Don't Walk Away My Raspberry Beret

6. I Won't Let You Fail

"Cooking is about passion, so it may look slightly temperamental in a way that it's too assertive to the naked eye." - Gordon Ramsay

Latalia's Point of View: 

One particular evening, the ambiance in the kitchen was a symphony of sizzling pans and fragrant spices. With deft hands, I was applying the final touches to a masterpiece dish, my mind fully immersed in the creative process.

Just as I was about to send out the completed dish to a waiting table, the shrill ring of the phone cuts through the air. Surprised, I pause, wiping my hands on my apron before reaching for the device.

The caller ID displays an unexpected name – the mayor. With a furrowed brow, I hesitate for a moment before answering, curiosity piqued by the unusual call.

"Ms. Latalia," the mayor's voice booms through the phone, "I have a special request for you. The governor and his wife will be visiting our house next week, and I would be honored if you would come cook a special dinner at my house for them. You have become the talk of the city, my dear." His voice dripped in high status and posh, I smiled at how so much has happened for me in a short amount of time.

My recognition from the meals I have curated with Michael is getting a lot of buzz and now my first private catering opportunity. My heart skips a beat at the prestigious invitation, my excitement tinged with a hint of apprehension. I signal for Jose to finish the meal I paused and continue my conversation.

"Of course, Mayor. I would be happy to help. Thank you for thinking of me." I couldn't turn down an opportunity like this, not in a million years.

As I hung up the phone, Michael approached me with a concerned expression. "Latalia, you need to be careful," he warns, his voice low. "There are rumors about me and the mayor's wife circulating, and I don't want you getting caught up in any drama those two could cause. Or be the protagonist in some new rumors."

I offered him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Michael. I'll be fine. Besides, I can handle myself, and I won't let any shenanigans start. I will always have a server with me in case they try something, does that sound better?"

"Yeah, I guess..." Michael says still a bit concerned before he goes back to his kitchen duty.

The night of the dinner arrived, and as I was putting the final touches on my dishes and making sure I had everything I needed, the phone in the kitchen office rang. This was becoming a thing it seemed with me curating and the phone going off. Wondering who that could be as we were closed, I pray it wasn't the mayor canceling on me last minute....

The trouble of that call brewed, and it wasn't even the mayor....things could not be going awry already.

"Damn, now what am I going to do?" I muttered to myself, frustration bubbling as I surveyed the chaos in the kitchen. The night of the dinner had finally arrived, and my big moment to shine, and things seemed to be falling apart at the last minute.

My server I had lined up is suddenly out of commission due to food poisoning, I felt like I was scrambling to keep everything together. I should have prayed it wasn't them either.

Just as I was taking a deep breath, trying to re-pivot my thoughts for the dinner tonight, Michael entered the kitchen office. His presence brought a slight wave of relief, a familiar warmth that I couldn't ignore, but I knew there was no time to waste.

"Hey, Latalia, what's going on?" Michael asked, his brow furrowing in concern as he took in my frazzled state. He must have just finished the closing routine for the restaurant, I bet he is eager to get home and relax. His daughter had a sleepover tonight, and with the day we had working, I knew I couldn't wait for this dinner to be over either.