Abby

Vanessa walks up to me, her heels clicking softly on the tile floor. The room

slowly begins to pick up its volume again, but I feel lost in a giant void.

“Are you okay, Abby?” Vanessa asks, her voice pulling me back to the present.

“I-I’m fine,” I murmur, although the words feel like a complete and utter lie. “I’m

sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.” I glance at Karl, who’s standing a few

feet away, watching intently.

Vanessa smiles, a soft, empathetic curve of her lips that immediately puts me at

ease. “Don’t be sorry. The culinary world isn’t exactly a bed of roses for women,

you know? We’re already at a disadvantage just by being female chefs.”

Enter title…

myself saying,

“Skill and talent should be what matters,

eyes meeting mine with a look that speaks volumes.

right. But sometimes the world doesn’t operate the way it

as though contemplating whether to continue,

make a decision. “Let me tell you

table, crossing her arms as she gathers

when I was climbing my way up

him Mark—who couldn’t stand me. Not because I

mind you, but simply because

a black woman at

my heart sinking

discrimination.

even the beginning of it,” Vanessa says, her

grim tone.

from a food critic, Mark sabotaged

I’d prepped with ones

The critic got sick.

“Did he get away

At the time,

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