The next Friday, even while working, I can’t help but think about my conversation with Elena again. A baby... She started crying after telling me about Nathaniel being the father. I was unable to say anything and just felt useless, listening to her. I just found out she is my cousin, and now she is also pregnant.
Eventually, that friend of hers, Daniel, took the phone and said they would call back. I haven’t heard from them since then, but I know she probably just needs some time.
I still felt bad for Elena, though. If she is not Nathaniel’s girlfriend or anything, how will she handle this pregnancy? It explains why she was so distant from him yesterday, also why Daniel and Bobo were so adamant about protecting her during the battle. A pregnant werewolf can’t shape-shift, not without risking the baby’s life— the shapeshifting is too much of a struggle on the body after the first few weeks. I wonder how far how along she is?
I’m too busy to think about it any deeper, though. Earlier this week, a garbage boy took a last-minute sick-leave, and I had to replace him for the day. Turns out, Chef Michel was so happy with my performance in his kitchen that day, he fought with Narcissa to keep me there. So now, I must switch all the time between the kitchen and the restaurant, even during the actual service. Not that I would complain, though. I like working in the kitchen so much!
Chef Michel and I are now on a first-name basis. It has become a habit now that I would come and help the kitchen staff in the morning. I am nowhere near the level of the cooks or aides here, but they are always teaching me things and even asking for my opinion at times. It’s thrilling to keep up with the rhythm in the kitchen, but I’m doing my best. Once again, everyone was surprised how well I handle the pressure. Truthfully, I’m a bit proud of it. Like any chef, Michel yells a lot, but this is really nothing compared to what I’ve felt before.
Once the service is done and we start cleaning up, Chef Michel suddenly calls me, sending someone else to take over for me. He is smoking at the back of the restaurant, like always. I don’t really like the smell; I just stand a few steps away not to be impolite.
“You called for me, chef?”
“Yes. You did a perfect job today, Nora. Again. And what was that suggestion you made this morning? For the dessert?”
“Using rosemary to flavor the caramel?”
“Yeah, that one. How did you think of that?”
I blush a bit, overwhelmed by the compliments. How do I explain this? I feel a bit embarrassed about my background. Even though I seem to know a lot, I only have elementary experience in cooking. You can’t learn it all from books...
“I just really like using herbs and spices while cooking, so... I tried balancing with sweet flavors for a change and found out some pairings work really well.”
“Like what?”
I feel like this is some sort of test. I try to think of an answer I would give anyone, not to an experienced chef. “Like basil and strawberries. Or honey and lavender.”
I see him smile. “You’re good, Nora. You really got a talent for that. Why didn’t you apply to be in the kitchen instead of a waitress?”
“I... I have no experience and no training to be in a kitchen.”
He shakes his head. “You got the basics, that’s all it takes. Good sense of taste, multitasking, and reactive. You’re hard-working, and you can handle the pressure. Starting tomorrow, you’ll work as an apprentice in the kitchen.”
“What? But Narcissa...”
“I don’t care what Narcissa says. I’ll call the Boss, if necessary. You can start with Sam at the sauces for now. The old man could use an assistant.”
I gasp. I don’t even know what to say! Being a saucier’s apprentice is already more than anything I could have asked for!
“Chef, I...”
“Don’t thank me yet. We’ll see how you can handle the old man first; he’s twice more stubborn than I am, so that should—”
He suddenly stops talking and turns his head towards the end of the alley. I do the same. My wolf is growling, sensing something’s wrong, too. Who is that? There’s a horrible smell coming from a block away. Chef Michel throws his cigarette on the ground, his eyes not leaving the end of the alley a single second. We both stare at the same spot, waiting to see if the intruder will come closer or not.
No one is supposed to be there. There is a wooden fence at the end of the street, and only the restaurant’s employees should be able to come here. That smell doesn’t belong to anyone from the restaurant. It’s such a disgusting smell! A mix of alcohol, rotten flesh, and cheap cologne, reeking so much I can’t even distinguish its owner’s scent.
“Who is that...?” I whisper.
“Someone who’s not supposed to be here,” growls Chef Michel.
I feel him tensing up, ready to shapeshift at any moment. I tell my wolf to be prepared, too. However, the smell disappears. Did they run away? We wait for a few seconds, but whoever it was is gone. I turn to Chef Michel, still frowning. “A rogue?”
“...It looks like it. I must tell the Boss. Let’s go back in. Tell Boyan to come and get you. I don’t like this.”
To my surprise, it’s not only Bobo who shows up, but as well. Unlike other days, there is no car, but just a big, black motorbike. I look at the engine, a bit worried. “Please tell me I’m not supposed to get on that thing.”
“What’s wrong with my bike?”
