2. Dara
2
Dara
I wipe my forehead with my sleeve and toss the mushrooms in the pan. The kitchen is so hot today, and of course, the air conditioning is broken. Again! I shouldn’t really expect anything else from Chuck. He’s a cheapskate at the best of times.
It took me ages to finally convince him to buy better cuts of meat. He argued for weeks, until I explained that the better the meat, the more customers will come through your front door. I mean, it is Riverdale, not some bustling city. There’ll hardly be a stampede, but I do want him to keep the customers he has.
It’s the city I miss. I used to work in a restaurant that would make this place look like a hen house, but, well, let’s just say, things didn’t go as I planned, and so with my tail between my legs, I had to return home to lick my wounds.
Mark, my brother, let me stay at his place until I could get on my feet, and with few options for gourmet chefs in little ol’ Riverdale, I had to take the first job I thought I might actually like.
Joe’s Diner, even though it’s run and owned by a guy named Chuck, is hardly my idea of a dream kitchen. It’s cramped and hot, with absolutely no room for any creative flair. The most exciting thing on the menu is the steak. But, hey, it pays the bills.
I’ve always wanted my own place, and one day, I’m determined to get it. Only now, being on minimum wage, it’s going to take me far longer than it might have done before. My dreams have literally been put on the back burner, right next to the mushrooms.
The fact that I was on great wages in the city meant I was able to put away savings. I swore I wouldn’t dip into them, even when I was forced to move back home. And I didn’t. It’s my nest egg—the thing I’m keeping closely guarded so once I’ve gathered enough capital, I can open a restaurant where I’m in charge, and my recipes are of my own creation.
Beth comes into the kitchen with her usual cheery smile. The woman is always smiling and has such a joyous energy about her. It makes working in this place easier. There are four waitresses who work here, and Beth is my favorite. The others are great; they just don’t have Beth’s love for life.
“There’s a hunky guy out there who wants me to pass on compliments for his dinner,” she gushes.
I raise an eyebrow at her flushed cheeks. “That cute, huh?”
She raises her eyes to the ceiling and sighs. “Dara, this guy is hot. I mean, look.” She shows me her forearm. “I got burnt just standing three feet away.”
I laugh at her because firstly, she always entertains me with her quick wit, and secondly, I actually looked down at her arm.
“I bet he’s not as hot as this kitchen,” I reply, blowing a long breath from my lungs.
She giggles. “You might be surprised. He’s a total hunk. Go and look for yourself.” She presses, nodding to the door, eager for me to confirm her assessment.
I take the pan off the heat and walk around the huge prep counter, passing Ricky, who is tirelessly preparing a pile of vegetables. Reaching the two-way door, I peek through the circular hole and scan the diner. There are a few customers, and it takes me a second, but when I see him, my jaw drops, and I gasp.
“Told you,” Beth says, huddling by my side.
“What on earth is he doing here?” I balk.
“You know him?” she cries excitedly.
“Sure, I do. He’s a big-shot plastic surgeon from the city.” I look over at Beth. “He’s a billionaire, you know.”
“No?” she gawks, her jaw dropping.
“Yep.” I nod, looking back through the window at him. “Let me guess. He’s the one who ordered the steak?”
Beth grins and nods back.
While I’m still surprised to see him, I’m now curious. “With all his money, it makes you wonder what he’s doing eating in this place. Or what he’s doing in Riverdale at all.”
I mean, Beth isn’t wrong. Alex Bennett is a total hunk. He’s nearly six feet tall with jet black hair that sits at his collar. He’s sporting a full beard and mustache, and the suit he’s wearing does little to hide his muscular frame. Even now, his biceps threaten to tear the cloth.
The last time I saw Alex was two years ago. We passed each other on the street in the city. It was a quick hello, a bit of small talk, and then we both went on our way.
“How do you know him?” Beth asks.
“Dr. Alex Bennett,” I say, putting on a snooty voice and making Beth laugh, “is my brother’s best friend. They met when they were both out in Ghana about fifteen years ago. Mark was there helping Mom and Dad. I don’t know what Alex was doing. But they swapped numbers and they’ve been best friends ever since.”
“He really is cute, though,” Beth sighs, looking more than a little dreamy.
I snarl. “Don’t let his looks fool you. His bark is as bad as his bite. He’s been a grump for as long as I’ve known him.”
Which is about eight years.
Well, I say “known” him. The truth is, I don’t really know him at all. We were first introduced at a dinner party at Mark’s house. I was only grateful that there were more than just the three of us, or I would have been bored out of my skull. Alex didn’t converse much and seemed to wear a scowl as a permanent feature.
The next day, when I saw Mark in the town, I told him his friend needed to lighten up. Mark told me he was going through a messy divorce. That made me feel bad, but then, that was eight years ago, and the man hasn’t changed. He still looks as miserable now as he did back then. Clearly, it’s true: Money really does not buy you happiness.
“Maybe he’s here to see Mark,” Beth offers, once I’ve returned to my station to begin the joyful job of cutting onions.
I shake my head. “Mark’s not here, Beth. You know that.”
“Oh, yeah,” she exclaims.
“He’s out in Ghana, helping Mom and Dad. They’ve just begun building another school for the children there. He’s not due back for weeks.”
“Then why is he here?” She jerks her head toward the dining area.
I shrug and pretend like I don’t care, but in truth, I’m as curious as my energetic little colleague. I could understand his presence if my brother was in town, but it makes no sense for Alex to be here otherwise.
Strange .
After I plate another order, Beth takes it out to the dining room, and I continue with my job. Now I’ve seen him, Alex Bennett remains on my mind as I cook. I’ve looked at it from every angle, and I just can’t figure out what he’s doing in Riverdale. It doesn’t make sense.
A little while later, Beth returns with an excited smile. “Your grumpy billionaire surgeon wants to speak to you.”
For a second, I’m shocked. “Did you tell him who I was?”
Beth frowns and shakes her head. “Of course not. By the way you spoke about him earlier, I figured you wanted to keep your distance. He just asked to speak to the chef.”
And I did want to keep my distance. I still do. Clearly, though, I have no choice. So now, I have to do the walk of shame. The last time we met, I was still working in the city. From a high-end city restaurant to a small-town diner. How the mighty have fallen.
It’s bad enough that the whole of Riverdale knows about my failure. I grew up here, and the townsfolk were excited for me when I got my big break. It was tough, coming home and having to face them all.
Now, I have to do it all over again. Only having to speak to someone who is so successful in the city I had to leave just feels like an even bigger slap in the face.
I straighten my whites, pushing them down over my slender frame, and then check that my hair is still neatly tied in a bun. There are a few strands of blonde that have escaped, but I’m not going to worry about that now.
Reluctantly, I head out to the dining room and walk over to Alex’s table. When he sees me, his jaw drops, and he jumps to his feet. “Dara?”
Here we go.
“What are you doing here?” he gawps, his wide eyes taking in my uniform.
He’s several inches taller than me, and he’s looking down at me, which makes me feel even more defensive. I would have preferred he stayed seated. But I pin on a smile.
“I could ask you the same question,” I defer.
My tactic doesn’t work.
He’s still frowning. “But what happened to the restaurant? You loved that job.”
Inwardly, I groan. I’ve had to answer this question so many times since being back, and after six months, I figure I’ve spoken to every single resident of Riverdale in one capacity or another. I thought I was done having to explain myself.
“It burned down,” I say sarcastically, desperately trying to avoid having to get into this.
“What?” he blurts. “When?”
I smile mirthlessly. “I’m joking, Alex. Things just didn’t work out, that’s all.”
I’m not telling him any more than he needs to know. It’s no one else’s business anyway, and I hardly know the guy.
For a second, he looks like he’s going to push it. Maybe he doesn’t because crossed my arms over my chest and I’m giving him all the vibes of not wanting to talk about it.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He looks a little uncomfortable, but then continues, “I just wanted to compliment the chef, but now I know it’s you, I’m not at all surprised the food was so good.”
“Thanks,” I reply dryly. I’m so tempted to ask why he’s here, but instead, I make my excuses. “Listen, I’ve got to get back. I don’t want this place burning to the ground.”
“Yes, of course,” he says. “But I wanted to speak to you about something else. I’m throwing a dinner party next week, and I wondered if I could avail of your services.”
I’m a bit confused. He lives in the city, and from what Mark has told me, he has a chef of his own.
“Is your chef sick?”
Alex shakes his head. “I’ve bought a house out here.”
Well, blow me down with a feather.
I can’t hide my surprise, and seeing it, Alex half smiles. I think it’s the most he’s capable of.
“I know,” he says with a shrug. “It’s a bit of a curve ball. But I could really do with your skills. You’ll be well compensated.” He looks around. “Far better than you’re making in this place.”
I hesitate, but I don’t know why. I’ve cooked for people higher up the totem pole than Alex Bennett. Besides, if he gives me free rein over the menu, I’ll be able to experiment with the creative flair I miss so much. And let’s face it, I could do with the money. It will go straight into my savings and take me one step closer to my dream.
“All right,” I say. “Where is this house of yours?”