We were a Ticking Bomb [On Hold]

4-Who's That?

A week went by in the blink of an eye.

I had to learn my way around the kitchen first, find out where every little piece of equipment was meant to go, where the wooden spoons belonged, where the pans had to be returned to; and that no, you didn't put wooden boards in the dishwasher.

"Sally, remember to spray cooking oil on the wooden boards and wipe them with a clean towel."

I never forgot that again.

"Sal, we need more hot plates."

"What do you mean by hot?" I asked the first time, utterly confused.

"You need to fill up the hot box, Sal."

Like I knew what the hot box was. Note to self, the hot box is hot, chances of burning my fingers are fucking high.

"Sal, I need more ramekins."

"More what?" I yelled as I kept washing.

"Those little white things where I put the sauces." Li said, sounding just mildly annoyed.

Oh, right, like I ever saw a plate with food on it, all I got was yucky scraps and yolk stains that were hard to wash.

"Oh, okay."

"Sally, front of house wants the cutlery so they can start polishing."

That was the worst one. It was also the only time any of the wait staff would even talk to me, when complaining if their silver wasn't clean enough.

Maria had introduced me to a few of them, but truth be told, I didn't remember any of their names, and they still wouldn't even say good morning to me. So, fuck them.

The front of house (which I'll just mention as FOH from now on, or the ungrateful bitches) and back of house (BOH, my crew, my fam) were concepts that I was highly enjoying. It was something I have never heard of before, and I know, it sounds weird that I liked it. But being considered back of house was for me like being a part of something, part of the team. And contrary to my bad spine with FOH, I actually loved my little team in the kitchen. I got to like them all fairly quickly, and it was nice to see how they all worked like one big family.

I know, you're wondering when the fuck I'm finally going to introduce John into the story, but be patient my little padawan, things take time. And it took a little while until I actually ran into him. But, we're getting there. We're almost there.

By then, I mostly saw the same few faces, but I would start meeting lots of new people that worked the night shift in the next few days.

My favourite so far, without doubt, was Maria; she was like the kitchen's mum, looking after everybody. She was probably in her fifties, and she was the hardest working woman I ever laid my eyes upon. She often left me to fend for myself and do the dishes, as she'd be going around doing a thousand tasks that I had no idea what they were to be honest. But it was good, it meant I had to learn fast. And truth be told, I was getting pretty good.

And then there was Li. Li was an adorable Chinese guy that did most of the breakfast shifts.

"Sal, mol lamekins," he'd say, and by the end of the week, I would already be halfway through washing them. I was damn proud of myself.

So yeah, kitchen work was going great, but it was also exhausting. And to be honest, I was so happy when my days off finally came around. My hands had turned into messy and soggy looking things that were constantly covered in plasters so my thousand little cuts wouldn't get infected. My nails, once strong and painted with bright colours and amazing designs, were now as thin as paper and as dull as dishwater.

By the second week, I was settling into a nice routine. I would arrive 5 minutes before my shift started, enough time to cool down outside after biking for 15 minutes to get there, and then head to my dishy area.

Maria would make me a coffee and we would chat about what we did the night before as we went through cleaning the already messy bench to get started with breakfast service.

Friday that week, I was asked to work till later, as there was a huge event at night time with a 5 course dinner that would be served in the function rooms upstairs. So Maria wanted my help for a couple of hours, up until 4pm.

She left me alone for most of the morning while she ran around doing God knows what. There were more chefs than usual, Li and Marco (who ran breakfast during Li's days off) had run breakfast together, and I didn't really know many of the rest. (I promise I will tell you more about Marco a.k.a the sexy Puerto Rican later).

The head chef was in too. He was a big bulky guy, and I'm not going to lie, he looked scary. He had tattoos running down the length of his right arm, a square looking face with a double chin, and dark hair, cut military style. When he yelled, the kitchen shook, and I felt even smaller than I was. I mean, I know I'm barely 1,55 meters tall, but he made me feel like a toddler. His name is irrelevant, as no one ever used it. We just called him 'Chef'.

Sorry, I sidetracked. Let's get back to the point.

When it was about 3.30pm, I was tired and couldn't wait to get home. I had only one shift left before my days off, and my mind was already planning my weekend.

And that's exactly when it happened.

Picture this: I'm standing by the sink, the steam of the dishwasher sticking to my skin as I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. I close the lid, a new cycle starts. And then I hear a commotion, Maria is standing next to me and she turns around to look to the back, to the hallway that connects with the staff entrance. Feeling curious, I look too, and I see him walking in.

Oh, my fucking glorious God!

The first thing I noticed was the longboard hanging under his arm. No, that's not true. The first thing I noticed was him, as a whole. A godly figure brought down to earth, a vision that was like something taken out of my wildest dreams. I could hear the fireworks, I could see the sparkles shining in the air around him, and I swear for my life that there were fucking rainbows coming off his ass hole. He was everything I ever dreamed of. He was sexy as fuck, and don't think I'm a superficial bitch, I mean, I am a little, but fuck me he was a sex bomb.

But it wasn't just that, he also emanated a kind of energy that I was immediately attracted to. He screamed bad boy meets cute, he screamed power and confidence. I mean, damn, the whole room had turned around to greet him as if he was a celebrity.

I looked him up and down, probably more than once. He was wearing camo shorts with a black belt, a green t-shirt with a logo that looked like a rock band or something, and a black baseball cap with a light blue design on the front that made his eyes pop even in the distance. He was looking to the side, being greeted by all the chefs, bumping fists and giving bro hugs around (you know what I mean, those weird half hugs guys do when they use only one arm and bump their chest while keeping their hips as far away from each other to make sure their spades don't clash), and my vision tunneled on the straight line of his jaw. I'm a sucker for a good jawline, and his one was perfect. So kissable.

By that point, I'm sure my own jaw was hanging open. I noticed the stretcher in his earlobe, which was plain black and the size of a small coin, and then I looked up to his eyes, which seemed to be the palest shade of blue. As he took his hat off and ran his fingers through his messy blond hair, one single thought clouded my mind.

He needs to be mine.

María yelped then, bringing my attention back to her after what felt like an eternity but was probably just a fragment of a second.

"Oh, Johnny boy! You're back!" She said happily as she trotted over and hugged the guy.

"Who's that?" I heard myself whisper as I tried to fix my messy and sweaty hair.