Page 23 of The Chef

And I know I will never find something like that, not when Fisher and his wife set such a perfect standard. Their love was something rare, something I know I can never experience.

It really was true love.

* * *

“Alright, let me do this quickly so I don’t have to see your annoying face any longer than I should, Bay Dover.”

Wow. What a wonderful start to my first shift this is turning out to be.

Cliff Finn motions at me to join him by the computer terminal in the restaurant bar.

“This is the till system. I’m not going to spend my time going through it with you, so I expect you to play around with it yourself and learn it on your own. Understood?”

I salute mockingly. “Yes, sir.”

Cliff rolls his eyes at my sarcastic gesture.

I can’t believe Cliff Finn is the one training me.

Why can’t it be Dominika?

“I need you to be taking this seriously,” he says.

“I would be if you weren’t being an unserious teacher,” I reply.

“Well, I might as well just leave you to figure everything on your own if you’re going to have an attitude.”

An attitude? He’s been the one grumbling since I started.

I got to the restaurant this evening expecting Dominika to be taking me around and showing me the place, instead, I found out she was busy in the kitchen cooking up the food for the few customers we had in the place and that my training would have to be taken over by Cliff, despite his many, many protestations.

He really didn’t want to be doing this.

And I really don’t want him to be training me.

But here we are.

The restaurant is a little busy, but nowhere near full. Saturday night and there are only a few tables. Insane. The only workers in here are Dominika and me. And Cliff if you counted him.

If he actually does any work beyond endlessly complaining about me.

I flick my hair back as Cliff takes me towards the front. “Well, I think I can safely say this is, hands down, the worst induction I’ve ever had the pleasure of going through. It’s only superseded by that insane interview I had with you barging in on yesterday.”

“Well, I’m only doing this because Dominika’s busy in the kitchen, so it’s pretty shit for me too. I don’t want to be teaching your sorry ass. It’s the last thing I want. Or need.”

“Excuse me?”

Cliff ignores me and waves his hand towards the staircase. “Toilets are down the stairs, and I am expecting you to clean them at the end of every night. No moaning.”

“Sounds like fun.”

We reach the front doors. Cliff takes a menu off the pile on the reception counter and thrusts it into my hands. “Read this and memorize it,” he commands. “I want you to be able to list out every item we have by the end of next week, you got that?”

I’m about to open my mouth in protest but I’m cut off by the front door of the restaurant. It swings open with a creak.

Customers?

A group of adults walks in. Four of them. Two guys and two women.