Bon Appétit | a weird al love story | cocoo299

Chapter 1

I awoke earlier than usual. The early morning sun filtered through my yellow curtains, giving the false promise of a beautiful day to come. I hopped out of bed feeling oddly energized. It was Monday, which usually made me feel sluggish and tired, but today was different. And not in a good way.

I took the elevator down to the first floor, and strode elegantly to the dining hall, still in my pajamas. But when I stepped through the entryway, I could tell that something was wrong. A group of unfamiliar people stood clustered in the kitchen, all of them talking to each other softly to where I couldn't hear. They were all business folk, I could tell. Their suits were neat, and their shoes were shiny.

"Hello?" I called out into the kitchen. I was hungry, and I wanted to know where my breakfast was. It was earlier than usual, but Marjorie should've had my breakfast done anyways.

One of the men in suits broke away from the rest of the crowd and told me to sit down at the table. I did as I was told.

"Your private chef is dead. She suffered a heart attack as she was making your avocado toast this morning."

I couldn't believe it. I was never very close with Marjorie, but she was my private chef and I had always appreciated her. Just the night before, I had been talking with her about her kids and my job and everyday stuff that we would never share again.

"She was fifty-eight, her family has a history of heart problems." I muttered absentmindedly.

"Yes. I'm glad you realize that." He hesitated before putting a comforting hand on my bare shoulder. I looked at him. His gaze was empathetic and comforting. "My name is Pierre. I'll leave my number with the staff here. You can call me if you need any more information."

He patted my shoulder again, and went to talk with the others gathered in the kitchen.

I thought about Marjorie for the rest of the day. I didn't eat breakfast, and my best friend Penelope had to come to the house and convince me to eat lunch. She stayed with me for the rest of the day, comforting me.

"It's just so sudden. And now I have to hire a new chef. I'm hosting a banquet on Saturday. I don't know if I can handle this stress." I spoke to Penelope on the phone before I went to bed that night.

"I'll tell Henry to hire another chef for you right away." She was talking about her boyfriend, who manages all the staff that work in my house.

"Thank you, Penelope. You're the best. And tell Henry I said thank you in advance."

"Of course. I'll make sure your new chef is there first thing tomorrow morning.