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// JASMINE //

Normally work is a terrible place to go, and I would only agree if I had a job that I hated, but I don't. I'm the main chef at the newest restaurant in town. My staff was cutting up carrots and prepping simple little vegetables such as carrots and I was seasoning a specially ordered fish filet. My staff looked up to me, but my mother is soon on planning to get a second chef. Recently I have been watching my staff and figuring out who has the best skill, because in the end it'll be my decision. My parents have no idea what a good chef is. My love for cooking was never inspired by them; they aren't the ones that went to culinary school in the family.

"Ray, Order number 7 is done!" I yelled from the back of the kitchen. I made sure to place it directly on the counter. Earlier during the day someone dropped the whole plate and made a huge mess. You can say that they didn't have a job here anymore.

I smiled weakly once my best waitress, Ray, came up and got the order.

"Bad day, huh?" She smiled at me and I nodded.

"You have no idea. I now have to transport the food to the counter and I'm the main chef. I shouldn't have to do that. I need to be back there cooking instead of doing this s.hit."

Cussing was often a habit of mine. When I say my staff looked up to me, they either haven't dealt with being sworn at by me or just loved my cooking skills.

"Take a break, Jas. You need to be deciding on who you need to choose as your second chef soon. Put someone else in charge for a week or so and pick who did the best. Rotate them out. Harry is quite the chef and so is Chelsea. Put them to work and stop being such a pain to yourself and your workers before they can't stand you anymore. It's what Chef Cruiser did with you."

I gave her the bird before she walked off and took the order to a table. She knew she was right and frankly, I hated when she was right. I hated when everyone was right and I was always in the wrong. I huffed in exasperation before turning around and yelling sternly, "Harry, you're the leader around here! Please, don't screw this up. Tomorrow Chelsea will be the boss around here. Capisci?"

All my workers nodded while I untied my apron and hung it up. I turned around and watched the lanky man with long hair that needed to be wore in a hair net due to his hair being freakishly long and smirked in satisfaction before turning around and tugging my own hair net off and put it in my pocket before walking to the bar.

"Long day?" I groaned as I sat down and looked up at the bartender.

"Niall, shut up. I may start growing horns if another person points out my crappy day. Get me a Se.x on the Beach and I'll be fine. Go."

It was obvious I was in a pis.sy mood. Why did everyone have to point it out?

■ ■ ■

By the end of the night, I smelt like I took a bath in pure vodka. Niall helped me into my flat. My drunk giggles weren't exactly the most attractive thing in the world. This was a routine of ours for the past few months or so.

All I rememeber from that night was Niall placing a box next to my door and placing a letter on the top of it before dozing off with the smell of strong alcohol seeping through my nostrils.

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