Hiring

"Thank you for your time. Could you send the next candidate in, please?" I said with a forced politeness, masking the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

I glanced around the restaurant, taking in the chaos of the ongoing remodeling efforts. The stress of the situation weighed heavily on my shoulders, and the parade of incompetent chefs parading through the door only added to my aggravation.

With a sigh, I braced myself for yet another round of interviews, hope that this next candidate would be the one to finally meet my expectations.

As he enters my office, I eye him skeptically, taking in his appearance and demeanor. He's dressed in a suit and tie, holding his resume confidently. He approaches my desk, extending his hand with a wide smile plastered on his face.

"Chef, so glad to finally meet you," he says, his voice oozing with faux enthusiasm.

I remain stoic, not budging an inch. His attempt at charm doesn't seem to faze me. He lay his resume on my desk and takes the chair across from me, continuing to gush about his excitement for the opportunity.

"I was so excited when this opportunity arose," he begins, "the chance to be head sous chef in your new restaurant with Chef Ricci is high on my list of priorities. I just loved your creations you put on the menu."

His words drip with insincerity, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. It's clear he's trying to kiss as much ass as possible, but I've seen through that facade before.

I snort derisively at his attempt to butter me up. "Look, Mr. Suck Up," I retort sharply, "if you were genuinely excited about this opportunity, you'd have come in here prepared."

His brows furrow in confusion. "I am prepared," he insists defensively. "I have an excellent resume."

I can't help but scoff at his response. "Do you think I give a damn about your resume?" I shoot back, my frustration mounting. "I'm not interested in your qualifications on paper. I'm looking for someone who can step into the kitchen and prove their worth. And what do you do? You show up wearing a damn suit."

I run a hand through my hair in exasperation. "You didn't even bother to wear your chef's jacket. What kind of chef comes to an interview unprepared to cook? I'll tell you what kind ... the kind that doesn't get the job."

My voice rises with each word, my irritation reaching its peak. "Now get the hell out," I command, pointing emphatically to the door. The audacity of this so-called chef is beyond belief, and I have no patience for it.

With a frustrated growl, I fling his resume across the room, watching with disdain as it floats to the floor a few feet away. What a fucking idiot. I'm relieved that he's the last interview for today. It may not have helped with my search, but I've had my fill of dealing with incompetent fools for one day.

The acquisition of the venue I had my eye on by Travis brought mixed feelings. On one hand, I was grateful for his support and investment in my vision, but on the other hand, it meant dealing with a slew of bureaucratic headaches. With the building undergoing renovations and my dream restaurant taking shape, I found solace in the planning sessions with Mario. Together, we meticulously crafted the menu from my mother's cook book, ensuring each dish embodied the culinary vision I had in mind.

However, the process of interviewing and auditioning potential kitchen staff proved to be a daunting task. Each candidate brought their own set of challenges and quirks, making it difficult to find the perfect fit for our team.

Mario had certainly delivered on his promise to bring in a diverse range of candidates for our kitchen staff. From fresh faces eager to prove themselves to seasoned chefs with years of experience, we had quite the lineup to choose from. As we conducted the auditions, I quickly realized the importance of not just skill, but also personality and compatibility within the team. Working closely with Mario, who would serve as the kitchen manager, we made careful decisions to ensure a cohesive and harmonious dynamic among our staff.

I was pleasantly surprised when I received an application for the front-of-house manager position from Michael "Lollipop" Tucker. I had known Lollipop enjoyed his previous job at the thrift shop, where he had always impressed me with his upbeat personality and exceptional customer service skills. However, I had heard through Travis about the turmoil he had experienced in his personal life, particularly the fallout from a terrible fight with his boyfriend on Thanksgiving that led to their split due to stolen funds. It seemed that Lollipop was seeking a fresh start, and I was glad that he saw our restaurant as an opportunity to move on from his past and start anew. With his charm and dedication, I had a feeling he would be a valuable addition to our team.

With my managers and kitchen staff in place, I finally had the luxury to delegate certain tasks and responsibilities, allowing me to focus on the big picture: the soul of the restaurant. Mario and I had worked tirelessly to generate a preliminary menu that reflected our vision for the culinary experience we wanted to offer. With Travis's support, we rented out a kitchen space from the College of Culinary Arts to put our creations to the test. Mario would supervise the kitchen staff during these trial runs and report back to me with the best consistent results.

Meanwhile, Lollipop surprised me by volunteering to take charge of interviewing and selecting the front-of-house staff. I was more than happy to hand him the stack of applications, knowing that his keen eye for character and personality would ensure we hired the best possible team for the front-of-house. With the core team in place and each member taking ownership of their respective roles, I felt confident that we were on the right track to creating something truly special.

Travis, on the other hand, was busy meeting with interior designers to bring his vision to life for the restaurant's ambiance. He aimed to strike a balance between the classic, medieval castle-like aesthetic and a more modern, elegant mansion vibe. His goal was to create an atmosphere that mirrored our culinary philosophy: a fusion of traditional dishes prepared with modern techniques.

I admired Travis's dedication to every aspect of the restaurant's concept, from the menu to the decor. His attention to detail and commitment to excellence would undoubtedly elevate the dining experience for our guests, ensuring that every aspect of their visit was memorable and delightful.

The restaurant was a sight to behold, complete with custom-made furniture and state-of-the-art kitchen equipment. In the first week, I focused on finalizing the menu and familiarizing myself with the kitchen staff. It was essential for me to establish a strong rapport with the team and ensure that they understood my expectations.

Next, I turned my attention to the front-of-house staff, knowing that they were the face of the restaurant and crucial to the overall dining experience. I conducted thorough training sessions to ensure that every member of the team was up to par, embodying the standards of excellence that I demanded.

With both the kitchen and wait staff trained and ready, I took a step back to allow Mario and Lollipop some well-deserved rest before the grand opening. It was crucial to give them time to recharge and prepare for the exciting journey ahead.

As I sank into my chair, a wave of apprehension washed over me. It had been three weeks since that kiss with Jasper on Thanksgiving, and amidst the chaos of preparing for the restaurant opening, I hadn't found a moment to see him. Dating was uncharted territory for me, and while part of me longed to explore it further, another part hesitated.

Jasper held a special place in my heart, and a few of my firsts had been with him. But amidst the whirlwind of responsibilities and new ventures, I couldn't help but wonder what we were to each other. The uncertainty weighed heavily on my mind, but with each passing day, the demands of my work seemed to drown out my thoughts on the matter.

On top of that, the news of my sister's secret release from prison hit me like a ton of bricks. It was bad enough that she had taken a plea deal without even informing the family, but the fact that she was now back under my parents' roof without anyone else knowing infuriated me to no end. It felt like a betrayal of trust, a betrayal of everything we stood for as a family.

The image of her kneeling outside of our parents' home, captured by a jogger's camera, only added insult to injury. It was a stark reminder of how easily she could manipulate her way back into my parents lives, like a cunning rat finding its way back into the nest. Despite everything she had put us through, my dad had allowed her back into the house.

The fact that she hadn't even bothered to post about herself on her social media profiles spoke volumes about her priorities—or lack thereof. It was as if she had washed her hands of the mess she had left behind, and fell back on her restaurant being successful.

Navigating through the whirlwind of responsibilities—from managing the intricacies of the restaurant to dealing with personal relationships like Jasper and Emily—left me with little time to focus on my own needs and desires. Each day seemed to blur into the next, consumed by endless tasks and obligations.

At times, I found myself longing for a moment of respite, a chance to pause and reflect on my own thoughts and feelings again.

I miss Jasper.