Tailor Made by Tasha Lewis

Author:Tasha Lewis [Lewis, Tasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-12T03:00:00+00:00

It doesn’t take long for things to go haywire. No matter how hard you plan for perfect, something always goes wrong. I hear my heels click as I walk to the back of the estate and down a slope. If I don’t calm down and chill, I’m going to eat it on this hill in these shoes, and that is the last thing I need. I hold my gown in my hands as I slow down, making my way into the kitchen, mindful of the wet floors and my heels.

“Chef, why are the guests getting cold food?” I exclaim, and the kitchen falls silent.

“Cold? The food isn’t cold!” His face turns red as he walks to the full-length heating cabinet to pull out a few plates of French Byron potatoes with grilled salmon steaks to prove to me that they aren’t cold. The first three courses have already been sent out, the soup, appetizer, and salad. All that is left is this main course and the desert.

I watch as Chef Billy pulls a plate out and touches the food with his fingers. He stabs his index finger into the salmon steaks then he picks it up and takes a bite out of it. His face changes from being red to purple. He’s beyond pissed.

“Whose job was it to turn on the heat cabinet and keep the food warm?” he roars.

“Look, Chef, I don’t care whose job it was, the food is cold. Fix this. Now. I’ll go stall for time.”

I turn on my heel and stride purposefully toward the exit. I wobble a little and one of the servers grabs me to help steady me. Shaking my head I take in a calming breath. I’ve got to slow down.

I kick off my shoes under one of the serving tables that’s draped in a white cloth with a black overlay, deciding to go barefoot, good thing my dress covers my feet. Now let’s hope I don’t cut my feet up too badly. I just can’t do the heels right now. I run up the grassy slope and out to where the guests are seated for dinner and quickly find Sophia to tell her about the food.

I was able to catch the mistake before any guests were served, as I was the one that handled the first plate. Something just felt off, and I was right. The food wasn’t exactly cold, but it wasn’t hot, either. I watch as Sophia’s eyes narrow, as if I’m the one that did this, even though the food wasn’t my responsibility. I try to keep my cool as I watch her take the stage and pull the attention of the people to her. She has a gift and, even if she’s a monster to work with, she can command people's attention.

Plates begin to filter out of the kitchen a few minutes later. Walking over to the first waiter, I pull his plate down, touch the bottom, and rest my hand just above the food to feel for the heat, which is there.

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