His Fresh Start ✔ (Book Three)

Chapter 1

Five years ago

I tied an apron behind my back and grabbed a couple of bell peppers from the paper bag on the table beside me. The scent of the fresh vegetables instantly filled the bistro kitchen. Going to the market was worth it. It might be time-consuming, but nothing compared to the freshness and taste of something that came straight from the garden.

Once the peppers were washed, I proceeded to dice them.

"Bonjour, garçon (boy)." Jean stood in the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips. "Are you making me breakfast?"

I nodded, focused on the task in front of me.

"Have you thought about it, Thierry?"

The playfulness was gone from Jean's voice. Merde (shit).

"Not yet, Jean."

"Why not?"

"If I didn't know better, I might have thought you wanted to get rid of me."

Jean washed his hands and stood next to me, grabbing a knife and a cutting board of his own.

It was our thing. Every time there was some serious shit to discuss, we did it either cooking or over a piece of apple pie.

"Opportunities like that are scarce, garçon. You know you're like the son I never had."

"And yet,  you're eager to send my ass overseas."

A chuckle escaped Jean's mouth.

I started to sink the knife into the poor vegetables with even more vigor.

Jean's hand grabbed the handle of my knife, halting my movements.

"You will listen this time unless you want me to bribe you with apple pies again."

I stopped what I was doing with a sigh.

"You're a talented chef, Thierry. More than that, you know the ins and outs of this business, as very few people do. You've been working your butt off for the last fifteen years. Of course, I love having you here. You turned my restaurant into a thriving business that will allow me to retire comfortably one day."

"Then why do you insist?"

"Because ever since you brought that diploma here with a proud grin on your face, I've known you deserve more. I want more for you than you working for me. I won't go anywhere. This place will be here every time you come to visit, and it will always be your home. Paris will always be your city."

"What about loyalty, Jean? After everything you've done for me, what would it say about me if I just left you here?"

Jean boomed with laughter. "Come on, really? I should be the least of your worries. I have my business and my wife. No kids for us, but I have you. We won't grow apart just because you're far."

"But the workload here is enormous; you know you need help."

"I'll manage."

Seventeen years old or thirty-two, I was shit at arguing with Jean. He always got the upper hand. I decided to use my last argument.

"Claude said the place is run-down, that's why the owners are selling it so cheap. It'll need tons of work."

"When did a ton of work scare you? Besides, Claude is an excellent businessman and a great friend. If he says the restaurant will be a success there, it will be."

I stood, staring at the kitchenware on the table in front of me.

"Are you chickening out, Thierry Fauber?" Jean smirked.