Sweet Tarte – Sweet Enough to Eat

He smiles. “Thank you, sir. I’d be happy to take your order right now, but is there anything else I can get for you? Would you like to see the wine list?”

I shake my head. “Choose a wine for me. Cost isn’t an issue. And I’d like to have tonight’s special, please.”

“Yes sir, of course. We have an excellent bottle of—”

“That will be fine.”

“Very good, sir.” He collects the unopened menu from in front of me. “I think you’ll be delighted with tonight’s special. Will anyone be joining you?”

“I’m sincerely hoping so. But not until after I’ve eaten.”

“For dessert then?”

I nod and he smiles as he turns away.

Oh yes, definitely for dessert…

9

Victoria

I WIPE THE BACK OF my hand over my forehead and it comes away with a sheen of sweat. The kitchen is like a furnace, and even with the last orders completed and sent out to the tables there’s still prep work to do for the desserts. I had no idea that working in a restaurant like this would be such hard work, but for all that there’s a huge grin on my face.

Because I did it.

Maybe I can’t read a recipe. Maybe I don’t always follow the rules. But if this evening is anything to go by, I can cook a pretty mean meal and do so under pressure.

The Valentine’s Day special was particularly popular. Orders kept coming in so fast I couldn’t keep up. In the end, Cornelius told all the other assistants that I was in charge and they were to follow my lead. It was quite something.

“So, how do you think your first shift is going?” Cornelius grins as he steps up beside me loading the dishwasher. “Leave that, somebody else can do it.”

He snaps his fingers, and before I can reply one of the other assistants has already stepped in to take over, letting me step away for a breath.

“It’s been amazing,” I tell him. “Really amazing. Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Thank you. You’ve been a breath of fresh air and you’ve really helped to make this evening a success. I don’t have to tell you how important the opening night is, but you’ve proven yourself.” He draws a deep breath. “In fact, I have one more favor to ask.”

“Of course, anything,” I say without hesitation. Cornelius isn’t just an amazing head chef, he’s also fair to all his employees. I know he wouldn’t ask me to do anything unless it was important.

“Well, you don’t know what it is yet, and I’ll understand if you want to say no.” He licks his lips. “We have a very special guest here tonight. A food critic of sorts, but a restaurateur himself as well. He had your special and he’s asked to speak to the chef personally. Of course, normally that would be my job and I’d be happy to do it. But the truth is, I’m not the chef of tonight’s special, you are, and I’d feel terrible taking that spotlight away from you. You deserve the credit for creating that meal.”

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. Everything has happened so fast over the last couple of days, and suddenly what happened with Dimitri is right back in my mind. It seems like that moment was the most important thing to happen to me, even when my family is facing eviction, I’ve been kicked out of school, lost my job and gained a new one. That time I spent with Dimitri seems to fill every part of me, and I feel myself growing sad and angry as I think about it. How could I have got him so wrong? How can anyone say the things he said to me and not feel guilty about them being total lies?

“Oh, Victoria, I’m sorry, what’s wrong?”

I reach up to my face and realize I’m crying when my fingers come away wet. “Sorry,” I mutter. “I’ve had a lot happen over the last couple of days.”

Cornelius nods. “I understand. If you want me to deal with this customer, just say so. And if you want to end your shift there, please do. We can cope without you for dessert and you’ve earned it.”

“No.” I shake my head. “No, I’d like to speak to him.”

He watches my eyes for a moment, then sniffs as he snaps his fingers at another assistant. “Please get Victoria something to wipe her eyes and face, and a clean apron.” He lowers his voice as he turns to me. “Aprons get dirty in here, but for this customer I think we ought to put on a bit of theatre.”

AT FIRST, I DON’T NOTICE him. I don’t know how that’s possible, seeing as he’s so enormous and imposing, but it happens. Maybe it’s the number of customers in the restaurant, or perhaps it’s the half-dozen waiters moving between the tables, but it’s not until we’re almost at his table that I realize who it is I’m supposed to talk to.