Belle of the Ball

Epilogue

3 years later

"So Carla, is it all right if I call you Carla?"

I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something smart, because what was the point of asking permission if you were just going to do it anyway?

"Of course." I replied sweetly.

"So, your story is pretty incredible to lots of people—old and young alike. Can you tell us how you managed to become the successful woman you did at such a young age? I mean, you had your first restaurant opened by what? Twenty seven? And now, cut to three years later and you have over twenty nine restaurants all over the country! I mean, people can't seem to get enough of your food!"

I nodded my head, trying not to get too hot from the burning over-head lights the camera crew brought with them. "Yeah, of course! Uhm, I don't think there's any direct path to success that you can take. There's no way you can just see someone do something and directly copy it, step by step, word for word, because everyone is different. Everyone lives different lives. I think the quickest way to success is using your head, and following your gut. And don't be too prideful—that gets you nowhere."

I smiled. I just knew Bobby was somewhere, laughing at me using his words. But that was probably the best piece of advice I'd ever gotten.

"So tell me, what else are you working on?" The interviewer continued.

"Well, I'm working on exactly what I told myself I would once my restaurants were successful. Now I'm going to be starting up my very own cooking show—so tune in tomorrow eight pm—to see me whip up some of my favorite dishes." I said, turning and directly facing the camera.

"Now, you know some people say you owe your success to your husband. What do you have to say to those haters?"

Disrespectful? Or classy? Disrespectful or classy? I sighed, deciding not to insult every single hater I had today.

"I'd say they were partially correct. My husband only provided me with the money, after I owned the building. When it burned down, that's when he stepped in and saved my dream because he's such an amazing man. But no, I don't owe my success to anybody. People came to my restaurant because they wanted my food, they wanted a luxurious, nice experience and I think that's what I provided people with." Then I shrugged my shoulders, deciding I was done with that question, and done with people hating on me for absolutely no reason.

"Now, could you describe to the viewers your home? I mean, most people haven't seen it, and it's so incredible just from the room I'm sitting in..."

I smiled. "My husband and I designed our dream home together. It's roughly...fifteen thousand square feet, with eight bedrooms, and ya know—the whole nine." I said, trying not to sound too braggy.

"Very, very nice. You don't think that's too big?" She asked.

I shook my head quickly. "Of course not, we have lots of friends and family, and they all have kids...so it works out pretty well, actually. Even though they don't live here officially, they might as well. They all have like their own rooms picked out and stuff."

"Aww!" She said, "That's so sweet. So tell me about motherhood. How does it feel, being so successful and being a mother at the same time?"