Page 122 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas

“And then you went to culinary school,” she finished.

“No. I didn’t say that. You assumed.”

“How did you become a chef, then?”

He massaged his temples. “I had jobs in kitchens and worked my way up.”

“Okay. What’s the problem with that? You don’t need formal qualifications to be a chef, do you? If you can cook well – that’s the main thing, isn’t it?”

“Sort of. But it usually takes a long time. And people usually train under famous chefs.” He looked at her sadly. “I fast-tracked myself.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I had all this debt hanging over me, and I was struggling to pay rent. To really progress in my career, I needed some kind of formal training, but I couldn’t afford it, and I had too much pride to ask my parents for help. Not that they’d have helped me.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I taught myself to cook. I found any free tutorials I could find online, and I read books.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Even though I could cook, no one would give me a break.” He sighed. “So I started applying for jobs I wasn’t qualified for. I was sure I could do anything if someone would just give me a chance. All I needed was someone daft enough to not bother checking my references. Or at least not the place where I claimed I’d been head chef.”

Anna grimaced. “Lewis didn’t check your references?”

“No.”

“And you never told him?”

He smiled sadly. “This is why I didn’t call you last week. Ispend most of my life feeling like a fraud, and I didn’t want to feel like that with you.”

“You could have just told me.”

“I planned on telling you. But telling you means I have to tell Lewis, and I got myself all tied in knots just thinking about coming clean. Lewis is my best friend, and I’ve spent years lying to him.”

“Have you?” She placed the book back on the table and moved to sit on Warren’s lap. “Lewis thinks you’re a brilliant chef, and that’s true.”

“It’s not the whole truth.”

“My brother isn’t stupid. He’s meticulous in the way he runs the hotel. If he didn’t check your references, it won’t have been out of negligence or laziness. Or because he’sdaft,” she added pointedly.

“I cooked for him in my interview,” Warren said. “He said the food spoke for itself. I worked on a trial basis for a month.”

“There you go then. You didn’t get the job based on lies. You got the job based on your ability to cook.”

“I think you’re being pretty generous in your assessment.”

She took his hand, entwining their fingers. “I really think you’re making more of this than it is.”

His thumb trailed a path over the back of her hand. “It’s why I get so angry when the staff make mistakes. If the food is good, everything feels fine, but every mistake feels as though it might be the thing to reveal what a fraud I am.”

“You’re not a fraud.” She put a hand on his cheek and forced him to look her in the eyes. “You’re amazing at your job.” A smile crept over her face. “So good that Lewis has spent the last couple of weeks panicking that you’re looking for another job.”

He eyed her sceptically. “Why does he think that?”

“He thinks he offended you when he talked to you about shouting at thekitchen staff.”

“I wasn’t offended – only worried that he’d finally figured out that I don’t know what I’m doing.”