perfect, despite the lack of makeup and probable lack of sleep.She looked like a model dressing like a chef for a photo shoot, but more Town and Country than Cosmo.
Violet had dressed for comfort and physical labor. Sheâd pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over jeans and had worn scuffed ankle boots. Despite the fact that she wore the more practical clothes, she felt as if sheâd misread the invitation and had shown up in shorts for a fancy dress ball.
âHereâs my diagram,â Jenna said, pointing at several sheets of paper tacked to the wall. âObviously the kitchen is in back. I ordered a few new things for that and theyâll go in the cupboards under the counters. Iâm organizing everything else by function. Pots and pans together, bakeware. You get the idea.â
She quickly went through the layout.
âA woman with a plan,â Violet said. âWhy donât I take some of this trash out to the Dumpster? Most of it can go in the recycling bins.â
âGreat. Iâve been avoiding the boxes of ceramic bowls. I canât begin to imagine how many layers of packing material are in those. With you here, I think I can be brave.â
They worked for the next couple of hours. Together they wrestled the impressively large mixers into place. Jenna did her share of ripping up cardboard and stacking supplies, which surprised Violet. A lot of bosses were more into gesturing about how the work should be done than actually participating.
Despite the physical labor, Jenna didnât break a sweat. Violet felt distinctively damp, but rather than be annoyed, she told herself she would have to accept the fact that her new boss was one of those perfect people. Perfectly organized, perfectly disciplined, perfectly elegant in every situation. Violet had always meant to be perfectâ¦one day. Butsomewhere during her life journey, sheâd made an imperfect turn and never recovered.
Around ten-thirty, they took a break. Jenna had already stocked the small refrigerator under the counter with diet Snapple and handed out a bottle of unsweetened tea. They sank onto the floor.
Jenna stared around at the piles of merchandise. âItâs going to get better, right? If itâs not, itâs okay to lie to me and say it is.â
Violet uncapped her bottle and took a drink. âItâs going to be great. Youâll see. In the future, the boxes will only arrive a few at a time. That makes it easier.â
âI hope so. The worst Iâve had to deal with in a restaurant is finding out the beef I ordered hadnât been butchered.â
Violet stared at her. âAs in it was still a cow?â
âPractically. I had to prepare all the steaks myself. Let me just say, making tomahawks all afternoon strains the wrist.â
Violet must have looked blank because Jenna added, âItâs rib eye steak with a frenched rib bone.â
âRight.â As if that made anything more clear, Violet thought. âDoes being able to cut your own steaks make you more or less popular with the guys?â
Jenna grinned. âIt was important to prove myself in the kitchen. A little butchering can go a long way.â Her smile faded. âI was always better at that than Aaron. Probably another reason why things didnât work out.â She stared at her Snapple for a second, before raising her head. âIâm in the middle of a divorce. Paperwork is signed. Weâre waiting out the time.â
A divorce. Violet hadnât seen that one coming. âIâm sorry,â she said automatically. âDo you miss him?â
Jenna shrugged. âYouâd think I would.â She paused, as if thinking. âI miss what used to be good. When we workedtogether. In the past year or so, I couldnât do anything right. Or so he said.â
Jenna stopped talking abruptly, as if she hadnât meant to say that much.
âI know what you mean,â Violet said