"I got a big job. At the Hewitt household."
At first, the words didn't register. Let's just say my brain lost the ability to reason. Hewitt.
I wanted to ask *which Hewitt*, but there was only one family bold enough to carry that name in Countryville. THE Hewitt. As in Hayden Christensen Hewitt.
Mom's face still shone with pride, but when she caught the look on mine, she repeated it anyway. "I'm going to be the Hewitts' personal chef."
"Why Hewitt's household?" I muttered, almost choking on the last bite of bread. The words came out whiny and childish, it made me hate myself for a moment. But I hated this more.
More, because it was Hayden. He already didn't see me as anyone important. Now my mom being his cook was going to make it worse.
"How did you even get a job from them?"
Mom's face softened with that annoying patience only mothers could conjure. "They were searching for a new cook again. You know how particular they are."
