Ghosts And Roses

Chapter 1

Arg I hate this. My mind is in a hundred different places. I'm going through all the things for the new menu. I know it inside and out. Like the back of my hand but I'm a perfectionist. I have opened a ton of restaurants in the last few years. Boston, Miami, New York, L.A. last year Sydney. New Orleans is being renovated for grand opening as I sit here. My restaurants and the food I share with the world has a healthy focus. However they are made with amazing flavor. I strive to bring balance between healthy living and having the finer things in life. Showing you can have it all. There is no such thing as cheating it's called enjoying. Along with the clean ingredients, I also put an emphasis on exercise. You can indulge always. But you need to work through it after. My thought process has nothing to do with body image. I hate when I get that question. If I do it for weight loss. This is about health. Which comes in all ways, forms, and sizes. I only hope to help people be healthy. Happy being themselves. It has brought attention to me lately. I have been grateful for it. I get broken out of my thoughts by a voice. "Mama why are you so anxious? Seriously, you're a legend in LA. This is going to be awesome!" My daughter smiles in the seat next to me on. "Still have to be on my a game at all times. Chef's popularity can come and go very easily." Sighing as I twist my hands. How in god's name is my almost seventeen year old daughter calmer than me right now? She laughs. "Mama you must be kidding? You're like the most wanted and revered chef in the whole world. My famous uncles made sure everyone knows it." Her nose goes back into her magazine. This. This is what I warned them about. She's getting arrogant. "Put that down." Taking the magazine out of her hands. She gives me a look. Yup. Entitlement. About to end that, "Jennifer April DuPont. Let me tell you something. I worked hard to get this life for you. The way you treat it as of late? Is not ok. You have been blessed little girl. Don't take that for granted. Your grandmother worked hard for thirty years as a server. To make sure your uncle and I had every opportunity we could. That we had the life she wanted for us. See us grow and succeed. Your papa took that role on, too. He took me and your uncle on as his own. When you were born, he made sure you had everything you needed to be whatever you wanted to be. YOU have had things handed to you. However you need to remember his mother. Your Great grammy, fought to go to Brown University. She set a path for women everywhere. She studied hard. She has a 4.0. At freaking Brown. You know what that bought her back then? To be able to draw blood. YOU got handed these opportunities because generations of strong ass, hard working women made sure you did. You should be showing the world where you came from. Not who you know. But, if for two seconds you think that I won't pull every luxury you have away from you? If you think you're entitled to what I have worked hard for? Think again. You're smart, talented and hard working. Not some flitty debutante." My gaze hard on her.

"So sorry I'm not Grammy." Crossing her arms over her chest. "No one's saying that you have to be. Shit I could never. Look at Papa's birth daughters. One is a CEO of the biggest bank in America, the other's a super smart, published, genius doctor researching at Berkley. Here I am, I cook food. I only want to express that I feel you're selling yourself short, baby. You've also being too snooty lately. That isn't you. Tell me what is with this change in you?" Taking my daughter's hand. "It's been hard, Mama. I feel like I have to act different. Since the world found out." Sniffling out her words. "Since the world has found out your mom is best friends with uncle?" This hurts. We've been out of the limelight for so long. Like decades. The press are relentless though. They caught us in Boston together. After being at the aquarium. Going to the north end for lunch. One of those few moments we got to hang out incognito, or so we thought. Now the whole world has been putting us on blast. Thank goodness my friend of almost thirty years, put it out he was with his best friend and her daughter. That she is his niece. It has thrown Jenn's life into a tizzy, though. Being a teenage girl on top of it. She has had a lot to deal with. "Uncle picking us up?" Holding my hand. "Of course. You know he feels awful, right?" Stroking her thumb with mine. "I'm sure. He has kept me so protected for years now. Uncle Scott going to be around too?" Her eyes meet mine. "Well, duh. You're here. You know him and Uncle Zach are so excited to see you! They can't wait to take you shopping. They said you're their stylist now. After the world fawned over what they wore at the premiere, they won't trust anyone else." Laughing as I kiss her cheek, My daughter has always had the best eye for fashion. No idea where it came from. Definitely not from me. She's about to head into her junior year of high school. She has already been scouted for all the best fashion schools. Which is basically unheard of. When she graduates she'll be able to go anywhere. "You have to say that you're my mom." She laughs. "I don't have to say anything. You're so talented. Look at what you did for Uncie a couple years ago." Smiling at her. "He did kill the Met, huh?" Grinning at me. "You made his decade. I don't get your art form. He looked, well interesting. From my standpoint. Millions of people said it was genius though. You worked with all these amazing designers. You had them eating our of the palm of your hand. Begging for your input to help them with other clients. You stood your ground. Most people would fall at those designer's feet to even talk to them. You refused to help anyone that you felt had no integrity. That didn't deserve to be in a mecca of art for this astounding event. Appreciate the honor like Uncie. Fame means nothing to you. You would've helped design him even if no one knew him. Grammy was a rockstar of biology in her day. You my dear, are a rockstar of the designing world. She would be so proud of the woman you are becoming. Taking on the world in your own way." Kissing her hand. The pilot lets us know we're landing soon.