"I intend on winning this."
"Okay, I'm about to wither that little confidence you have going on there."
"Looks like you have yourself a challenge. Bet I'll win. I always do." He walked up to her until there was barely an inch between them, his hot b...
"Who taught you how to cook?" Jessie questioned with her strong southern accent as she rolled out the dough.
To say that Lavender hated her job was an absolute lie. "My momma."
Lavender began cooking at the age of five. She started helping her mother with gathering ingredients to washing the dishes to even mixing ingredients together.
The first thing five year old Lavender learned to prepare was noodles. Her parents were so proud of her that they couldn't stop bragging about it, instantly taking a picture together with her in the kitchen. She still had the picture. It was beaten up, but the point is she still had the picture.
Lavender smiled at the memory, touching her necklace her father gave her that she always kept around her neck.
"She taught you well," Stuart complimented, shifting his toque properly on his dirty blonde curls. His baby face made him look more like a twenty year old than a forty year old.
Lavender compared him to the ocean, amused how he reacted when he was bothered. To see someone so calm suddenly uncontrollable was exotic. The thing is everyone had both their good and bad side. Most of the time the calmest person was the worst when troubled.
Lavender smiled in silence, not bothering to answer for their reminder to each other was always, "Saliva is not an ingredient."
Lavender watched in awe as Stuart professionally diced up the onions. Lavender never got how Stuart's eyes were so immune to the onions. He never complained about his eyes burning. Lavender couldn't last one second cutting through an onion without blindly running off to the bathroom to soak her eyes in the water.
"Remember when-" Stuart began.
"Saliva isn't an ingredient," Lavender and Jessie told him in unison.
"Not fair," he murmured.
Lavender snickered at the grown man's pout. "Life isn't fair, boo."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Lavender's shift was over and she sat together with the rest of Strictly Awesome's gang who worked in the front.
"AJ you joining us today?" Grace asked, playing with the numerous bands around her wrist. Grace was the pudgy ginger who was as unpredictable as the weather. Her mood swings were too bizarre.
"No," AJ grunted, walking out of the restaurants with his hands filled with food. AJ was a sexy, lean African American. His skin was a honey color and his curly hair looked soft, but he never had a happy expression on his face.
He's somewhat like an open book. It was easy to tell that he had problems. Also, like a book, to understand him you had to read from beginning to end and from chapter to chapter to completely understand.
