belly the size of a beach ball.
“You’ve been with us for a short while,” he says. “And though you don’t have much experience in the kitchen, you’ve proven yourself as a hard worker with a lot of promise. I think you’ll do excellent as our new sous chef.”
I stare at him. “Me? But what about…?”
He waves his hand. “You showcased how well you can handle a busy kitchen. The other applicant, well, let’s just say he burns under pressure.”
That can’t be true. I’ve known Joshua since high school. He graduated two years ago. While we waited for our interviews, he told me that he’s always wanted to be a chef, but his parents pressured him to go to law school. He dropped out and moved to New Jersey, where he works in a fast foot joint. I remember when he cooked food for a charity event our school hosted. The food was amazing. He was careful, meticulous, was absolutely calm under pressure. No, whoever Chef Charleston is talking about has to be a different person.
In my peripheral vision, I catch Sebastian sitting on the windowsill. He still has that proud smile on his face. Wait a minute. Did he have something to do with my getting this job?
Chef Charleston holds out his hand. “Congratulations. You start tomorrow.”
I thank him, then leave the office, my head spinning. There’s no way I got that job on my own merit. I completely screwed up my interview. Something’s up, and I suspect my genie is responsible.
Macy comes out of nowhere and throws her arms around me. “I heard you got the job. I told you that you would.” She smiles, then frowns. “Did you hear what happened to Joshua? He spilled soup on Chef Charleston and was thrown out on the spot.”
That doesn’t seem like him. This doesn’t feel right. “Thanks so much, Mace. I’ll see you later.”
“You’d better. We’re changing tonight to more than just a hangout. We’re celebrating your new job!”
I smile and nod. I need to talk with Sebastian. As I pass my coworkers and the diners, they all congratulate me. I give them fake smiles. None of this is right.
Sebastian is leaning against the low wall outside the restaurant. When he sees me, he smiles his sweet smile. I can still see the mischief in his eyes, and I know without a doubt that he had something to do with my getting the job.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“What?”
“Joshua is one of the calmest people I know. It’s not like him to spill soup on Chef Charleston. You did something, didn’t you?”
He nods. “I pushed him. The soup didn’t burn your boss. I made sure not to hurt him.”
I rub my temples. “I can’t believe this.”
“I don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t.”
He slinks back, his eyes filled with shock, confusion, a little pain. “Lily—”
“I never wished for it, did I?”
“No—”
“How could you do something so awful?”
His forehead wrinkles. “Awful? I got you the job.”
I count to ten to stop myself from exploding. “Sebastian, Joshua deserves this job, not me. I screwed up my interview. He’s a better chef than me. Why would you do this? I don’t want a job I didn’t win fairly.”
He doesn’t say anything. His gaze is on the ground. After a few seconds, he looks at me and says, “I knew you wouldn’t wish for it. That’s why I did it for you.”
“I don’t need you watching over me. You’re just…”
“A genie?”
My heart clenches. “I didn’t mean that.” I have no idea how I could have said such a hurtful thing to him. No, he’s not just a genie. He means so much more to me.
He tears his gaze away.
“I need to fix this.” I rush into the restaurant and head straight for my boss’s office. “Chef Charleston, I appreciate you offering me the job, but the truth is that Joshua would make a better sous chef. He’s quick, careful, he does well under pressure. Please give him another chance.”
He looks at me, shocked. “You don’t want the job?”
Words can’t describe how