Hi guys, so this may seem like my first story but I'm an experienced writer, though I'm not sure whether to carry it on or not. This may around a five parter maybe even more, it just depends on what you think. So please tell me if I should carry on or not? thanks =)
My fingers slowly build up to a cramp and my knuckles turn white, I'm practically racing to the restraunt and it's only five thirty in the morning. What fucked up idiot thought it would be a good idea to do delivery times before seven? yes the food needs to be used for when opening time hits but who opens before nine at least?
Most people on my row don't even open till late afternoon.
The roads are considerably empty though it should have been expected, I can't help but let go of the wheel with my right hand to put down the window to try to get rid of the sticky, humidity in the car. I turn onto the neatly grown row of upper class restraunts and like every other day drive past the artificially grown palm trees spaced out opposite the railing which over looks the clear blue ocean.
As if on cue the lights flicker on as I park opposite my restraunt; the place I built on my own, now one of the most popular eateries for the passengers coming off the docks. 'pequeña cocina' or to the locals 'Santi's place', my Puerto Rican roots come out in my food, a place where I can go into my world and create what I want.
Manically pulling my black, leather shoulder bag from the passenger seat, I half-open the door with my right arm and kick it open with my leg. Firstly I feel the humidity once again hit me at full force, the line of sweat above my brow wastes not time in returning, "If it's like this now imagine what mid days going to feel like" a thick Irish accent speaks from out of nowhere.
Fully pulling myself together and double checking the vehicle is locked up and begin to walk across the cobbled road, I have to admit as much of a pain as all the roadwork's where and all the disruption it caused, they did a damn good job, and being perfectly honest business seems to be going up since people visit the dock more often for its beauty.
I can quickly put a name to the voice when my restraunt neighbour Patrick jumps from the back of his van carrying a large crate of alcohol, he owns an Irish themed tavern which I find inevitable, "mornin' Miss Lopez" his soothing voice greets.
"Hey" once fully on the side-walk I stop "what are you doing here at this time?"
"Ah if I told you that Miss Lopez, then I'd have to kill you" though he sports the most Irish of Irish accents I've ever heard, his sense of humour's compatible to mine, also the flash backs of Rory leprechaun are slowly wearing off, "only jokin' I'm actually here every Thursday at this time" he finished.
I sigh deeply trying to hint at my distress, "poor thing" I joke, for some unknown reason I take sudden interest in his mechanical removal of crates and begin to stare until I realise he's emptied the last one.
"I'm guessin' you're not a mornin' person" I'm not sure if the regular cutting off the end of words annoys me or the fact I find it quite cute takes over, "no?" he bursts my bubble when I notice his head shaking, looking for an answer.
"Uhh no, not really, as you can probably tell" I smile.
"Well Miss Lopez, I better get goin' I owe you a drink though"
"You do?" I smirk, "I do." was all he replies with before leaving me and entering his building.
Like every day I take a quick look around before heading to my second home, considering the time it's still fairly dark though you can see the sun fighting upwards in the distance. My picture perfect moment was shortly lived, "Hey Lopez get your ass up here, these box's ain't gonna move themselves" the familiar voice blares behind me.
I turn briskly with the click of my heels, my head chef Miranda stands looking sort of pissed with her hands in the air. I'm guessing she isn't a morning person either, her normally crease free white's look as if she pulled them from the laundry basket five minutes ago, not tucked in at all they swallow her tall, skinny frame.
Aswell her hair strings from her scalp while the back equals a bird's nest, "wow you're in a good mood"
Taking steps closer towards her I get an even more concentrated glance at how angry she looks, "also that is no way to talk to your boss" she knows I'm only teasing.
"Oh fuck that San, since when did you care?" she grins. I trail up the few marble steps and meet her near the door where we quickly swap possessions so I take the overflowing box of vegetables while she juggles my bag and the contents that are spilling over the edge.
"Well please don't talk like that in front of the rest, I don't need them all treating me like shit" I warn, entering the restraunt I notice the lights in the kitchen are have already been turned on. My restraunt décor is very modern, being on the sea front the two walls that you first go through are glass and fold back for days like this in the Summer, I accidentally made a path way to the bar at the back since the sides have built-in benches and the rest is square chairs and tables.
It feels sort of weird to see everything so perfect, not one drink spilt across a table, no patches of stickiness on the floor and each piece of cutlery untouched.
"No worries, we know you love me more than them" I splutter sarcastically at her words, stopping at the bar she plonks my stuff on the counter and continues while I struggle towards through the swinging kitchen door, "anyway I put the rest of the order in the fridge, except those huge glass bottles of vodka you wanted"
"Where are they?"
"In the extra stocks cupboard, why did you even want them by the way?" I bite my lip uneasily, "they're not mine"
"Then whose are they?" she asks swiftly turning to look at my face through the wall gap between the servers table, "Pucks" I know how much she hates him, the dick head begged me to give him her number about two years ago. He took her on one date, one date was all it took for her to meet his jack ass qualities, oh and it didn't end well, she kicked his sorry ass out of the restraunt around fifteen times after he did wrong.
"Pucks?! what's that douche bag want with nearly twenty-two litre bottles of vodka?"
"You counted?" I ask with an incredulous look on my face, I can feel a guilt ridden blush rosy my cheeks, "no but it's a big box" she informs.
"So?" I thought she'd forgotten once I turned looked down permanently to empty the white cardboard box, "they're for his bar, I took a load of drinks off him around Christmas when we ran short, this is just what I owe him" I smile, she recognised my tone as a whine and turned away trying to stay away from my dark side.
It's not that I abuse my staff, but I like them to know who's boss, "ok then" she grumbles.
It takes till nearly nine to empty the contents of each box, however it was worth it, it feels like wearing a whole new wardrobe worth of clothes when opening the fridge to show packages and packages of unopened edible products. The pantry is filled with giant bags of polenta and sweet treats, though the thought of my excitement makes me cringe, at a younger age happiness like this came in the form of a jock or credit card, now it was a fridge... wow I'm fucked up.
My staff arrives around this time if they can be bothered since we open early lunch time, the sun's finally up in the sky and my first muffin basket of the day has already arrived "l-l-lieu francais" I attempt to pronounce nowhere near a French accent, our youngest waitress Hailey stops giggling and snatches the card from my hand.
"Lieu francais, newest restraunt on the block... already kissing up to the boss" she smirked in her New York accent, I've always had a soft spot for Hailey, being only twenty she's dragging herself through college a million miles away from all her family.
"We got's ourselves some Frenchies" I fondly remember the last bunch, Karen the owner worked three doors down and owned a patisserie, she didn't stay around for too long though.
"Ha French my ass, check out the menu" Hailey chuckles handing me the menu "Laminated... fancy" I mumbled to myself, the menu consists of mostly American products "what the fuck, since when was macaroni cheese French?" how pathetic.
I annoyingly throw the paper back into the basket before swiping it off the counter and into Joseph the other waiter, "thanks" he grumbles walking away. He's used to it, Joe's more like the odd one out, everyone treats him as the helpless little boy but he doesn't help himself considering he's mostly known as 'socially awkward Joe'.
Hailey comes back over from behind the cashier till in the midst of tying her half black apron behind her back, "by the way your boyf called, he want's his vodka"
"He's not my boyf, and tell him to come get it"
"No offense but if I was him I'd be too scared to come here" I thought about what she said, Miranda does hold a grudge, "good point" I swallow.
"Good morning bitches, have no fear Carlos is here" My cousins grand entrance doesn't go un-noticed though I purposely choose to ignore him. As a child me and him where practically joined at the hip but during high school he did his thing and I did mine. However around six years ago, three years before I opened my restraunt exactly he re-entered my life by following me to Los Angeles and jumping on the band wagon.
He committed himself to the local television production studio and currently planning the next big thing, well what he believes to be the next big thing, "what are you doing here?" I finally ask after he kisses my cheek and walks around the opposite side of the table I was fixing.
"Where's my 'oh how I've missed your purty face?'" he teases, his accent is close to home for me and helps just a little.
"Sorry... how's life goin' beautiful?" I joke cupping his lower face with my left hand, he bats his eye lashes sweetly "oh you know, just got my first pick up show"
Instantly relief sets into me, I know it may be selfish but I was convinced he was going to leave back home if word didn't go any further, though over all that I still feel pride, "oh my god, really?" I leave my side to walk around the table with open arms.
"Mmhmm it's not necessarily dubbed to be the next big thing, but it's a start" he replies with an optimistic attitude. Probably another huge difference between the two of us.
"Well I'm so proud of you" I grin. Within minutes a Hailey joined the conversation being her nosey self, my mind began to wander and their speech blocked from my ears. Everyday was different in this place, some times it can be hectic and hardly hand able, but rarely nobody moved except when the waiters lose their patience and began to wander from wall to wall.
I escape the mumbles to get to the kitchen, Miranda's inevitably bossing around the kitchen staff over who knows what, but I leave her to it, I once attempted to get involved with the cooking thing, but she went all Gordon Ramsay on me and it didn't look too great.
"San?" I hear an unrecognisable voice call, my name is used so much throughout the day that I sort of lose track to who's who, "yes who ever just called me?" nobody turns nor moves, "hello?" I ask again.
"Over here" I here a squeak, I look to the left of the entrance and see a very small pair of legs behind the large box she's carrying.
"What's in the box?" the more things people bring the less room we have, "try these" Tina slides the box onto the bar counter and pulls out a black plastic container.
She does this a lot, and as pissed as I am to listen as soon as she opens it the smell of Chinese spice and sautéed vegetables fill the air, the sweet aroma makes saliva drip off my tongue and my eyes wander to scan the food.
"Ok whatever's in that box, I want" I scramble leaning closer to get an even more concentrated scent.
"Pan-Asian"
"Pan-Asian?" oh God this better not be another one of her weird food streaks she tries to pull me into.
"Yes, we decided to mix it up a little and swap just noodles for Pan-Asian"
"Isn't it just the same thing?" she pulls a face at my disinterest, "no, it's all Asian foods, so; Korean, Japanese..." on her rant she doesn't notice that my fingers have already found a noddle, I tilt my head back and let it drop into my move and hum satisfied as I chew.
"You like?"
"Actually it isn't that bad" I smirk, she looks quite proud considering the past hundred times she's tried to get me to try something new it ended in either spitting into the nearest trashcan or throwing it back at her. Within seconds I've taken another few bites of the dish but realise my breakfast was slowly becoming fried pasta,
"ladies" my cousin worms his way over noticing his 'favourite' Asian.
"Carlos! what are you doing here?" I eye the two of them as they submerge into pointless conversation, why is she always so happy? why is he always so happy? I never question my naturally snarky attitude but lately I can never find the big thing.
After going through a second round of congratulations he dismissed himself on 'business', aka he noticed a hot runner through the window and decided to take his chances.
"Anyway I better get going too, it's nearly opening and I haven't even started"
"All's you have to do is chop some vegetables and throw them in a wok" I reply with my internal thoughts.
"No Santana not the case, besides you can't say anything you have a huge kitchen staff to do everything for you"
"It's cos my restraunts better"
She chuckles heartily, "yeah ok you believe that, see you later" and with that she leaves, Tina and her husband where two of the first people I met the day I moved here, and as much as I love to piss her off and purposely flirt with Mike we're close friends.
Hours later my interests been caught by the on going fan near the cashier, no one dares step in the path since they know I'd push them away. Through all the calm I see an unusually flustered Hailey dodging the crowd to get closer, "uhh there's a problem" she stutters stopping in fornt of the desk, maybe it's my already overly heated looking self that scares her but I'm guessing not.
I turn my attention on her eyes, "th-there's sort of a food truck outside" was all she had to say before I flew to the front of the restraunt dodging my fan and small jacket.
No one, and I mean no one ever dares step before my place, if only they knew the popularity. I wonder what ass it is this time.
It looks happy, that pretty much the only words I can find to describe it. In the distance a tall blonde faffs around the front opening handing powdered sugar covered treats to passers-by, I'm pretty sure if her sickingly sweet smiles gets any bigger her face might break. The truck itself is fairly plain yet pastel colours stripe the front, "who is it?" Hailey murmurs from behind me as I stare out the window.
"Not a clue... but I'm going to find out" without thinking I storm down the hot marble steps with the click of my heels, getting closer I notice her head rise in my direction to show icy blue eyes and baby pink lips, "hey, I-"
"Let's just cut to it, who the hell are you? and what are you doing outside *my* restraunt?!" he face drops and a frowns falls onto her lips, she freezes for a moment and straightens up.
"Uhh I-I'm Brittany" maybe she's one of the stupid ones, "I-I uhh... sorry" her shock is still obvious.
"Well could you please move?"
"... I can't"
"What?!" I can see the little stares from passes by, I can feel their eyes on me.
"It's a long story-"
"I have time" I spit, though I don't.
"But I don't" she replies finally standing up for herself, "and if you don't mind I have to get back to my business" maybe she's not that stupid after all.
"Excuse me?!"
"I said, I have work to do so can you please leave?"
My mouth helplessly falls agape and the colour drains from my face, bitch. "No you can't stay here, that's my business and you're blocking it"
"It's a free country" she smirks, "not on my path"
"It's not your path"
I pause unsure of my next sentence, "... I have been here for over three years, now do us all a favour and pack it" it's probably not a good idea to shout publicly opposite my restraunt though I can't help it.
She stops again but still smiles, "I'm sorry but no"
What the fuck just happened? through the red rage in my eyes I swivel on my heals and storm back into the building completely fuming. "San-"
"Not now Hailey!" I screech winding past her and holding my arm up, going straight for the spare stock cupboard I push through to the cool air. Once the door fully closes I stop dead in my tracks my mind still racing, the beads of sweat emerge from my skin and dribbld down my cheeks though they could be mistaken for tears, frustration is never an easy thing for me, anger pushes through and something crazy always happens.
...Something crazy always happens...