Untamed

1.) The Emergency



A smile pulled on my face as I made my way into my kitchen.

Since I moved out back to London with my mother after her father, my grandfather, suffered cardiac arrest, leaving him in grave condition.

I was seventeen, almost eighteen, at the time.

My father never put up much of a fight about us leaving Brooklyn, New York.

I hadn't seen him since, not that I cared to see him after the entire funeral fiasco that followed soon after my grandfather's passing.

It had been almost seven years since I last saw him. Though I did get an occasional call, letter, or package sent from him. It just wasn't the same.

My mother was the C.E.O of the company, bringing success to the company that was nearly bankrupt when she first arrived.

Now at twenty-four, I have managed to graduate from my culinary school, and have my own restaurant. Though it hasn't been easy to keep it afloat, I did it by myself.

I got interested in culinary arts by getting a job after school, wanting to be out of the big empty house and distract myself. I met Scott Lang and his father in law Hank Pym.

They gave me the chance to start as a table wipe, before moving to dishwasher, and then eventually starting line work.

They taught me well in a few aspects of the kitchen, and a few recipes that were to die for.

Once it was apparent that I fell in love with the art of cooking, my mother signed me up for baking classes, along with cooking classes on the weekends.

I kept working in Pym's kitchen until four years ago when I was accepted into a culinary school in Paris, France.

When I graduated a two years ago, I flew home to find out Pym was retiring, and was going to close the restaurant.

I immediately begged him to keep it open but his daughter, Hope, and Scott had to fly back to the U.S for an emergency, and he along with his wife weren't enough to keep the place afloat, so I asked him to sell it to me.

My mother helped me acquire it legally, and Pym agreed to sign ownership over after accepting a small donation to his retirement fund.

As I stared at the newly renovated kitchen, and dining room, I sighed in content.

A smile pulled at my lips as I ran my hand across the length of the combination of stainless steel and wood countertops.

All the top of the line kitchen appliances, donated by my mother and grandmother.

The old cracked flooring was redone as well.

The dining room, which held an old Italian aesthetic, was now holding the calm, relaxing aesthetic. Replacing the wall of pictures now held a bookshelf, along with wine.

The booths had been upgraded, replacing the red cracked and ripped leather surface to black, modern look.

The tables were made of dark wood. And the front logo had been replaced, as well as the sign out front.

The walls were a combination of three different colored bricks, with a black crown molding, with dark wood flooring.

The reopening was to be three days from the date and I was ecstatic. I could wait to cook in that kitchen along with my staff.

The kitchen staff, and waitering staff, along with a bartender had already been hired. All that was needed was the delivery of fresh veggies, and meat and we were all set.