Love at Second Sight

Chapter 7

The only thing that overcomes hard luck is hard work. 

~Harry Golden

***

"Good morning everyone," she greeted all the chefs in the kitchen. A plush kitchen for a lavish hotel. Naturally.

"Morning ma'am."

"We met just yesterday morning and you all have already forgotten what I told you?" They gave her a confused look. "No ma'am, no chef, please. Call me anything but that. My full name is Savannah Victoria Reece, call me by either of the three names or a nickname, I don't mind."

"Got it!" they spoke in unison.

"Well, there's someone I want to introduce y'all to. She'll be here in a while, till then one of you brief me about how the meals and shifts work here and rest of you get back to work."

"Hi, um, Savannah. That works?"

The guy had, what looked like, shoulder-length blonde hair tied behind and a five o'clock shadow with the typical blue-gray irises that, all in all, gave him the perfect Italian ragazzo look.

"Absolutely. You are... Giovanni? Am I right?"

"Bang on. You remembered? That's fantastic memory, I must say."

"I'm good with names otherwise, plus your thick Italian accent helped a bit," she chuckled.

"Oh, yeah."

"Well then tell me how it works here."

"I'll start off with the meal service timings, then get to the shifts and working hours, sound good?"

"Sure," she agreed and started walking around the kitchen, signaling him to follow.

"So breakfast is from seven to ten, lunch from twelve-thirty to two-thirty and dinner from seven to ten, again. In between, we have patisserie—if guests want it—from three to five, five-thirty. That's about it."

She nodded. He watched her as she opened a pot, sniffed at the freshly made clam chowder, and said, "Delilah, add a bit of white pepper and iota of crushed rosemary."

"Yes, chef—Savannah," Delilah corrected.

"Continue, Giovanni."

"Yeah. Um, so, the breakfast shift starts at five-thirty, then lunch shift starts at ten. Then at two we clear everything up and get going for the patisserie shift and later, from five again we start prepping for dinner. Ten o'clock we clear everything, decided the next day's menu, which Xavier used to do until now—now, I guess, you will—and get back to our rooms."

"Okay. Now tell me what's for lunch today. Wait a minute," she stopped him, and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Chefs, Giovanni, here, was just filling me in about how the kitchen works, and I was told that Xavier was the chef in-charge, is that right, Xavier?"

"Yes, Ch—uh, Savannah."

"Good," she nodded once. "Listen up, chefs, I know I'm here to be your head chef until the gala night, but till Tuesday everyone will be taking orders from Xavier, including me, am I clear?"

Everyone looked hesitant to agree, while Xavier looked nervous—no, immensely apprehensive.

She let her gaze wander towards each person. "What's wrong?" When no one answered, she turned to Xavier. "Xavier?"

"You said I'd be in-command till Tuesday..."

"And?"

"Uh... how can I give orders when... you know, you're here? I mean, I can't instruct you, right?"