Rachel sat outside the director's office with a smile, she had been told good news. A new program was implemented for her, which required her to take selective exams created by the professors due to her excellence. It took nearly a full year to convince them, but she did it.
She took eighteen selective exams from the professors and had nearly gotten full marks on all exams. A few of the exams she didn't get full scores, but, the schools admission alleviated them in favor of the thirteen she had gotten full marks on.
She had gotten her master's degree in business so quickly. Perhaps she should have taken her time, but she was curious, and wanted to see if she was capable of it.
Standing up with the degree, it was late, but they put her name in the graduating class with special exceptions and excellence. Rachel drove her car and walked into her restaurant. It had been doing excellent for the few months it has been open. It has certainly made enough money.
Rachel had set in the corner lounge of the restaurant like she usually does. Her head manager and most of the employees know that this is her place after she comes back from the campus.
It's a small lounge Area designed only for her, the guest lounge area is by the door and it is relatively comfortable.
Her restaurant has a Café and Restaurant design. There is also an upstairs where a computer lab is in one of the rooms. Rachel had bought the upstairs and converted it into a part of the restaurant and made two private party rooms upstairs.
Rachel quickly pulled out her laptop and paperwork and was working on a new menu plan for the next season. She pulled out her handmade recipe book as started researching other recipes.
Not long after, one of her mangers came and ran over to her. "Ma'am, there is Mr.Yanks is here, he's asking for the owner."
"Who?" Rachel asked without looking up.
"He's a famous food critic from the Netherlands"
"What does he want?"
"He says that out food is disgusting."
"….." Rachel continued to write down something in her notes.
"Is this your owner?" Said a mid-thirties gentleman in a suit. His face was red and he looked both in patients and angry. There is also the way he walks and his attitude one can tell he grew up spoiled and doesn't talk well and being denied.
Rachel stopped writing as she put her notes down and was surfing through her computer. "Yes, I am the owner."
"No your not, bring out the real owner." He said, with gritted teeth, he could not see her face, but could tell she is young. He had already formed an opinion. The poor manager was pale as he looked between his boss and Mr.Yanks.
"Making Assumptions, despite never meeting me. Is that it?" Rachel had finished typing something and slowly closed her laptop. She turned to face him; the food critic was blindsided at the little beauty. He quickly adjusted his face, but Rachel was already disgusted. "So, what do you need me for?"
"Hehe, You don't expect me to-"
Rachel put up the deed, as well as her ID. Before Putting it back down on her table. "I am the owner, now what do you want?"
Mr.Yanks eyes frowned with irritation. "Of course it is to discuss with-" at this point the restaurant was starting to become an audience. Some had started taking out their phones.
"I really don't have anything to discuss with someone, who comes into my restaurant, harasses my staff and claim my food as undesirable. Mr.Yanks, My restaurants doesn't just serve critics, but, Customers who are willing to come back for some comfort food. Or have a morning cup of fresh and delicious coffee while running late to work. Families who just want to have a simple dinner on a Tuesday. "
At that moment a couple of officer walks in.
"Hey, Ama….." The officers paused as they saw the tense. They had smiles butt they dropp. "Another One?���
"Officer Johnson, Amazing timing as always. I would like to make a report-" Rachel quickly explained, Mr.Yanks froze for a moment stunned completely by the quickness and fast rate of when he was arrested and put into the back of the police car. He couldn't refute when Rachel pulled out evidence