Chapter 7
Barb’s heart ached for Dirk. Jerry. She knew how he must feel.
“If you’re a fraud, then so am I,” she said, standing and walking around the desk to put a hand on his meaty shoulder.
“Two years ago, I was a line cook at Applebee’s. I thought I was good enough to go to culinary school, and then I thought I was good enough to get rich selling salad dressing, of all things. I hired you because I thought Maurice was stealing my ideas, but I might as well call myself Mrs. Wishbone.”
She hated the way his shoulders shook, but he made no noise.
What happened between this insecure guy and the sneaky but mostly harmless Maurice? Sure, he worked out at a dojo three days a week, but he’d always said that was it, a workout. He didn’t even compete in the tournaments.
“Why did Maurice att
