I misheard." He took a few steps towards her and looked directly into her eyes. "It's best if we carry on using tu. What do you say?"
Chantal was lost in his stare, unable to decide if she was in heaven or hell.
She snapped out of it and found the strength for a smile and a response.
"Fine by me."
"Great," he replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Have you already had breakfast? I left you someth..."
"It was the best breakfast I've ever had," Chantal replied, feeling a touch embarrassed by the overfamiliarity of Alfredo's hand.
"Really?" exclaimed Alfredo, as he tightened his grip.
Again, the sensation in the pit of her stomach left Chantal wondering if she were in heaven or hell.
"The jam was absolutely..."
"Delicious?" he ventured.
"That wouldn't do it justice."
"I see. So what word would do it justice then?" he asked, finally relaxing his grip on the girl's shoulder.
"I think 'exquisite' sums it up very nicely," she replied, relieved to be free from his grasp. "And there's plenty more compliments where that came from."
"Chantal, you're too kind."
"But it's true."
"If you insist. All that matters is that you liked it. I'm pleased. The jam's homemade, by me."
He paused and smiled, looking straight into Chantal eyes. She lowered her gaze and felt her face redden.
"If we have a bit of spare time, I can show you how I do it."
Chantal looked up at him, and he saw she looked puzzled.
"The jam, I mean," he clarified. "I'll teach you every trick in the book, and you'll be making exquisite jams in no time!"
"Oh, I'd love that!" she replied, holding his gaze for a split second.
"It's a date!" He turned around and gestured towards the Kadett. "Could you give me a hand with the shopping?"
Chantal watched as he opened the boot, which contained several large bags. She realised at that very moment that she'd been hired. No need for an interview. Unless the few words they'd just exchanged counted and were enough to convince him she was the right person for the job.
"Sure, I'm intrigued to see what you've bought."
CHAPTER 15
Perhaps Chantal's luck had changed. Perhaps God had finally realised that even she needed some respite from all the crap.
She finally felt like she was living again, rather than just surviving.
Another line crossed.
Unbeknown to Chantal, Alfredo poked his head into the pantry.
"Hey! I see you've already put everything away."
His voice jarred her out of her thoughts.
"Nearly everything," she confessed after a moment's hesitation, pointing to a shopping bag still on the floor.
Around an hour earlier, Alfredo had given her a brief overview of how things worked at the B&B before showing her the pantry and issuing a few vague instructions. She'd done her best and tried to remember what he'd suggested. She smiled. It looked as though she'd succeeded.
"You're very quick and very thorough..." Alfredo stroked his chin, debating whether to say what was on the tip of his tongue.
Chantal looked up at him, inviting him to go on.
He smiled thinly and continued.
"If I'd have known, I'd have hired you years ago."
She tried to suppress the smile that was forming at the edges of her mouth. She wasn't used to compliments. None of her previous bosses had given her any, not even Signor Ferruccio from Lilly's Snack Bar, and he'd been the nicest of them all.
She looked down, shifting her gaze away from Alfredo. Unable to suppress the smile any longer, she turned towards the open cupboard door and pretended to check what she'd already put away.
"That's very kind of you," she said, doing her utmost to keep her excitement in check, "but isn't it a bit early to be showering me with praise? I've only done one job for you!"
Alfredo coughed twice to clear his throat.
"Look, Chantal..."
He coughed again to buy himself the time he needed to rearrange what he wanted to say.
"I've been doing this for quite a few years now. Running a B&B..."
He paused for a moment to watch the graceful movements of Chantal's shapely body.
His voice came out hoarse, but to Chantal it was like birdsong.
"...and I've seen a lot of girls over that time, believe me. Loads of them accept that they have to do the work, but not many really want to be doing it. And even fewer actually manage to do it well..."
He took a couple of steps towards her.
"You do it very well, Chantal. I don't need months of observing you to know that. I suspected as much in the chat room, and now I know for sure."
This time, Chantal had no choice but to turn and meet the gaze of her new employer. She didn't feel it was necessary to hide her smile any longer.
"I'm pleased you think so highly of me."
His response was immediate.
"I'm pleased to have found a girl like you."
She smiled again.
"Have there really been that many girls who have worked here?"
Alfredo looked up at the ceiling and his head began to nod as if he were counting every single girl as their image passed in front of his eyes.
Then, suddenly, he looked directly at her again.
Heaven or hell?
"There's been so many I've lost count."
Chantal decided he was being genuine. She felt like the time had come to ask him the question she had wanted to put to him as soon as he'd offered her the job. But not just yet.
"So, what became of them? Did you fire them all?" she added jokingly, accompanying her question with yet another smile.
Alfredo seemed a bit put out.
Chantal sensed he'd had problems with some of the girls. Too many sick days, trouble with the unions, hands in the till. That kind of thing.
"To tell
