7 parts Ongoing MatureThe smell of truffle oil hit me before I even stepped into the kitchen. I was twenty-eight, broke, and starting my first day as the lowest rung on the cook ladder at Le Cuisine de Moreau. Fancy, glittering, and terrifying all at the same time. My rent was overdue, and my stomach was buzzing louder than the industrial mixer.
Seven years of cooking gigs should have made me graceful by now. Instead, my grand entrance was dropping a crate of potatoes so hard they scattered like bowling pins across the marble. People stared as my cheeks turned red, to make it worse I heard some small laughs as well.
Suddenly, the kitchen went silent. She walked in, Ms. Moreau in her black suit, darker stare, whose name could shut down a city block, the CEO of Moreau Group. She paused, eyes sweeping over the chaos I'd created and laid her emerald eyes on me.
Welcome to my first day. Also possibly my last.
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Hi guys, this is my first ever story and my first attempt at writing, so any input is much appreciated.
I've been making up stories in my head since I was a kid, but never thought to put it into writing because I've never been good with words. This is me taking a new step in life and choosing to be brave enough to write.
I will be updating the story every Tuesday, Friday and Sunday, so stay tuned.
I hope you enjoy the story so far, and I'm sorry in advance if it bores you.
Thanks☺
- K.