Yes Chef!

Prologue

As soon as I stepped into the restaurant, I felt the extreme urgency in the atmosphere. There were people running everywhere and shouting at each other. I felt at home. Speaking of home, I felt nostalgic, you know, the sad kind of nostalgia, but it only lasted for 2 seconds before I heard the woman behind the counter shouting my name.

"Nathacha, can you come here, please"

I walked quickly to join her, standing in front of her, looking everywhere except into her deep brown eyes. She was glaring at me.

"You are late"

"Yes... I'm sorry, I had a little something this.."

"I don't care, you should have been here earlier."

"Sorry"

She was literally scolding me for being 5 minutes late. I looked into her eyes for the first time. She had the kind of brown eyes you only see in horror movies, dark like the ocean at night. As soon as she realized I was staring, she raised her eyebrows, and I looked away.

"Anyway," she said, "here is your schedule, the chef is waiting for you in the big kitchen to your left. Green door."... "Good luck," she added with a stupid smile on her face.

Not even 5 minutes with her and I already hate her; it's going to be a long year.

Behind the green door, there were 5 chefs, all with their backs to me. I entered, and they all went silent. One of them turned to me, whom I assumed to be our boss, my uncle.

"You are late"

"Yes chef, I am... sorry I had..."

"I don't recall asking you a question."

I mentally screamed the most virulent insult, and I think it showed on my face because he asked me right after.

"Is there something you want to add, Natacha?"

"No chef"

"Good, put on your apron and go behind the station in the corner."

My station was the smallest in the kitchen. I looked around and secretly analyzed my colleagues.

2 women (including me) and 4 men. Appetizing.

I was tasked with turning the vegetables and potatoes while the others prepared complete meals. I guess it was my punishment.

"Natacha, this isn't a damn soup. I said roast," said the chef standing next to me, Cameron, I read on his apron.

"I followed the perfect time."

"And does this look like perfectly roasted potatoes to you?"

"You said 5 minutes, I did 5 minutes."

"What's going on here?" asked Chef "Augustus."

"I asked Natacha for 5-minute potatoes, and she made 8 minutes; now they're all mashed."

"Don't you know how to cook potatoes?"

"I do, chef."

"Then why does it look like a damn soup?"

"Chef Cameron asked for 5 minutes, and that's what I did."

"They were already boiled," said Cameron.

"You didn't mention that."

"Does he have to tell you the potatoes are already damn boiled?"

"But chef... I"

"Get out of my kitchen, Natacha."

"Chef, I..."

"Out."

I left the kitchen feeling like I had a huge potato in my throat. That jerk could have told me they were already boiled. I was pacing when one of the chefs came out and walked towards me.

"Cameron did it again."

"He did what?"

"He kicked me out of the kitchen too."

"Is he always like that?"

"Oh, you'll get used to it."

"If I last," I said, laughing.

"That's it."

Chris looked exactly like Cameron, almost as if they were brothers, even more than that.

"Is he your twin?"

"Ah yes, how did you guess?"

"You both have the same black eyes."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Don't worry, I'm not like him; I don't bite."

"I hope so."

He left, and I continued pacing until Augustus came out of the kitchen. I seized my chance.

"Chef, can I?"

"You're still here?"

"Yes, you told me to..."

"I know what I told you to do, thanks."

"So can I come back? I'm sorry for my mistake, but I promise Chef Cameron asked me for 5 minutes, and that's exactly what I did."

"Go home and think about it, Natacha. We start tomorrow at 8am, I better see you at 6am."

He walked away as if I didn't even exist. I turned the other way and faced the receptionist behind the counter, who was watching me. She called me.

"Here is your locker key. Changing room, to your right, blue door."

"Thank you... hmm."

"Paula."

"Yes! Paula."