One in the Same

Ch. 6: Arkyn

The last two days have been a blur. I declared that since the place was drowning from the last foure days off, the rest of my time off would be placed on hold. Not to mention there was a order that was coming in - adding an array of Marsala dishes to the menu. All day I had been in the kitchen perfecting this dish. Zach and I had been tossing ingredients together, perfecting the aroma that filled the kitchen.

    The newest one I was delight to have would be Wagyu Marsala. Mushrooms, Wagyu beef, a cream delicate Alfredo sauce, and drowned as sea of pasta. It wasn't the lightest of meals and was surely not the cheapest either. Regardless, I was proud to have it served at my restaurant this time around.

    Slowly new things were starting to be added every other week. From appetizers, entrees, drinks and desserts. Everything was slowly changing per season. Giving guests the opportunity to see and understand that Uno nella stessa cosa is more than just pasta and a semi night in italy on the East Coast.

    I scooped a fork full of the marsala giving it a twirl to coil around my utensil. Heaving the fork up and into my mouth, my tastebuds erupted with the aroma of chaos. In good way; well, more fucking good than I could have imagined. Groaning, my steps faltered backwards slightly. A grin formed onto Zach's flips as he took it upon himself to take a fork full . A droplet of sauce got onto his chin before he swiped it away with his thumb.

    "Goddamn, Chef." Zach grunted, swallowing his bite full. "I think I could have that for the rest of my fucking life if I could. That was remarkable."

    "I agree. Place this on some serving plates and take it to the break room for everyone else to have a helping. Im going to get a move on, the schedule for the next two weeks. If you need me I will be in the booth."

"Sir, yes sir." Zach teased.

"Its chef." I smirked. "But Sir works just fine, too."

I observed as Zach took the pot and divided up serving platters with another waitress. Clipping a nod, I dropped my fork in the sink marching my way over to the bar, gathering my laptop, and papers I making my way to my booth.

Typically it's done in the office, but the best part of the booth is its private. No one else can see you, unless you lean around the corner. Then, that's when the atmosphere comes into view. Other than the kitchen.

    It sits in the back of the restaurant, but I still have the capability of seeing everyone within the place. The eyes in the sky help with that as well. Taking off my chef's coat, I lay it on the seat next to me, rolling my neck to pop the tension in my muscles. Heaving a sigh, I got to work looking through the time off requests, accepting or declining some. I had a boat load of interviews to scope through and schedule. Since I had three people quit on me four days ago, the ad for help was posted the following day.

    It's not that I didn't feel for everyone that needed a place of income, because it was true. Although, some of these candidates who have been job hopping from one place to the next concerns me. Why be somewhere for a month just to hop the next? I get that finances are an issue, and in this economy It was not wrong. However, to make a living you had to start doing.

    Jasmine was off for the week, and she was my star waitress. She was here at the time of Syvlia's incident and had informed me of it going on that night. The events played in my head over and over, like a record stuck on repeat. More like the repeat button broken and dented in.

    I clicked open my messages app on my laptop, and noticed that she still had me delivered. My mouth turned to a frown. Although I had given her ny number thatr night I took her home - and kissed her - I has hoped I would hear from her at some point before the night was over. Here we are, three days later.