I was prepared for the interview, but was I prepared for Xavier?
An older woman with greying hair and a stern, cold face stepped out from the back and walked toward us. I straightened my posture, recognizing her instantly as the head chef - the woman I’d be training under if I got this job.
“You must be Kara Greene,” she stated, looking me up and down. Before I could answer, she added, “I’m Suzy Petrovich. Come with me.”
I looked at Julia, who shrugged, and followed Ms. Petrovich. The woman didn’t say a word as she led me into the back - which gave me a quick glimpse of the beautiful kitchen with all stainless-steel appliances - and through a door to the side. At the end of a dark hallway was a heavy wooden door. She walked me down the hallway and knocked.
“You may enter,” a male’s voice called from the other side.
Suzy opened the door and stepped inside. “Ms. Greene is here to see you, Mr. Bordeaux.”
Suzy stepped aside and motioned for me to enter. As soon as I walked past her, I saw Xavier behind the desk. He gracefully rose to greet me, towering over me by at least a foot. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe, much less talk, as it felt like all the oxygen had left the room. I just stared at him, transfixed on his piercing grey eyes.
He hadn’t changed a bit in the four years I'd been away. Not even one stray grey mixed with the raven black hair on his head. His hair was a little longer than I remembered, coming to almost his collar. It was styled nicely, silky with just a hint of natural wave to it. It took everything in my power not to reach out and try to touch it, just to make sure it was his real hair. It looked too perfect to be real.
Everything about Xavier seemed too good to be true. I never understood how a man could be so beautiful yet so manly at the same time. His skin was fair, which contrasted nicely with his dark hair, making his face appear to be carved from marble.
For a second, I felt like I was drowning in his presence. He reached out his hand, and I stopped staring into his eyes. As soon as we broke eye contact, I could breathe once more. The room felt calmer and more normal.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bordeaux,” I said, sliding my hand into his and giving it a firm shake.
Xavier didn’t say anything for a time, his grey eyes moving over me, inspecting me. He held onto my hand for a moment too long, then dropped it as if he’d forgotten he was holding it.
“Please, call me Xavier,” he offered. He looked past me at the chef in the doorway, whom I’d all but forgotten. “You may go now, Suzy. Thank you.”
I heard the door close behind us, leaving just the two of us alone. I met Xavier’s gaze and felt the same as before - as if the air had been sucked out of the room. I noticed how dark it was in there too, even darker than the dining room. Black curtains blocked the windows entirely, and except for a small vintage lamp on his desk, there was no other light source.
Still, Xavier seemed to glow across the desk. With all the darkness in the room, I remembered the dream the night before. If it wasn’t a completely ludicrous idea, I’d think that maybe he was really a vampire.
Xavier shifted in his seat, relaxing as he steeped his fingers in front of his face. The room felt less stifled all of a sudden and much more comfortable, as if he could control the tension in the room, but I knew I had to be imagining that as well.
“So Ms. Greene, care to get started?” he asked.
Xavier
“Yes, I’d love to.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she reached inside a portfolio she was holding.
I stole glances at her, and every time I looked, something shifted inside me. I recognized her name because she lived in the same neighborhood I did, just down the hill from my estate. Her family was fairly prominent in the community as well, but that wasn’t what made her familiar to me.
Strands of pale blonde hair fell loose from her updo as she looked down at the portfolio in her hand. She passed something to me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her - feeling a tug in the center of my body.
Her blue eyes were the color of the sea. That particular shade of blue was one I recognized well and had only seen once before. Her facial structure was delicate. A perfectly oval face with large, mesmerizing eyes. It was more than just the blonde hair and blue eyes that struck me as similar to my Isabelle; her entire bone structure, everything about her, was reminiscent of the woman I’d lost a century before.
It took me a moment to realize I hadn’t been listening to a word she said. I glanced down at the resume she had slipped across my desk, and I’d seen it before since she’d submitted it online only a week prior. Her credentials were impressive, especially for an introductory position. I had no one else in mind for the job, no one with an education like hers along with actual working experience in France too.
But I knew before we began the interview that I couldn’t hire her.
“Do you have any questions for me, Mr.—”
“Xavier,” I corrected her before she could finish her sentence.
“Yes, sorry. Do you have any questions for me, Xavier?” She stared at me with such hope in her eyes. I’d seen that look before, and I was still living with the pain from letting Isabelle into my life for a similar look.
I hated to crush the girl’s spirit. It wasn’t fair to her that she looked like my lost love, but I knew myself. I knew my limits. I couldn’t handle seeing her every day, seeing the resemblance and feeling the pain day in and day out. It was like the wound had never fully healed and being in her presence picked away at the scab, bringing all the pain back to the surface, raw and unwavering.
“I think that’ll be all, Ms. Greene, thank you.”
She blinked; her mouth open in surprise. “Really?” she asked me. “That’s it? You don’t want to ask me anything about my experiences in France or the dishes I’ve excelled at making, or what skills I can bring to your restaurant?”
“No, I think I’ve seen enough.” I flinched at my choice of words. I’d clearly based my decision on her appearance alone.
Kara’s perfectly pink lips pursed together, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. I couldn’t help but notice her suit, the way it hugged her petite, curvy body. The similarities to my Isabelle were unnerving.
I couldn’t afford being attracted to her; it wasn’t just about her resemblance to a past love of mine - I had a rule against getting close to humans. I saw the way she looked at me, I could feel her attraction to me, the heat emanating from her. I saw the way she licked her lips and batted her eyelashes when she looked at me. And my attraction to her, while less obvious, was causing tension already.
I couldn’t risk it.
Kara took a deep breath, and when she started talking, it felt like the floodgates had been lifted.
“When I was thirteen years old, my parents brought me to La Myrtille because it’s all I wanted for my birthday. Your restaurant had just opened a year prior and was outside my parent’s usual budget, but they brought me here because I begged and begged. That birthday changed my life, Xavier,” she stated, her voice passionate. “It was at that dinner that I first realized how special food could be, how a meal can be so important to someone. I discovered my love for fine dining that day, and I spent months and months trying to recreate some of your dishes at home. I’d found my calling in life, hosting dinner parties for friends to try new recipes, and later getting into one of the best culinary schools in the country. I specifically went to Paris for my internship, knowing you’re from there, where you trained. I knew I would one day be sitting here, in front of you. It’s always been my dream to come back to where my love of fine dining started. I’d appreciate it if you gave me more than two minutes of your time.”