1
Arisa
I can see my reflection in the glass. I look so small. My hair is pulled up into a tight bun, and I'm dressed in all black. A light shade of peach colors my lids and my lips are nude but glossy.
There are giant locusts swarming in my belly. The tingling feeling radiates out through my entire body, sending an excited, but nervous, shiver over my skin. My feet feel like they’re filled with lead and secured to the sidewalk with metal brackets.
I can't believe I'm actually here at The Backyard.
This is surreal. This restaurant is the Cadillac of restaurants. It's a place that only needs its name to carry its legacy. Word of mouth is all it needs to bring people in.
The brick facade is painted bright white, and the glass windows are jet black. The tint is so dark you can't see inside at all. There's an etched picture of grapes and a bottle of wine in the glass, with The Backyard arching over it in white letters.
A blue awning stretches out, covering a good portion of the sidewalk. The same logo is printed on the dangling edge, and a neon light is bolted to the brick on the side, glowing the same bright blue.
I exhale a slow breath, forcing myself to take the final steps toward the door. Gripping the silver bar, I pull the door open and get hit with a rush of cool air and a flurry of scents. Garlic, onion, basil, tomato, all of them blend together into a delicious aroma that fills the dining room.
“Hi there!” a young girl says as she comes around the corner with her arms full of menus. “You're a little early. We don't open for another hour, sorry.”
“Oh no, I'm not here to eat. My name's Arisa, and today's my first day.”
“Arisa, yes, the new chef. I'm Daniel. Come on, follow me this way. I'll take you to the kitchen.” She smiles at me over her shoulder as she points out the bar and the dining area. “All the tables are numbered for the servers, to make it easy. You must be pretty special for Mr. Martisse to hire you without an in-person interview.”
“Special, no. I'm as surprised as you, but how could I say no?”
She giggles and nods. “Yeah, I hear that. Mr. Martisse is a hard man to say no to.”
Her long red hair is braided, resting almost against the center of her back. She's dressed nicely, wearing black dress pants and heels with a white blouse. There's a big pearl necklace hanging around her neck, and her earrings are long and thin with a pearl at the top. She has an old Hollywood movie star feel to her.
She's telling me a little bit about what a general shift looks like, and how no one shares tips, you get to keep what you make. “So, Mr. Martisse should be in the kitchen. If he's not, he'll be back shortly. He's a busy guy and tends to run around a lot. But Cheryl can get you started and show you the kitchen if he's not here.”
Daniel stops at the silver kitchen door and holds out her arm for me to go first. I push the door open.
“Hey,” a girl calls out with a touch of annoyance in her voice. “We go out that door, not in.”
“Calm down, Cheryl, she's new,” Daniel says behind me. “This is—”
“Arisa St. Germain? What the hell are you doing here?”
Cheryl Toomey. I know this girl. We went to culinary school together, and if I'm being honest, I didn't care for her much. She was one of those students who put themselves above everyone else. She was crass, loud, and reminded me of one of the girls from that movie Mean Girls. Eye rolls, snickers when someone else screwed up, everything you'd expect in high school.
“Hey, Cheryl. Today's my first day,” I say.
“Oh good, you two know each other,” Daniel says as she holds the door in her hands. “Where's Mr. Martisse?” she asks Cheryl.
“Oh, you mean Monroe?” The way she says his name makes me want to shake my head. She's playing a game with Daniel. One that says, I'm closer to the owner than you are. “Oh, he'll be back soon.” She sets down the knife and wipes her hands on the towel tucked in her waist. “I'm just doing some prep. Arisa, why don't you grab a menu and get familiar with it. I'm sure you won't know what half of the dishes even are.”
Of course, you don't think I will.
Cheryl is eyeing me, her lips pursed up tight with a sly smirk. I can already tell she isn't going to make working here easy. What she fails to realize is that I'm up for the challenge. I want this job. Having The Backyard on my résumé is going to do amazing things for my career. It will open doors that would never be available without it.