Royally Delicious

chocolate chip ice cream with extra chocolate drizzle

I called the number and it rang a few times before what seemed like an elderly gentleman's voice picked up. There is a thick French accent in his voice, and my, oh my, the sound just made me blush. Hey, don't blame me, it's really cool. I wish I had one.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I saw the TV ad that you need a cook, am I right?"

"Good morning, Mademoiselle. Yes, you are right. We are in urgent hiring right now. What shall I call you?"

"Sofia. And you, mister...?"

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge that information. Full name, please?"

"Sofia Isabelle Santos."

I was hesitant at first, but decided to say it anyway. Besides, I'm the one in need here, not him. There is a pause from the other end of the line, and I heard tapping and typing – must be a computer.

"I'm afraid Google does not acknowledge you, and most of the top chefs appear in the list. Do you have any professional experience?"

"Well, I run a restaurant with my grandmother. Cocina Santos, have you heard of it?" I asked, frowning as this gentleman seems to find someone who really has experience. Like, a lot of experience.

"I apologize, but I do not. Where is this exactly?"

"In Manhattan, New York. It's a small restaurant. Our first time customers have a hard time finding it."

"That is pretty far from here, I see. I must've narrowed down the scope of my search..." I heard him mutter to himself.

"Excuse me, may I ask where this all takes place?" I heard him gasp from the other line, as he probably didn't expect me to hear all his muttering to himself. Well, old man, you whisper loud, unfortunately.

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge that information. Any other experience aside from the restaurant?"

I groaned in response. Seriously, this is getting really annoying. How secretive can this family get? It's not like they're part of the mafia or the yakuza, right? Or are they... The thought sent shivers down my spine. I hope not.

"Unfortunately not. I really like working in our restaurant, so I never thought about, um, expanding my opportunities... not until now, that is."

Is it okay to say this to an interviewer? That, I didn't bother on training some place else? Or does that make me an amateur? Oh god, this is too frustrating. Not to mention, all these secrets.

After a few more minutes, the elderly gentleman finally came back to life. I thought he was dead for a moment... Just kidding. Knock on wood.

"I see. It seems to me that you are not what we are looking for, as it is a chef, and not merely a cook for a very important family."

"May I ask who this important family is? Maybe, I can change your mind if I just bring something that our customers really like. Surely, I can convince you. A lot of my customers are regulars, and most if them bring in new people who become regulars of ours too."

"Mademoiselle, I don't think –"

"We are packed! I tell you! Some of my customers have to make reservations two days before just to have a seat. It's that good! Plus, we use fresh ingredients straight from the town market, and some from our suppliers, we change our menu daily, and you must try my Steak Au Poivre! It's my specialty! –"

"Je suis desolé, mademoiselle. I have to decline. I wish you luck with your restaurant."

"Wait –"