Maybe. What Juliette interprets as a trivial question about dress code is actually a deeper question about fitting in. Daniel would have understood that, I realize.

I thought getting the first Michelin star would banish my feeling of inadequacy, but maybe the damage is too deep. For the first sixteen years of my life, everyone told me I was stupid and that I’d amount to nothing. My parents. My teachers. The career counselors. Nobody in my sleepy Mississippi town thought I’d do anything with my life.

The scars still haven’t totally healed, not even after the second Michelin star. Maybe they never will.

Juliette lifts her head up. “Get off the phone,” she hisses. “The investors are here.”

There are four of them, all looking like they are cut from the same rich-guy mold. Custom-tailored suits, handmade shoes. Expensive watches on their wrists. One of them, an older man who looks about fifty, eyes the tattoos that peek out from under my sleeves with a look of combined revulsion and fascination. I’m definitely from the wrong side of the tracks.

Once introductions have been performed, Juliette’s crisp voice slices through the small talk. “Gentlemen,” she says. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

The youngest guy gets up. “Chef Ardalan,” he starts, leaning forward and looking intently into my eyes. He’s trying to look sincere, but it just comes across as contrived. “Imagine this.” He presses a button and the presentation starts on the screen in front of us. “A Sebastian Ardalan restaurant in every city in America.”

I listen to the guy talk, disquiet growing within me. He’s giving off a sleazy, timeshare salesman vibe, and while the presentation is flashy, it is devoid of substance and is a complete waste of my time. If I wanted to look at slick graphics and animations, I would have gone to see a big-budget Hollywood movie. What I want are detail and numbers, and there’s none here.

When they are finished, I lean forward, searching for the right words of diplomacy. It’s a lot easier in the kitchen. There, I say what I think, and the rules are much simpler. “Gentlemen,” I start. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken to meet with me. This was a great presentation but before we can move forward, I do need to dive deeper into the details. How many restaurants? How much control will I have over the menu? Where will we source ingredients? I’m sure you can appreciate that I’ve built my reputation on having the highest standards about food quality and service. I won’t risk sullying that.”

I’m not naive. I know that a restaurant chain will have different food standards than Seb New York. I also know that not all mid-market restaurants are created equal. In some of them, you can tell that the owners take pride in the food they serve. Others? Not so much.

“Of course, of course.” This is the guy who was horrified by the tattoos. “Why don’t we set up a meeting in a couple of weeks with all the particulars?” He gives Juliette a meaningful look, but she ignores it. He plows ahead anyway. “Now, as we’ve discussed with Juliette here, we’d like some guarantees before we do a lot of upfront work. If we could sign a letter of intent?”

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Earlier this morning, Daniel had warned me about this. “Sign nothing until a lawyer reads it,” he’d cautioned me. Even though he thinks this deal is a terrible idea, he’s still there to help.

I shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I say, keeping a tight lid on my temper. “I cannot sign anything at this stage. If that’s unacceptable to you, then we can part ways now. No hard feelings.”

“No, no, of course not,” the man splutters. “It was just a formality, like I told Juliette. We won’t worry about it.”

Then why’d you ask? I think, but I know the answer. They think I’m stupid. Even now, even after all these years.

* * *

“That was a disaster,” I say flatly to Juliette when we are outside. “Ben’s not at work and Helen’s juggling two restaurants on her own. Juliette, I don’t have time for flashy presentations.” I exhale. “Let’s face it, they weren’t ready.”

“Be a little patient,” she snaps. “This is an incredible opportunity for you. These guys are chomping at the bit at a chance to partner with you.”