SEQUEL TO - ESPRESSOLY FOR YOU; a one shot.
Daisy, twenty-two and a culinary graduate was set to crack her first interview and impress the head chef but when asked to meet the restaurant manager for a final word, things took a turn into the surprise...
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Determination had a strange effect on me. Since morning, I was more focused than every to get the dishes right. Absolutely right.
It may have been my way of deviating my mind from thinking and obsessing about one person and the things he divulged yesterday. Yes, with the confirmation that Philip had a girlfriend, I had nothing left but wishes for happiness for him. He deserved to have all the joys of the world and if that meant being with the spidery long legged woman, so be it.
Muscle memory was like a force of habit. Having always pictured him to be with me, it came as a shock since the time they walked in together at the gala. I know, there was no defense than to accept that I was obsessed with Philip and concluded he couldn't have a life outside the restaurant.
The fate that brought us back together had some sort of spiteful vengeance in its back-pocket. Either that or it was determined to get me rear moving away from Philip.
"Daisy," Marcy's panicky voice shot up as she leered at me.
I turned my vision towards the grill where the previously juicy meat now resembled a lump of coal.
"Sorry. I am on it," I shouted before sliding to pick up another piece.
"Careful," she cried out to the waitress whose hand wobbled while carrying twice the sets of plates than her hand could contain. Although her anger was redirected, I knew Marcy's words were meant for me.
"Rare steak on fire," I yelled before placing the meat on the grill.
So where was I? Ohyes, the part about moving on. I had always talked about it but never mustered up the courage to do so. The lingering ties with Philip, I felt was hard for me to severe.
"Daisy, the stake has turned medium," yet another voice roared through the otherwise noisy and chaotic kitchen.
The staff at each stove turned to eye me as Marcy turned towards me. The waitressing line grew with every passing minute. Marcy pointed towards Steve who slid into her place, checking the plates, dish and placement before his nod of approval allowed them to be presented to the world outside.
With a cold hard stare at me and back to the steak, now resting off the grill, Marcy turned. "Where is your attention today, Daisy?"
Her tone was levelled and calm, it was the worst sort of yelling. In case you missed the reference, Marcella was one of those few chefs who didn't have to don the Ramsay Gordan image and persona to show her annoyance and displeasure. Her lowered eyelid conversation with constant sighs and pursed lips were enough an expression to plunge any chefs to the depths of despair and self doubts.
My lack of concentration resulted in me standing at the cliff of her disapproval. It would take everything to regain her lost confidence but another misstep would only result in a slid-down the dark dungeons of mistrust.
