Uncrowned Princess

13

As she buttoned up the crisp white shirt and smoothed down the black apron, Isabella's mind was already racing with plans. She was determined to prove Ethan wrong, to show him and everyone else that she was more than capable of handling this job - and anything else they threw at her.

With a final glance in the mirror, Isabella squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She may be wearing a server's uniform, but her eyes blazed with the fire of a woman ready for battle. As she reached for the door handle, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever challenges lay ahead.

Isabella entered the kitchen, her posture rigid with defiance. Ethan's eyes immediately locked onto her as he effortlessly balanced several plates. With a curt nod, he indicated for her to do the same.

Tentatively, Isabella picked up a single plate, cradling it with both hands as if it were made of delicate crystal. She began to walk slowly, her movements careful and measured.

Ethan watched her for a moment, his expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. With an exasperated sigh, he swiftly gathered multiple plates, balancing them expertly along his arm and hand. He breezed past Isabella, his movements fluid and practiced.

Without turning back, he called over his shoulder, "Be faster. The food will be cold."

Isabella took a deep breath, her jaw clenching slightly. She continued her snail's pace, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "Let's see what you'll do, boss," she muttered under her breath, a small, defiant smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

The contrast between them was stark - Ethan's efficiency and grace versus Isabella's deliberate slowness. As they made their way to the dining area, it was clear that this new dynamic was going to be a test of patience for both of them.

Ethan, already delivering his plates to the awaiting customers, glanced back at Isabella's sluggish progress. His eyes narrowed slightly, recognizing the challenge in her actions. He knew he was in for a battle of wills, but he was determined to mold Isabella into a competent server - whether she liked it or not.

Meanwhile, Isabella maintained her glacial pace, her single plate still firmly grasped in both hands. She was equally determined to push Ethan's buttons, to see just how far she could test his patience. As she finally approached the dining area tables, she couldn't help but feel a small thrill at the game she had initiated.

The tension between them crackled in the air, promising an interesting shift ahead. It was clear that neither was willing to back down easily, setting the stage for what would likely be a memorable and potentially volatile day of service.

A customer's voice rose above the ambient chatter. "This isn't what I ordered!" the man exclaimed, gesturing at the plate Isabella had just set down.

Isabella froze, realizing she had mixed up the orders. Before she could respond, Ethan appeared at her side, smoothly intervening.

"I sincerely apologize for the mix-up, sir," Ethan said, his voice calm and professional. "We'll rectify this immediately."

He gently but firmly guided Isabella to a quiet corner of the restaurant, his expression taut with frustration.

"Isabella, you need to focus," Ethan hissed, keeping his voice low. "These mistakes can't happen. I don't want trouble in my team."

Isabella's eyes flashed defiantly. "Your team? You put me here, remember? Seems like you're the one who wants trouble."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "I'm trying to give you a chance to prove yourself."

"Oh, please," Isabella scoffed. "You're just waiting for me to fail."