 
But when it seemed easy and when the
food was great, as it was here, the guests generally had a superb experience.
 

After
so long in New York, I finally felt as if I belonged somewhere, and not just
any somewhere because I knew that my job was coveted.
 
I felt blessed and happy.
 
And in two days, Lisa and I would go out
to dinner at one of the city’s hot new restaurants that was drawing raves from
the press.
 
I told Stephen that I’d
like to begin at a new restaurant called Blue.
 
He’d read about in the
Times
, and he made it happen.

“How
did you do that?” I asked.
 
“They
must have been booked weeks in advance.”

“Actually,
months.
 
But don’t worry about
it.
 
Wherever you need to get into,
just let me know.
 
I can even get
you and your girlfriend into the city’s best clubs on your nights off.”

“You
can?”

“Mmm-hmm.
 
It’s my pleasure.
 
And I can’t wait to hear what Blue is
doing.
 
Try as much food as you can,
even if it’s only a few bites, then order more and report back.”

Was
I in heaven?
 
Apparently I was.
 
Blue focused on seafood, which Lisa and
I both loved.

“Have
fun,” Stephen said.
 
“I want to hear
about atmosphere, quality of service, quality of food and drink, what their
best selections look like—all of it.”