Recipe for Love

Chapter 3

Anna

"Well, just call him. What's so hard about that?" Daisy hummed at me for the fourth day in a row.
"What's so hard about it? He was never interested in me. Why should he help me now? He's just a stranger to me, nothing more."
"Yeah, but he's still your dad."
"No, he's my biological father, that's the difference."
"Okay, but you said he's pretty famous, so he'll definitely have connections."
"He's famous in the world of motorsport, not the world of culinary art," I sneered.
"Even in the motorsport world they have to eat," Daisy shrugged.
"Fine, fine. I'll call him tomorrow," I finally resigned and Daisy cheered. If she knew the whole truth, she probably wouldn't have pushed me so much and she certainly wouldn't have been so happy.

A few days ago, I stopped counting how many companies I sent my CV to and how many of them rejected me. When they offered me a position, it was only to help in the kitchen, and I have too much of a talent for washing dishes somewhere. And I'm also quite aware of my own worth. Why the hell is it so hard? Do I really have such a terrible reputation that they are not willing to hire me anywhere? I used to be famous, I had great potential. There was even an article about me called "Anna Linwood - rising star of London gastronomy." And now? It only took a few disagreements with the chefs and owners, and suddenly no one was willing to take me in their team.

I spent the last 5 minutes staring at the phone number and considering what other options I had. The truth was that there was none, and it hurt. He didn't give a shit about me, I meant nothing to him. It was enough for him to be rejected three times by a twelve-year-old girl and he resigned himself to ever having a daughter. I only met him twice by chance. Once when I was eighteen, when I was working in a vegan bistro, where he came to buy food. I don't think he even recognized me until he read my name tag. He's definitely changed over the years. He spoke more conciliatoryly, forcing his phone number on me and hammering into my head to call him if I needed anything. But I didn't need him, I was doing well and completely forgot about Lewis. We met again six months ago at my last job. I was on a break, so I was chatting with Steve the bartender, when I heard a voice behind me: "Hi, Anna." I turned around in shock and faced my father. He was smiling slightly and looked just as uncertain as I did. "H-hi," I blurted out and Steve realized he'd better get out of here. "You never called so I assume you're fine" he started, and I nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine," I grumbled and looked away. "I think we should have a quiet talk sometime..." "I'm very busy. And honestly, I don't even know if there's anything to talk about," I interrupted him, and disappointment flashed in his eyes. "I would like to get to know you better. I'd like to try to fix it," he said, and I rolled my eyes. "You had 10 years to do that," I objected. "Anna, your break is over. They need you in the kitchen," James called from behind. "I have to go," I told Lewis, leaving him standing alone at the bar. Later James asked me why Lewis Hamilton was talking to me, and I couldn't care less so I told him the truth.

I finally tapped the contact with his name on it and felt my pulse quicken with each dial tone. "Hello?" He said as he answered the call. "It's Anna," I whispered and waited for his reaction. "Anna?" he asked again confused. "I didn't expect you to ever call me. Glad to hear you." He sounded so excited that I almost forgot how much I couldn't stand him. "I need help," I admitted resignedly.
"I'm in London. We can meet if you want," he suggested.
"Tomorrow?"
"Sure. At 1 PM at the restaurant?"
"No, I don't work there anymore. What about the vegan bistro where we..."
"I'll be there. See you tomorrow. I'll be looking forward to it, Anna," he said goodbye and hung up before I could think about it.

Damn, what have I gotten myself into?