Alex has been looking for a sign from the universe. A sign to tell him that he needs to keep fighting. To live on for his brother who died in a tragic car accident.
When Alex stumbles across a man in town wearing a blindfold, holding a sign that say...
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The next day I head to the restaurant that Troy gave me the details for. River's friends were extremely kind, asking me lots of questions about my life, why I moved here. Although I was mostly vague with my answers.
None of them have to know that I moved here because of Liam. To them I just wanted a new start from London, somewhere quiet but with lots of character. It's not a complete lie. I've only been here for a week and I already love this town.
I guess it can get quite samey-samey if you've lived here for a long time. But I am yet to get to that stage. I can't imagine hating this place if Liam loved it. It fills me with hope, warmth.
Everyday I feel a little closer to him.
As I stop outside of the restaurant, I can see the 'HELP WANTED" sign in the window. They're still needing a chef, hopefully I could be up for the job. They just need to take a chance on me as I've been out of the industry for a couple of months. Although there is nothing wrong with having a break when you need it.
I press my hand to the door and step inside. It's fairly quiet but it's just before lunch. I see a young brown haired girl at the front till, her eyes light up when she spots me. "Hi," she greets. "Welcome to The Green House. Here is a menu."
"Oh," I bash my eyes at her extended arm. "Actually I'm here to see William. Is he here?"
The girl rips her arm backwards, brushing hair from her face with a soft blush. "Oh, my bad. Yes. He's in the back. I'll go get him."
"Thank you."
When she leaves I find myself smoothing out my shirt and inhaling a thousand breaths. Act cool, Alex. Act cool. No one wants to hire an awkward being with no social skills, even if I'll be kept in the back making food. Restaurants want vibes.
"Hello?"
My head whips to the deep voice, my eyes focusing on a man in his fifties. Tan skin but greying hair. "Hi, I'm Alex. I heard about your chef posting and I thought I'd bring in my CV."
The CV that I printed this morning from the local library for fifteen pence. Sometimes the traditional way is better than leaving an email or ringing them up. A little bit of effort goes a long way, my dad always told me that.
I hold out my hand as he moves closer, he takes it with a firm grip. The action almost pulls me to the floor but I stabilise my core and offer a smile. "From the window?"
"No actually, someone told me about it."
"Who is this someone?" He pulls his hand back and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Troy," I swallow. "I don't know his surname."
William pauses for a second and then his expression widens. "Ahhh, Troy Hernandez. Yes. Of course."
I dig my hand into my backpack and pull out my CV. "I thought I would drop this round if you guys are still looking. I recently moved to town and I'm looking for a job within this industry."
