Last Flight to L.A.

chapter twelve: the party

"Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

~The Wizard of Oz

                                                                                 ~~~~~~~~

"Today's the day," Kelsey breathed, opening her car door and weaving through the mass of people entering the set.

Today was Friday, and Kelsey was going to begin preparing for Becca Lynn's party the following day.

She'd already made a list of all the tasks she was hoping to accomplish...but would have to do it after-hours.

She quickly got to work, and was a few hours in when she noticed a new voice entering the kitchen.

She looked up and saw a young man shaking hands with all of the chefs, followed by Chef Romano.

He had one of those smooth, realtor-type looks. His black beard was trimmed short, he had a bucketload of gel in his hair, and his smile was white enough to be on a Colgate commercial.

He made a round before coming to Kelsey.

She stood up and shook the hand he extended to her.

"Derek Vance. I'm the new assistant chef."

"Kelsey Harris."

Chef Vance clapped her on the back, making Kelsey lurch forward.

"I know you must feel insignificant here, but I just want you to know that you have one of the most important jobs in this kitchen," he said. He sounded like a congressman with a neon vest over his polished suit, addressing a group of construction workers during a rally.

Kelsey lifted an eyebrow. "Thanks."

If he was campaigning for her vote, he'd have to try a little harder.

Her eyes shifted to Chef Romano, whose frown was deeper than usual. Something told Kelsey that this Chef Vance wasn't equal to Ivan in her eyes.

When the kitchen closed for the day, Kelsey began peeling and dicing potatoes, preparing multiple pie crusts, marinating the steak, and shredding mozzarella for the cheese puffs.

She stored it all safely for the night and headed home.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kelsey's small car was filled with disposable dishes, utensils, and serving trays. Even though she'd just eaten, the smell of cheese and herbs and spices made her stomach rumble.

Her GPS said that she was five minutes away from Becca Lynn's residence.

She swallowed past the nerves that made her feel shaky inside.

So much was at stake, and the fact that Becca was close friends with Ethan didn't help set her at ease.

All she wanted—all she had ever wanted—was to cook for people. To have them enjoy the things she'd made.

Now she felt like a gladiator walking into the battle arena. Her opponents were Chef Romano, Hollywood, and—most formidable of all—herself.

She had so much to prove, so much to lose.