Chapter 7
O ne class with him. Surely I could get through one class with Kobe smirking so arrogantly at me. But as I moved on to my next class, my shoulders fell when I saw him there. Only this time, he appeared to be just another fellow student and not a teacher’s assistant.
Seeing him in there was a little unexpected. While many of the same students from the Restaurant Business class would normally take a management class, this was Advanced Restaurant Management.
Oh... right. That was it. I was in an advanced class with students in their second year. That explained Kobe’s presence. Oh, how it must irk him to see me there as his peer.
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
Don’t let him get to you, I told myself as I entered the class. Ignoring his presence, I turned to take a seat as far away from him as I could.
He spotted me and immediately stopped talking to the cute redhead he was with and walked directly to me.
Shit! What did he want now?
“What are you doing in this class?” he said, more an accusation than a desire to know how my talent had given me an advantage. “This is an advanced class.”
“I know,” I said as if I didn’t have a care in the world. But inside, I was shaking with rage and frustration.
“I’m one year ahead of you. It’s bad enough that I’m the assistant to one of your professors... but this... This is unacceptable.”
“Then change class,” I said with a disinterested shrug.
“No,” he hissed as he came closer. “You change class.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“You’re a freshman,” he went on. “You have no business being here. A freshman!”
I turned in my seat to look up at him. “For your information, Mr. King, I have every right to be here. In case you may have forgotten, my parents have had me working in their restaurants since... well since forever. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t work in one restaurant or another. Right after camp, I started traveling with my Dad, visiting and helping out at our restaurants. I had more restaurant experience by the time I was twelve than most students in this class... including you.”
“After camp?” he muttered suddenly. He stared blankly at me for a moment. I could have sworn he was looking for a snappy comeback, but none came. Did he even remember being at camp with me at all?
“I believe that everyone is here,” the professor said from the front of the class. “If you will please take your seats and we will begin our first class.”
The students were quiet and respectful, reverent even as they took their seats and faced the professor.
Dressed in a dark suit with a navy tie, his hair primly combed back and his shoes as shiny as could be, he commanded authority without the menacing tone Ms. Manley seemed to rely so heavily on.
“Hello, class. I am Mr. Singh,” he said as he spelled his name out on the board beside him. “I am not at this culinary institute to educate you on any of the culinary arts. I, with my business acumen, am here to show you how to run a restaurant. It’s all good and well that you learn the techniques of haute cuisine. It’s admirable that you wish to one day share your innovative recipes with the masses. However, if you are unable to get a restaurant up and running, and should you manage that, if you are then unable to sustain that restaurant, not many people are going to have the opportunity to enjoy your innovative dishes.”
Clasping his hands together in front of him, he looked over the class. “I do believe I see a familiar face among us.”
Everyone looked around wondering who he was referring to.
But I saw. I saw that he was looking directly at me. Was I in for another drag through the mud?
“Many of you, if not all, have heard of the Lee family and their successful chains of high-end cuisine.”
The students nodded.
“Well,” Mr. Singh said as he gestured to me. “We have among us the daughter of Mr. Lee... Miss Katrina Lee.”
Everyone turned to look at me. Recognizing me from the cafeteria catastrophe, they nonetheless smiled respectfully, no doubt for Mr. Singh’s benefit.
“I am sure that we could all learn something from the Lee family,” Mr. Singh said. “They have found the perfect marriage of good food, good atmosphere and good business sense. I’m sure that Ms. Lee will be a valuable addition to this class.”
“Valuable?” Kobe muttered with a sneer.
Kobe was clearly pissed off by Mr. Singh’s praise, and it pleased me to no end.
During the rest of the lesson, as Mr. Singh explained the importance of hiring the right employees, finding excellent suppliers and understanding the finances of a restaurant, Kobe repeatedly glared at me. He tried to get me to meet his gaze, but I stubbornly ignored him.
“With all that said,” Mr. Singh said. “I am a staunch believer in hands-on experience. I could speak until I’m blue in the face, but until you are out there dealing with the details of running a restaurant yourself, you won’t know what it’s really like.”
“Hands-on?” a student called out. “Do you mean we’re going on a field trip?”
He smiled. “In a manner of speaking. You see, this entire semester will have you managing a brand-new restaurant, and I think you will find the experience very enriching.”
“Where?”
“Yeah, where?”
“Well, I’ve made arrangements with a friend who just so happened to open a new French restaurant in the Napa Valley.”
“French restaurant,” a student gleefully repeated.
“In the Napa Valley,” another added with a happy chuckle. “Jackpot.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Singh said. “But not all of you will be working at that French restaurant in the Napa Valley. I’ve also arranged for some of you to work at an Asian fusion restaurant that recently opened there as well.”
“I want the French restaurant,” a student called out.
“The Asian fusion one in Napa Valley is perfect.”
“That’s what I thought,” Mr. Singh said.
I raised my hand. “I would prefer the Asian fusion restaurant, Mr. Singh.”
He smiled. “Just as I hoped.” He looked at Kobe. “And I think that you’d be a perfect partner to Katrina.”
Kobe gasped and almost jumped out of his seat. “Me? But I...”
“Katrina could teach you a lot, Kobe.”
“But French cuisine is more my...”
“Asian fusion is fascinating. I have no doubt you’ll love it.”
“May I ask, Mr. Singh,” I cut in. “What restaurant would we be working at.”
“Ginger,” he said with a pleased smile.
“Ginger?” I echoed. The name sounded familiar, but... “You mean...”
“Yes. The Lee family’s most recent, freshly opened Asian fusion restaurant.”
“Wait a minute,” Kobe protested. “That’s not fair.”
“On the contrary,” Mr. Singh said. “As a smaller, yet very trendy spot, I can only send two students from this class. And you are the two that I’ve chosen. No argument.”
“But Mr. Singh. She’s sure to get special treatment. They’ll say that everything she does is great. They’ll give her an ‘A’ just for being a Lee. And what are they going to say about me?”
“You have nothing to worry about. The Lee family is more than fair... with everyone.”
With a frustrated huff, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
Oh, my, I thought suddenly as the realization hit me. Kobe and I were to work at one of my family’s most recent endeavors. Oh, my. Oh, my, my, my.
“And,” Mr. Singh went on, addressing the entire class, “I think you should all know that the majority of your grade in this class will be based on this project. This is not a game. This is not pretend. These restaurants are real, and they are counting on you... all of you.”
Some students giggled with anticipation while others groaned about the hardships to come.
“That is all, class.”
The moment the class began to disperse, I stood up, only to find Kobe at my side, grasping my elbow.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“I want to make one thing abundantly clear,” he growled. “I fully expect you to put your heart into this. I will not accept you slacking off. I will not accept you taking it easy just because this is your family’s restaurant. No coddling. No easy way out. Nothing but hard work.”
I glared at him. “Seriously, Kobe? Do you really think that I would slack off at my family’s restaurant? If anything, I will be working harder than anyone else here.” I poked my finger into his muscular chest. “And I will certainly be working harder than you, Daddy’s boy.”
He sniffed the air with disdain as I turned to leave the class.
“As a matter of fact,” I said, turning back to him. “It is you, King junior, who should take a careful look at your work ethics. In my family’s restaurants nothing but hard work is acceptable.”
Again, I turned to leave.
“I have nothing to worry about,” he said. “But you... don’t you get any funny ideas just because we’ll be working together.”
“Sure thing,” I shot over my shoulder.
“I mean... don’t expect us to become friends during this.”
Wow. Since seeing him again at the Academy, he had never acknowledged being friends with me at camp, let alone knowing me. It was as if camp and our friendship, even our crush, never happened. Well, two can play that game.
I turned to him and narrowed my eyes. “Friends? In my book, I would never have been friends with you. If I ever did, it was only in your dreams.”
And I walked out.