Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
“All right, so what do we have here?” Hope clapped her hands together and leaned over the counter as she stared at the food that had been prepared for her.
Apparently Florence had given the kitchen the heads up to do this so that Hope could taste test the food before she dove into what the problems were, as if food could be the only problem.
“We have chicken with lime butter, and salmon and coconut rice,” Chef Rosalie said.
Hope could already tell, just by looking at the plate, that this wasn’t going to be very good.
And her stomach recoiled at the thought of having to eat it.
She swallowed that lump of fear in her throat as it tried to lodge there permanently.
Picking up a fork and knife, she cut through the driest chicken she’d ever seen, shaking the table as she sliced because it took so much effort.
Not to mention the knife she was using was clearly dull.
She stared up at Chef Rosalie and grimaced.
The woman insisted on being called that, Hope had learned that quickly, and she couldn’t decide if it was a bid for respect or a manifestation of ego.
She plastered a smile on her lips as she popped a piece of the chicken into her mouth and started to chew.
And chew.
And chew some more.
Reaching for the water, Hope finally swallowed the piece of chicken with a bit of a cough and pushed the plate out in front of her.
She said nothing as she switched plates and tried the salmon—but she had no hopes for this delicate dish after her experience with the last one. Because she knew it would be that bad.
The skin was so crispy and solid that she couldn’t even cut through it.
Hope ended up just scraping what should have been flaky fish off of it, but it wasn’t flaky at all.
It was a solid lump. She had to chant in her head to convince herself to take a bite and froze, nearly spitting it out.
Chugging water, Hope leaned back in her seat and looked at Chef Rosalie.
“Both those dishes are inedible.” She took another sip of water.
“They’re not! They’re perfect.”
“Look, I know that I cook fancy food on television, that I specialize in high class meals, but this… I wouldn’t even serve this to my kid, and her palate is like any other palate.
” Hope shuddered. “Sit down for a minute.” She didn’t want Chef Rosalie to get on the offensive too quickly, which would make it so that Hope would have to fight through personality and defensiveness instead of actually working on the problem at hand.
Chef Rosalie slid into the chair next to Hope, although she did hesitate slightly as if she’d been expecting Hope to start throwing things. Perhaps at one point she would have, but not now.
“I’m not going to even start by asking if the meat you served me was fresh because I know it wasn’t.
” Hope glanced toward the camera and raised an eyebrow.
“If you want to cook a fancy meal, then you need the freshest ingredients.” Then she turned back to Chef Rosalie.
“But fresh isn’t always cheap, and I suspect that you have such a tight budget here that you’re getting food in and freezing it in hopes of making it last longer. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Chef,” Chef Rosalie answered.
Hope paused at that. In all the previous episodes that they’d filmed, she wasn’t sure she’d garnered this much cooperation right up front. Perhaps Florence Delarosa’s methods would work better.
Starting again, Hope looked Chef Rosalie over.
“Me saying this food isn’t good doesn’t mean that you can’t cook.
I’m sure you can cook a mean meal, but there are circumstances that often put such constraints on us that they make it impossible to make a good meal.
Is your kitchen in order? Everything is up to date? ”
Chef Rosalie paused. She held her breath, flicking her gaze all around the room and refusing to look directly at Hope. “No, Chef.”
“How bad is the storage in there?”
“It’s… if you want fresh food, Chef, we’ll need to get rid of everything in the kitchen.” Chef Rosalie’s cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.
Hope tensed. She wasn’t even sure that she wanted to look in the kitchens now, even though she knew she was going to have to.
She turned to the camera again, like Florence had told her to do.
“There are rules that apply to every kind of food when it comes to storage and how long it can be stored and in what condition. You can freeze meat, but even that has a date it needs to be disposed of.” Turning back to Chef Rosalie, Hope asked, “Are you aware of those dates?”
“Yes, Chef.”
“And is the food beyond those dates?”
“Yes, Chef.”
So this wasn’t just accidental negligence.
It was willful. Hope paused. Calling that out right now just seemed like an unnatural cruelty, especially with how forthcoming Chef Rosalie was being.
Hope was prepared to take this kitchen down if she had to, but it seemed as though it’d be easier than she’d originally thought it would.
“We’re going to look in the kitchen in a minute, but I do have one more question for you.”
“What’s that?” Chef Rosalie still refused to look at Hope again. That’d change in the course of the next week, Hope was sure of it, but she didn’t like it at the moment.
“Do you know what the smell in this hotel is?” Hope hadn’t thought about asking that question until now, but she wanted an answer, and she wanted to know if the rest of the staff was aware of the situation.
Chef Rosalie pursed her lips and nodded. “It’s mold, Chef.”
“Mold.” Hope had suspected. In fact, most of the crew had. But so far, no one was willing to confirm it. But that would make sense. They were in a very wet part of the country, and if there was a leak somewhere then that could create mold. But throughout the entire hotel?
“Three years ago, the fire suppression system cracked during a cold snap and flooded the entire hotel.” Chef Rosalie wrapped her hands together tightly.
“Colm paid for remediation, but then he started to get the bill and kicked them out because he didn’t have the money.
So they never fully dried the hotel out afterward. ”
Hope bit her lip, nodding slowly as Chef Rosalie continued to tell this story.
“Three years ago, the hotel didn’t stink. Now it’s…part of its charm. At least that’s what Colm tells us to tell the guests who complain.”
“Oh my God.” Hope lifted a hand and put it over her mouth, staring wide-eyed at Chef Rosalie.
“That’s… I’m going to need to talk to Ange about that.
” That would mean they’d have to rip out just about every single wall in this place just to make it better-smelling in here, and livable.
“Let’s, um… let’s start by going through the kitchen. ”
They spent the next hour walking the kitchen.
Hope and Chef Rosalie started to get the staff working on clearing out all of the old food and throwing it in the dumpster out back.
That’d take a good amount of time considering they had food packed away in the back of the freezer from two years ago, which was apparently what had been served to Hope earlier. She didn’t want to think about it.
When they were done with that, Hope created a cleaning sheet so they could get a good deep clean on the kitchen and the dining room. While she might not be able to fix the rest of the hotel, at the very least, she could control everything here.
They were just getting started on their tasks, when Hope heard a squeal from behind the camera. Furrowing her brow, she looked behind her and walked in that direction.
“Cadence, I’m shocked that Florence’s suggestions of talking to the camera and telling the rules actually felt good.”
Cadence looked up and met Hope’s gaze with a grin. Like she hadn’t even heard what Hope had said. Lyric stood there, a phone clasped in her hand and a sneaky grin on her lips too.
“Okay…” Hope trailed off the word. “Do I dare ask?”
“The first cooking video dropped last night.” Lyric squeaked again. Never had Hope imagined she’d hear that noise from this woman.
“Yeah. I know. Cadence gave me the schedule.” And she remembered it, though she hadn’t thought twice about it since Cadence had emailed her the drop schedule. “Did you watch it? Is it good?”
“First, you and Ange should tone down the flirt—at least some.” Lyric’s cheeks turned bright red, and she shifted her gaze from Hope to Cadence.
Hope bit her lip, saying nothing. It felt odd to scold the two people who actually knew about their relationship about that. And it definitely felt like Lyric was trying to protect her more than anything else.
“But, you might not want to.” Lyric leaned against Cadence’s shoulder before she handed Hope the phone.
She stared down at the video playing on the screen. It was just a small series of clips from the longer video, but holy fuck. When Hope glanced down at the views, her stomach plummeted, swung around the earth a couple times, and then came back.
“Six million.” The words barely left Hope’s lips. “W-when did this drop?”
“Last night as part of the promotion to push people to the YouTube full video.” Lyric snagged the phone back and flipped through it to show Hope again.
This time it was the full video from the network’s channel.
The looks they gave each other on the video were outrageous.
Hope’s stomach tightened. If anyone doubted they were in a relationship before, this would certainly turn heads.
Hope tried to hold back her smile. Being happy with Angelica was something she’d never thought would happen, but it had.
And she wanted to show it off, even if this was the only way she could reasonably do that right now.
“Ange is going to flip,” Cadence muttered.
“She won’t,” Hope responded. “Well, she will if she actually watches the video and the clips. But… I don’t think she will.” Hope scrolled down through the comments and smirked.
OMG, I love these two. Hope can cook me anything, and I’d eat her right up. Oops, did I type _her_?
Hope chuckled and scrolled down again.
They have to be a couple, right? Please, tell this lez, they’re a couple.
That food looks delicious. Certainly will be a nice appetizer to add to my repertoire for the lesbian book clubs I run.
Hope couldn’t stop smiling. This was beautiful, and she was absolutely in love with it.
This was the thrill that she got from her morning cooking show and creating food that people could do on their own.
It wasn’t just about making something for others to eat and watching just how good it tasted to them.
It was about equipping others to be able to do the same.
“I love this.” Hope gave the phone back to Lyric.
“I think this season is going to be the biggest yet. Once all the videos we shot drop, the ratings are going to go through the roof.” Cadence took the phone and looked at it.
“It’s just beginning, don’t you think?” Lyric said, her eyes alight with excitement. “Like you’re finally picking up steam and going to be able to push through the barrier to make this a long-lasting show?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Hope nodded, but something ate away in the pit of her stomach.
“What are you all looking at?” Florence’s voice startled them.
Hope tensed. That wasn’t a question of inquiry. It was a scolding about why they weren’t working and instead were just gossiping. “We were looking at the promotional video that Cadence filmed. It dropped last night.”
“I’ve seen it.” Florence’s lips thinned. She didn’t look pleased. But she should be, because that video was going to do what it was meant to do.
“And…?” Hope asked, waiting with bated breath for some kind of accolade. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but Florence was her new boss, of sorts, and she wanted to impress her.
“It’s good.”
That was high praise from her. Hope could tell that just from the small amount of time they’d known each other. That was as much as Florence was going to say on it.
“Yay! FloRo approves!” Cadence lifted her fists in the air and started dancing like she’d just scored a touchdown.
Hope shook her head with a laugh. “You’re a dork. But yes, FloRo approves.”
Florence rolled her eyes and nodded toward the kitchen. “How did the first scene go?”
“Well.” Hope crossed her arms, stilling and turning back to business. “I like the format of teaching the viewer. It helps calm tension—at least it did this time.” Hope grinned.
“Good.” Florence started to step away, but Hope caught her by the arm. “Was there something else?”
“I’m going to need to sit down with you and Ange today. Maybe Logan too.”
“What for?”
“To talk about a serious issue in the hotel. It’s not one that we’re going to be able to resolve.”
“I’m intrigued.” Florence crossed her arms and turned slightly, opening to Hope.
“Yeah, it’s about the stench.”
“The mold.”
“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Hope winked at her. “I need to check on the kitchen. Let me know when you want that meeting.”
“Will do.”