RafexKiara Tangled Up in All Your Pieces // Riara

Chapter 32

The head chef storms through the silver doors, massaging the back of his neck while gazing down.

He whistles to grab our attention while leaning against a counter.

"I'm going to refund everyone who had dinner here tonight. And I'm going to write to each of them and apologize......"

He looks around the room,

"and apologize, because the fuckin' calamity that happened here tonight...was my responsibility. It's entirely my fault."

We had just been on the job for 30 minutes when we got a serious complaint from a wealthy fucker.

According to the old bastard, halibut had to be served well done.

And I know what I heard, he warned me that the Halibut should not be fully cooked.

Pope stood as my witness, reading the directive twice.

Tomato, tamato.

Big fucking deal.

Anyone would kill to eat Halibut alone, knowing that Halibut swam in Arctic waters.

That's what occurred when you dined at Michelin-starred restaurants.

Anything on an exorbitant platter was deemed "living the life."

But not here, in the upper east side of the city.

The stillness surrounding us was degrading, eyes darting about, attempting to reassure each other that we were still there for each other, even in this shithole.

But welcome to reality.

Shit will never go your way, so fucking keep going.

The ringing in my ears remained, gently exhaling, monitoring my breathing patterns.

His fingers glide against the surface, halting at the shredding tool as he pushes off the counter.

"I gave you something to use, right?" he claims, squinting.

He displays the shredder to JJ.

"Yes, chef," JJ nods, causing me to turn to him.

"Because each pommes slice must be two millimeters thick. Were you thinking it was a joke?" Slowly approaching JJ, he raises his tone and drags his feet with him.

"No, chef."

"Did you measure your tomato slices?"

"No, there was no time."

"You just must be aware. But you have no idea. I assumed you did. I apologize."

The sound of the shredder being tossed in the sink made us cringe.

"It's my fault." A jest directed at JJ.

He turns to face the assistant chef.

He assessed his gaze while keeping a distance of statement.

"Michel tu as permis
une portion de pétoncles
rester dans la casserole
pour une minute supplémentaire
parce que la garniture n'était pas prête
et puis vous l'avez servi.
Pourquoi fais-tu ça?
Nous reculions, chef.
Si je l'avais jeté,
tout le tableau...
Ensuite, vous le jetez."

("Michel, you left some scallops in the pan for an extra minute since the garnish wasn't finished, and then you served it.
What made you do that?

"Chef, we were assisting you.
If I had thrown the whole table away... Then you toss it away.")

French people like debating, and it can be frightening at times; friends turn on one other, they argue loudly, accusations are hurled... But it's all in good humor.