Glad To Be Of Service [✔]

👨‍🍳 01: Whip It Up

Bankruptcy. The word echoes in my head like a broken record. I stare blankly at the steel countertops which have been polished thoroughly, enough to see my reflection.

How I miss the disarrayed clatters of utensils and pans, the steady chops of knives onto the cutting board, and the nonsense chats in between. Nothing can compare to the thrilling pressure of completing an order on the day of the event.

Everyone gets each other's back to give the best result, down from the most minor details of choosing napkins to the tableware, and of course, the food to be prepared.

And now? There is nothing to cook — nothing to do — but wait for someone to need our services.

I thought I hit the jackpot when I started a catering company late last year but it is a simple fluke. Now that the holidays are over, I don't think we can last. The culinary industry has always been a fast-paced business. One day you are up high then the next, several are stuck on the ground trampled by all the other innovations of other restaurants.

That can't be any truer for an outdoor catering service like ours that only provides for specific events.

All I have wanted is to make people taste my food but there are too many restaurants in this city. If I ever make my own, I doubt it'll survive after a month.

It is a cruel world for someone who is starting from the ground up with no connection.

Someone like me.

"Boss! We have an inquiry!"

I jolt from my seat and dash out of the kitchen. Jacob is sitting in the lounge, his mop of inky streaks facing the laptop. It did not even take ten steps to reach his side at how cramped the room is. Why? Of course, the majority of the space is allocated for my kitchen.

He swivels the chair with his legs akimbo. He moves the laptop in my direction and I grab the chair beside him.

Our website has an online chat section where customers can inquire. It's definitely a convenient feature, all thanks to Jacob. As in charge of marketing, he handles social media work. We won't even experience an ounce of success if not for him.

However, I can't help but cringe every time I see the small icon on the side. My short blonde hair is flawlessly combed and gelled into a slick style. Green irises have been edited to be more vibrant even from afar. The shadows and highlights of the image are adjusted, making my sharp jaws and tall nose prominent to complete the whole look of a cool untouchable jerkass cook in a black chef's jacket.

What's worse? I just have to make the signature pose of every chef alive — arms crossed, almost arrogantly, with a tight grin on my lips.

Jacob says it's a marketing strategy but it's pure bullshit. It only gathers crazy spammers most of the time.

Which is the same case as this one too. I realize this as soon as I read the information they stated.

"Who will even want to attend a party at midnight? Owls? And for fvck's sake, today? Are they messing with us? They even specified that there was an unknown number of guests. What do they want to happen? A miracle?" I rant, my brows wrinkling further the more I speak. "They should try better and make a believable prank."

"I thought it was some prank too but look, they say they will pay a hundred thousand bucks! Won't this be enough, or maybe even more, to pay our workers for their salaries, and the rent? You won't need to get a loan if we accept—"

"Hold up." I raise my hand. "Hundred thousand? Is that a scam I'm hearing? Just leave it alone."

We often charge 20 dollars per guest but they have not even stated the number of people attending. A hundred thousand must have thousands of guests if I do the math.