Crush du Jour Read Online Free Page A

determinedly.
    “Anyone can make French onion soup,” I continued, “but what about baking and toasting your own croutons?”
    Nora cleared her throat and waved her hands at me. “I don’t think fresh-baked croutons are very practical,” she said. “We don’t have a bread machine here, and I don’t think you’ll have enough time in class to wait for dough to rise.”
    I nodded shortly. “Check. No bread.”
    “Seth? What would you choose?”
    Seth pursed his lips together, appearing to think the question through. After a moment of concentration, he sat up.
    “Well, I think sandwiches are a good way to go for one of the earlier lessons, since they’re versatile and also easy. I’d start with cold cuts and cheese. Peanut butter and jelly or other standards can be tricky because of food allergies.”
    Ooh. I wanted to wipe the smug expression off his face with a butter knife. But he must have been going in the right direction, because Nora was beaming at him like he’d just single-handedly carved a twenty-pound Thanksgiving turkey.
    “It’s a great idea to start with sandwiches,” Nora gushed. I may have been a little slow this afternoon, but as a general rule I was no dummy. She was totally into Seth and thought he was an awesome instructor. That annoyed me. I liked to be the teacher’s pet. Gross, but true.
    “I think week one would be a quick overview of the course, and a refresher on kitchen safety,” Seth added smugly. Nora nodded so enthusiastically that I was afraidher head was going to snap off at the base of her neck.
    OMG, he was so the teacher’s pet.
    Obviously, sandwiches were not exactly haute cuisine. Technically, sandwiches aren’t even cooking. I had to admit, that sort of bugged me a little bit. Nora and Seth seemed really into precision, whereas I was a little bit more about shooting from the hip in the kitchen. My creativity was the most important thing that I could bring to my students’ table. And it looked like creativity wasn’t what Nora wanted.
    But I decided that didn’t matter. The goal, for now, was to get the job. After all, I needed the experience, and I needed the money. I may have found a deli sandwich to be a sort of … uninspired choice for the class, but I needed to find a way to believe in that sandwich, believe in it to my very core.
    And believe in that sandwich I did.
    “He really said that? Kitchen safety?”
    Anna and I were camped out at Scoops, a local ice cream parlor set up like an old-fashioned soda shop. You know, one of those places that spell it with the extra letters:SODA SHOPPE. Despite the fact that Anna’s day job had not gotten any easier since the last time I had seen her, my own dire circumstances made an emergency rehash necessary.
    Besides, I was doing most of the talking.
    “He really did,” I confirmed, slurping forlornly at my root beer float. I narrowed my eyes. “And he disagreed with my choice to teach French onion soup, too. Why, Anna?” I pushed my float away from me and leaned into her, grasping at the collar of her terry-cloth hoodie— ”Why would someone want to sabotage me that way?”
    Anna took a second to pry my vicelike fingers off her person. “I don’t know, Laine,” she replied, pushing me back. “I wasn’t there.”
    “But you admit that it’s weird?” I pressed.
    Anna sighed. She knew we weren’t going anywhere until she told me what I wanted to hear. “It’s weird,” she agreed, “unless—”
    “No, no ’unless’!” I shrieked. A couple at the booth next to us shot me a look. “No ’unless,’” I repeated, this time at a more reasonable volume. “It’s just weird.”
    ”Unless,” Anna continued firmly, “he wasn’t trying to sabotage you. I mean,maybe he just really thinks that cold cuts are the foundation of a healthy latchkey diet.”
    “He’s just hot enough to sell that crazy theory, too.” The whole experience had made me extremely flustered and a little bit bitter.
    Anna nodded.