Sugar

Sugar: 3/10 Cup

"When are you coming to visit, ah? It's been too long."

"I know, papa, but business is booming lately. Did you see our website?" Kahlia shouldered open the back door and inhaled a deep breath of the nighttime city air, rocking back and forth on her feet to disperse some of the ache in them. "We're swimming in reservations."

"Hmm, you become famous and forget about your father."

The young woman snorted, shaking her head and tossing her braids over her shoulder. "Why don't you come visit here? I can book you a flight."

"Flights are too expensive," her father clicked his tongue over the line, provoking a smirk from her.

"Papa, I can afford it, I promise. I'll look up tickets when I get home later and coordinate with you. How are things there?"

"They are fine. Your aunt Vida is making my life miserable as always." A female voice yelled something in the background, and he yelled back in a flurry of Mbundu that Kahlia could never hope to understand.

"Tell auntie I said hello," she laughed, leaning back against the brick wall and letting her shoulders relax. The end of dinner service was approaching, so she knew the kitchen could manage without her until then.

She spoke with her father for a good ten minutes, catching up and making plans for future visits before she had to say her goodbyes with a tugging in her heart. As she wandered back inside, she reminded herself that they'd speak again soon.

The kitchen was energetic as she stepped into it, and pushing her homesickness to the back of her mind, the young chef found her flow amidst the chaos until the last dishes came back empty from the dining room.

"Good job today, everyone," she congratulated as she did every night, sharing celebratory smiles with her team. Slowly, once the kitchen was clean, each cook began filing out of the restaurant, saying their good nights until she was the only one left.

After sweeping the floor of the dining area one more time, Kahlia headed to the front doors by the reception to lock up, only to be stopped by a tall figure approaching the glass doors with a scowl on his face. She blinked in surprise, watching as he stepped inside and glared down at her.

"Mr. Bankfurth," she stuttered, unsure of what to do or say around him at such a time. "What are you doing here? It's closing time."

"Do you normally lock up the place all by yourself?" He looked around the empty lobby, then beyond to the open dining room doors. "That's dangerous, Chef."

"I-I was going to stay behind to test out a recipe. What are you doing here?" She asked again, taking a step back. "Did you come to eat?"

"No, I just came from a date." He shook his head slowly, blond hair falling over his eyes. It looked dishevelled compared to the last two times she had seen him with his hair in a perfect quiff. "Do you mind if I keep you company?"

Kahlia gaped at him like a fish, unsure of what to say. On one hand he seemed harmless, but on the other hand most psychopaths looked like that. She'd seen You. She knew the types.

But then again, something compelled her to accept.

"You're not going to murder me, are you?" She joked, reaching behind him to lock the door anyway.

"No." He shook his head with a small smile, following her into the pristine kitchen at her behest. "What are you making now?"

"I wanted to try something with this." Kahlia slapped a plastic packet on the counter after washing her hands, revealing vacuum sealed tempeh. "I've never tried cooking with it before."