27. We meet again.

"So literally you're going to own it after the project is approved?" Miriam asked for clarification.

"Pretty much, yeah." Lordy replied in an exciting tone.

"Wow! That's huge! I'm glad about it though..."

"What is it? Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming up?"

"Yeah. I actually want to know... how authentic is this thing? I mean, have you guys met before? I mean, this man?"

"Yes, we met about two weeks ago. And he gave me a draft of the project and explained it to me. He looks like a good person." Lordy pressed and Miriam sighed. "I know I'm not supposed to trust that easily, but you know, there's no harm in trying. My roommate says he's a nice person. So I'm just hoping everything ends well." He continued and Miriam sighed.

"I hope so too. Just be vigilant and extra careful. You know, one eye in, one eye out. Pay attention to every little detail so that you don't miss any loopholes that may be in this project."

"Awwn... looks like my sister is matured already."

"Excuse me?!" Miriam snapped and Lordy broke into laughter.

"Relax, my dear. Anyway, thanks a lot. And sorry for not being in touch regularly. I'll try my very best to do so from now on."

"You said that the last time." Miriam rolled her eyes.

"I mean it this time."

"Well, you always mean it."

"Jeez, Mimie!!"

"Okay, enough. It's time to sign in for work. Bye." Miriam said and ended the call.

...

Maxwell and Oliver pulled up at a 4-star restaurant. Oliver recommended this restaurant as he praised their delicious meals and quality customer care. Maxwell was not really picky but he didn't eat just anywhere. So he counted on Oliver and they came to that restaurant.

They made their way to the VIP section at the first floor and took their seats at the far end. They needed a sound atmosphere for all their messed up emotions, especially Maxwell. The restaurant itself had a serene ambience, and the VIP section had very few people, so the atmosphere was just right.

A waitress made her way to them after a few minutes to take their orders and left. Soon, the waitress came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses and filled each glass barely a quarter full.

"Please wait while your food is being made ready in a few moment. Thank you." She said politely with a broad smile, bowed lightly and left.

"That is a plus for this restaurant. The reception is quite better." Maxwell praised.

"Told yah." Oliver grinned.

They had petty talks until their meal finally came. They both decided to try something new, so they picked a random meal. The meal actually looked mouth-watering. And the smell was heavenly. And when they finally dug in, oh my goodness, the taste was out of the world! Maxwell soon forgot about his sour mood and was all over the food. He didn't say a word until his plate was empty. And he was surprised at himself. He had actually finished so soon. He looked up and saw Oliver literally licking his plate, and he laughed.

"Stop laughing. I can't help it." Oliver said and Maxwell chuckled again.

"Yeah. The food is amazing. Your choice was better this time."

"Hey! What do you mean by this time? My choices are always good." He said and Maxwell scoffed. Better choices my ass, he said inwardly.

"Honestly," Oliver said, "I think we should call the chef personally and commend him. I mean, come on, what a meal!!! This is straight up 10 out of 10!"

Maxwell didn't say anything and just shook his head, laughing. This guy was really exaggerant. He actually thought Oliver was joking about it, but he saw him call a waitress and told her to call the main chef for them. Maxwell still didn't say anything. He just looked on to see what would happen.

...

Miriam was busy stirring some sauce when a waitress came up to her.

"Ms. Hammond, someone wants to meet you." Actually, Oliver had wanted to meet the main chef, but that day, he wasn't around and Miriam was in charge for the evening. And so she was the one who was supposed to be called.

Miriam frowned a bit after hearing the waitress.

"Someone wants to meet me..." She echoed, not really asking. Who would want to see her? She didn't have any friends. And if it was Janet, the waitress would have mentioned her name. So it was definitely not her.

"Actually, they are customers, and they want to meet the main chef for tonight."

Miriam's frown deepened. They? Like ten people or something?

"Customers?" She couldn't help but ask, and the waitress nodded. It wasn't her fault. She never had visiters. And the main chef had always been around to attend such calls so this was all new to her. But she didn't want to think deep into this. After all, the chef went on such calls and most of them were praises on the meals served.

"Okay. Um...which table?"

"Table number 3, please."

"VIP?"

"Yes."

"Okay." She turned and gave the wooden spatula to one of the line cooks to continue, gave one or two orders and washed her hands. She quietly made her way to the VIP section. Just after some few steps, she turned back and checked on the order for that table. She wanted to be sure. Why were they calling her? She only hoped that it was no big deal. Thankfully, the kitchen was on the same floor as the VIP section, and so she was soon at the door. As soon as she opened the door she realised she was in her slightly stained apron. She cursed inwardly for not remembering to take it off before coming. She could recall the main chef always taking the apron off and leaving with his uniform on such calls. But anyway, there was no time now, as she had already opened the door.

She slowly made her way toward table number 3, where she could see two gentlemen seated facing each other, engrossed in a conversation. She got there and greeted with a low bow.

"Good evening, sir, sir."

They both looked up and saw a petite woman in a white uniform and an apron, and a hair net. Her hands were held together in front of her, her slender fingers interlaced on her belly. And she had the cutest smile ever. Oliver was in a daze for a split second before he regained his senses quickly and asked the obvious.

"Are you the main chef?"

"Actually, he asked for leave today and he's not around, but I filed in for him, so yeah, I am the main chef for tonight." Miriam said and turned back to the other guy.

This guy... or was she mistaken?

Maxwell fell in some sort of a trance when he saw the lady. This was the lady he met at the university! That was her!

"Hi, sir." Miriam greeted him, again, to gain his attention. He seemed to have spaced out a bit.

"Um...hey. We meet again."

"Yeah..." Miriam replied and bowed her head. She felt her face heat up. He was doing it again. The way he looked at her.

Oliver was a bit surprised. They've actually met? This was quite interesting. He was about to say something when Maxwell beat him to it.

"So...you work here?" Maxwell asked. Miriam pursed her lips. Wasn't it obvious?

"Yes, I do."

"And, you.. you made this meal?" He asked again and Miriam held the urge to roll her eyes. Why was he asking dumb questions? 'No, I didn't, dummy!' She cried inwardly.

"Yeah. I made it." She answered politely with a smile. Maxwell's heart skipped a beat. That smile... It triggered something in him. But he couldn't put his fingers to what exactly. Or maybe she had the cutest smile he had ever seen.

Oliver seriously wanted to laugh at his friend. What was wrong with the smart Maxwell? And he was stammering in front of a lady? That was a first. This guy just filed himself in for some teasing! He thought.

He realised Maxwell was still in a daze, looking at the lady unblinkingly. So he decided to save the moment and his brother from future embarrassment.

"Wow! The food is amazing!" Oliver said, drawing the two's attention to him. "Honestly, I loved every bite. You're really good. Keep it up."

Miriam smiled and replied, "Thanks a lot."

"So what do you call this meal? In fact, we just picked a random meal today. We wanted to try something new and we were not disappointed, honestly."

"Its seared lamb with marinated halloumi and herbs, sir." Miriam replied with a smile.

"That sounds incredibly awesome. You know what? I want to give you a special treat. Here a tip for you, for a good job done." Oliver turned sideways and dipped his hand in his pocket.

"Oh no, sir. No need for that. Just rating this restaurant is more than enough for us. And we feel overly motivated when you pass positive comments like these about our meals. So thanks a lot, but I can't accept any tip." Miriam politely declined his offer. As a matter of fact, her boss mentioned to her that, most customers leave tips to be given to the cooks, and that was a part of her monthly salary.

"Oh, come on. I insist." Oliver tried to press further.

"I'm sorry, sir. But can you please do me a favour by dropping it in the tips box at the reception? I'd be very grateful if you do."