TASTES LIKE LOVE

The Mysterious Chef

"Come on Mark, this is the best opportunity for you to promote The Brass Spoon and you know it!" Jared Herman, Mark's oldest friend-turned-manager said as he watched Mark assemble a beautiful plate of perfectly cooked steak.
Mark scoffed, shaking his head as he handed the plate to the server." Careful," he prompted, before turning around fully to face Jared.

"I also told you several times that I don't like going to these things, plus I can't be bothered to waste my day off rubbing elbows with those rich snobs. Why don't you go in my place? I know this kind of thing is right up your alley," he suggested.

To be honest, he didn't want to go because a certain person might come back and miss him. Granted a week had already gone by without any word from her but surprisingly she didn't strike him as the type to break her promises. And you've known her for what? Five minutes? He hadn't known her for long, sure, but she was such an interesting person. She spoke her mind, and talking to her was a breath of fresh air. She also had the prettiest smile. He definitely wouldn't mind talking to her again.. If she ever comes back, that is.

"I think it's time you gave up this whole 'mysterious genius' concept you've had going on, and let the world know you. You can't hide that handsome face forever, you know.' Jared said.

"And who came up with that name?" Mark asked, already getting started on the next dish. "Your fans, of course! Didn't I tell you? The Brass spoon now has 3 million followers on Instagram. Everyone is dying to find out the genius behind the stove, you've even been dubbed, 'the mysterious chef' " he replied, pulling out his phone to show Mark the recent comments on the restaurant's post.

"My job is to cook, not flaunt my face. That's why I leave the public to you, my friend. Now respectfully, get the fuck out of my kitchen and let me do my job?" he said. "Fine, I'll go, but give it some thought. I heard the event is being held at the Mirage and the Ice Princess might make an appearance." The Mirage? That sounds familiar.

"And why exactly should I care about this so called Ice Princess ?" he asked, Probably some unrelatable influencer who spends her days skiing in expensive designer clothing. "You can't be serious, she's allover the tabloids lately, and I think I saw an article about her just this morning.. about Jimmy Choo's? I don't -" he said but Mark interrupted him with a loud, dramatic sigh.

"I'll think about it, Jared, if anything to stop your nagging. Go," he said, watching as Jared threw his hands up in mock surrender and leave the kitchen.

Two days went by and she still hadn't come. He was beginning to suspect she'd actually forgotten all about it. She was wearing designer shoes and even had a personal bodyguard, he mused. Surely she could eat at better places.

It was his day off, so he was on his way home from the gym planning on what to eat when his phone started ringing. He was driving so he turned on the display pad next to the steering wheel, and the name he dreaded the most flashed across the screen. Mother.

He contemplated ignoring the call for second but years of experience had taught him that that never worked. She'd just keep calling, and then make a big fuss about it when he did pick up. He glanced at the clock. 4:15 pm. What the hell does she want now ?

"Hello?" he said, already doubting his choices. "Is it too much to ask that my only son calls me once in a while?" she started. Here we go.

"I'm busy with the restaurant, mother. Did something happen? What's this about?" he said.
"Have you forgotten? We agreed to dinner every end of month. Shall I make a reservation?"