The Wolf’s Fake Mate by Layla Silver
Chapter 2 – Hailey
When I learned that the Head Chef of the ski resort’s new hotel restaurant would be none other than Silas Petterson, I was beyond ecstatic. His establishment in Boston, Fuzion, had earned the 5-star rating years ago. I’d never been there; it simply wasn’t possible back when I was a high school student. And now that I returned to New England and was unemployed, a visit was even less likely. However, my lack of a job actually made me happier about the hotel restaurant opening. They were seeking an Assistant Chef. This job was my chance!
Sure, I’d only worked in a fast-food joint and a diner so far. However, that fact wasn’t a sign that I was bad at my job. I, Hailey Morran, didn’t believe that I wasn’t good enough for Silas Petterson’s new restaurant, Sun and Moon. I didn’t. Really. All I had to do was convince the interviewer of my skills, and I would let nothing stand in my way of completing this mission.
The first step was already done: I’d been invited to a job interview. I dressed up as best as I could, in a white blouse and a tight black pencil skirt. My high heels clicked as I made my way up the stairs to the hotel. With every step I grew more and more nervous, more and more unsure, but—dammit—I wouldn’t show it.
I entered the spacious and well-lit lobby and approached the receptionist. She was a petite blond woman in her late 20s—around my age. She looked up from the book she was reading and smiled politely.
“How can I help you?” she asked in a pleasant tone.
“I’m here for the job interview for Assistant Chef at Sun and Moon,” I replied, putting as much confidence as I could muster into each of my words. “Hailey Morran.”
“Ms. Morran…” the receptionist checked my name in her book. “Ah, yes. Job interview at 10:30 a.m. Please follow me.”
I followed her to the door on the left, again admiring the restaurant’s decor. The first time I was here, at the resort’s opening dinner, I had expected something modern and so minimalistic that it would seem cold. Yet, the place looked warm and cozy with brown wooden wall panels and beige cushioned chairs. Dark green tablecloths provided a final aura of elegance to the establishment. The only thing that the restaurant lacked were the pleasant smells of food and the chatter of guests. But I remembered how it had been on the hotel’s opening day, with guests here, satisfied with the service and their meals.
I fell in love with Sun and Moon at first glance.
The receptionist stopped in front of one of the doors in the back. It lacked a nameplate. She knocked on the door gently.
“Come in,” a male voice answered—or rather almost purred in low and smooth tones. Involuntarily, I shivered and felt my inner wolf take notice.
The blonde looked at me expectantly, and I realized it was my queue to enter. I braced myself, putting aside the feelings the voice had evoked in me.
I opened the door and entered, announcing myself. “Hailey Morran, here for the interview for Assistant Chef.”
The sight of an unbelievably handsome man sitting behind a mahogany desk met me. His hair was dirty blond, his build slim but athletic. His features had an innocence to them: they were almost angelic in their nature. And yet, when I looked into his blue-gray eyes like the sea ravaged by a storm, all thoughts of innocence evaporated from my mind. There was a heat to that gaze that made me imagine things entirely inappropriate for a job interview. And it didn’t help that I felt my wolf stirring inside me, far too interested for my comfort.
Focus, Hailey. You’re here for the job. You’re here to slay it. Don’t get distracted.
Wait, I recognized this man from somewhere… wasn’t this Silas Petterson himself?!
I controlled my response, grateful that I hadn’t gaped at my interviewer open-mouthed. I showed him my professional smile instead.
The angelic man smirked back at me. His expression was boyish, and he had a dimple in his right cheek. My knees went weak.
“Please sit down.” He gestured to the seat in front of him. Sitting was a good idea: I didn’t know how long I could stand steadily anymore.
I sat down, and when I heard his next words, I was grateful I had done so. “I’m Silas Petterson. I will be your interviewer today.”
I let none of my turmoil show. I simply nodded and continued to smile professionally. I had to pat myself on the back for all my self-control: the result of years of experience. I wasn’t called the Ice Queen by my peers for nothing.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of being interviewed by the Head Chief of Sun and Moon?” I asked politely.
“I interview all of my potential employees personally,” Silas… Mr. Petterson answered. Oh. And you already convinced yourself you were special, Hailey. “However, even if that were not the case,” he continued, “I would have made an exception for you, Ms. Morran.”
“Why?” I couldn’t help but ask. Was I special to him after all? Wait, why did I want to be special to Silas Petterson so much?
“I heard good things about you,” he noted. I looked at him, not hiding my surprise this time. “From the Alpha.”
Ah, Kaia Palmer, the pack’s new Alpha, must have heard that I had applied to this job from my family when she had visited us to check on our accommodations. This development was both good and bad. I hoped I would live up to the expectations Kaia must have given Mr. Petterson about me.
“I understand. I’ll make sure to thank Kaia for the recommendation.” I nodded.
“So polite,” Mr. Petterson chuckled.
I didn’t answer his comment. What was so weird about being grateful for someone looking out for you? After a pause, my interviewer cleared his throat. He looked at a piece of paper lying in front of him and picked up a fountain pen.
“Let me ask you a few simple questions, then,” Mr. Petterson continued in a polite and professional tone, none of the previous friendliness present. I braced myself. This was it. Now I had to sink or swim. “Let’s start with something simple. Why did you decide to become a chef?”
I licked my lips and noticed that the man in front of me followed the movement with intense focus. I didn’t let that observation distract me though. I had prepared for this question. All I needed to do was tell the truth.
“I’m the eldest in a family of five daughters, raised by a single mother. My father died when I was young,” I answered honestly.
“My condolences.” Mr Petterson looked sad.
“It’s in the past,” I added. “I was often left alone to take care of my sisters, and I would cook for them. At first I hated it—cooking for so many people, each with their own likes and dislikes? It wasn’t a simple task. But then I realized that it was an amazing outlet for my creativity. And I treated it like a challenge to make the most interesting dishes with whatever ingredients I had. I like challenges.”
“Hmm, that’s a good quality to have,” my interviewer answered. “Did you go to culinary school?”
“Yes, to Boston School of Gastronomy.”
“That’s the one I graduated from.”
I nodded. I knew that fact. Silas Petterson was the pride and joy of our school. Our teachers never let us forget that he was one of our graduates. When I was a third-year student, his restaurant Fuzion earned its first 5 star rating. Silas Petterson was… 24 back then. A true prodigy.
Next were the work-related questions about topics such as how to pair wine and food, my wine knowledge, and food safety. I answered everything to the best of my ability. Mr. Petterson seemed satisfied with my replies.
Then the last question came: the one I wished he hadn’t asked.
“Is there a chef you admire?” he queried, and suddenly I was at a loss for words. Should I answer truthfully? Or should I just name someone famous? But what if he asked me something about that person that I didn’t know? And suddenly I couldn’t remember any famous chefs at all.
“Well?” Mr. Petterson broke the silence.
I sighed. There was no way out of this situation. I needed to tell him the truth. “It’s a bit embarrassing to say but… actually it’s you, Mr. Petterson,” I managed to finally get the words out.
“Pardon?” He looked at me, surprised.
“You’re the chef I admire,” I repeated. If the ground had opened in front of me, I would have jumped right into the hole. I looked at my hands, and I was sure my face was beet red.
“I… see,” the man in front of me answered, and I looked up at him through my lashes. His cheeks were colored pink too. Oh gosh. I had managed to embarrass Silas Petterson. Congratulations, Hailey. There goes your chance at the job of your dreams.
“Are there any questions you would like to ask me? About the job, I mean,” my interviewer added, and I knew my last mortifying statement had officially screwed me.
I asked him the few questions I had, and he answered politely. Then the interview was over, and he led me to the door. We said our goodbyes, and he assured me that he would call regardless of his decision. I went back through the restaurant, past the smiling receptionist and out the door of the ski resort. Only then did I allow myself to breathe. If I hadn’t been wearing heels I would have ran back home.
I wanted to cry from embarrassment. How could I fuck up this chance so badly? It had gone so well, and then I had to destroy it with one stupid confession. I bet I sounded like a lovestruck high school girl. I actually admitted that he was the chef I admired; not some French super-chef. No—him, Silas Petterson.
And the stupidest thing was the fact that it was the truth.
***
All I wanted was to be alone. However, being alone was hardly possible when one lived in a house with one’s mother, three younger sisters, and a meddling aunt. My sister Gabriella was getting married in a little over a month. The kitchen table was full of wedding hairstyle magazines, and my three sisters, mother, and aunt talked over each other as they attempted to choose the perfect one for the bride.
I tried to sneak past them, but my mother spotted me. “Oh, Hailey, you’re here! How did the interview go?”
“It was… good,” I lied, not wanting to worry her.
“Hailey! Have you found a partner for the wedding yet?” one of my sisters, Laurene, asked me. It was the question I detested the most. To my sisters, the most critical wedding detail was who would be the lucky bachelor to end up being their dance partner at the wedding.
If possible, Aunt Evangeline was even worse. “The neighbor’s boy is such a nice man. Maybe he should accompany our Hailey.” The neighbor’s son, Paul, was indeed kind. However, he was six years younger than me; and not very bright. Laurene smirked, but Aunt Evangeline was oblivious and continued her line of thought. “Maybe I should ask him out for you. What do you think, love?”
This conversation was beyond embarrassing. I excused myself and ran up to my room, Laurene’s laughter trailing behind me.
I closed my door and locked it, then took off my shoes and threw myself on the bed. I was uncomfortable in my interview outfit, but I didn’t care. Could this day have been any worse?
What was wrong with me? I had lived all my life among wolves—first with this pack, then with another in Florida after Mom didn’t want us around the previous Alpha, Jett, though we never quite felt like we belonged with the Florida pack. And now, with Kaia taking over and the pack here being stronger, we were back in New England. Yet, I couldn’t find a mate to spend the rest of my life with—the one person who would make me feel safe enough to open up. I’d never been a fan of one-night-stands either. Somehow I just couldn’t let myself go and enjoy some no-strings-attached fun. Laurene often made fun of me and said that I wouldn’t be so high-strung if I weren’t so sexually frustrated. My sister didn’t know shit about me—because she had never cared enough about me to get to know me.
Meanwhile, Gabriella lived in her own world; and ever since she had met Tobias Russell in Florida, she was even less approachable, especially since Tobias and the other Russells had packed up to follow us here. My best and only friend was Waverly, the youngest of our family. She was, however, a gentle artistic soul and didn’t understand some of my struggles. Sometimes I felt we were too different to communicate honestly.
I’d heard that your mate felt like the other half of your soul, that meeting them was an earth-shattering event, and that mates understood each other so deeply that they could talk without words. Gabriella often spoke about the way Tobias made her feel. Honestly, it sounded too romantic to be believable. I had my doubts that I would ever feel that way. And regardless, I’d first have to meet my mate, which wasn’t going to happen either. I was 28 and had not run across them yet, and I wasn’t getting any younger.
My priority had to be to focus on the present. Right now, my main problem was the lack of a job. Without work, I couldn’t support Mom the way I wanted to. I had to admit the truth to myself—I’d fucked up the interview with Silas Petterson. He wasn’t going to call me back, and if he did, it was only to tell me he was not interested in working with me.
I had to figure out what to do next, but… I felt so drowsy from all the stress. It didn’t take long before I curled into a ball on my bed and fell asleep.
My stress-riddled dreams were chaotic and angsty. I was in my wolf form, and I ran through the forest. Snow crunched underneath my paws, and the smell of pine trees filled the air. What was I running from? I didn’t know. Or rather, I knew too well but didn’t want to admit it. In my dreams, I was always running with no escape, afraid to face what chased me.
Suddenly, there was a loud, ear-piercing sound. The most annoying melody filled the air of the woods. Wait, I knew this song…
I woke up with a start, realizing that the maddening sound was the ringtone of my phone. I had purposefully set it to the stupidest, most embarrassing song so that I would find the phone in my purse and pick the call up more quickly. My method usually worked wonders.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, stop ringing, I thought as I picked up the call from an unknown number. “Yes?” I answered simply and softly, my voice sounding half asleep. I cleared my throat and tried again, more firmly this time. “Hailey Morran. How can I help you?” I managed to sound slightly more awake; however, it was far from perfect.
“Miss Morran, Silas Petterson on the phone,” the silky voice said right in my ear, a hint of amusement in its tone. Oh, fuck me, I cursed internally. I didn’t think he would call so soon. Wait… the view outside the window clearly showed the sun setting behind the line of trees?! How long had I been out? Sure, I’d barely slept at all before the interview… but a six or seven hour nap?! That was criminal!
“...Do you accept?” Mr. Petterson asked, and I realized I hadn’t been listening at all. Sure, I’d heard him speak and let it wash over me like a pleasant sea wave, but I hadn’t absorbed any words.
“Pardon? Could you repeat what you just said?” I asked, again embarrassed for making a mistake in front of him.
“I said I’d like to invite you to come in for a day to try out as one of our Assistant Chefs at Sun and Moon,” Mr. Petterson said, even more amused now. It was clear that he knew he’d just woken me up and was enjoying the conversation with sleepy me.
Wait… what did he say?! Did I just get through the initial screening?!
“Do you accept?” my hopefully future boss asked me, and I realized I was too speechless to answer him appropriately.
“Y-Yes!” I stuttered out. “Of course I accept!”
“Very well, then come to the restaurant tomorrow at 9 a.m. for a trial run. If your performance is sufficient, we will sign a contract. If not, we will go our separate ways, but you will be compensated for your day,” Mr. Peterson explained.
“I will be there!” I exclaimed. “Thank you so much!” As the reality of what had happened caught up to me, I felt beyond grateful for the chance I was being given.
“See you tomorrow, Miss Morran,” my future boss said and hung up on me.
I put the phone to my heart, then dropped back on the bed. I lay there for what felt like an hour, just staring at the ceiling, as my brain caught up with what just happened to me.
Tomorrow I would have a trial day at my dream job. All that was left for me to do was convince Mr. Petterson that I was the right person to assist with his restaurant. Well, I was right to be one of probably three or four Assistant Chefs, given the size of the place, but I wasn’t complaining. More hands in the kitchen meant less work for a single person. At a prestigious restaurant like what my future boss envisioned, the likelihood of being understaffed was low. I thought back to the diner I’d worked at, where often I’d had to carry the kitchen entirely on my own. I would make sure to leave those days behind me.
Starting tomorrow I would be Hailey Morran, Assistant Chef at Sun and Moon.
