It seems my school life just can't let me go, eh? No wonder it's impossible to get a chapter up in a week these days! With my upcoming projects, now we're back to monthly updates again...
DaX0315, StRAngE ToASt, darkwolf0909, Udo von Teschen, and TheGreatMightyPoo, you'll all get a serving of Martine's LaBrie, Tamato, and Aspear salad. Enjoy!
Chapter fifty-three: Chef Bordeaux
Last night was anything but restful.
The fact the hotel room had no chairs or sofas meant that Steven and Cynthia had to share the same bed. For the most part, it was about watching each other and seeing if the other would do something remotely suspicious. This was kept up so long, that by the time they could get sleep, dawn had broken over Lumiose City.
They didn't even shower!
So by the time they showed up at the lobby to meet Diantha and Wallace, Wallace was first to remark on their state.
"I'm sure you had a restful night, you two?" he said. "Good! Because we must meet the chef today! Make sure you look good!" Such remarks made Diantha would have made her shake her head in shame, but Wallace had a point. For someone like Siebold's mentor, it would be best to be presentable. However, there was no time to shower.
Siebold was already at the lobby waiting for them to move. He was dressed in his chef's attire already, as was such his typical Elite Four appearance.
"You two look like a mess," he said. "Oh well. The time won't wait. My mentor would like to see you and discuss the terms of the competition."
The front of the hotel was relatively quiet, given the lack of media attention. As Steven and Cynthia made their way together to outside, Cynthia suspected that the meeting with Siebold's mentor was private. No one would need to know the details about the meeting, and if anything, that was what Viola and Alexa were for.
Diantha, wearing sunglasses, accompanied them to one of the two taxis that would transport them. Unsurprisingly, Steven and Cynthia chose to sit in separate taxis, so it was up to Diantha, Siebold, Cilan, and Wallace to decide who to join who. Whilst Wallace joined Steven, unsurprisingly, Diantha, Siebold, and Cilan joined Cynthia.
The ride was a silent one for Cynthia. Diantha could notice her only staring plainly out the window like she was tired. Then again, Cynthia looked in bad shape.
"How are you feeling?" Diantha asked.
"Tired," Cynthia replied.
The taxi continued making its way through several blocks of Lumiose City. Thankfully, it was driving fast enough that no one had bothered peeking at who was inside. Even so, the people were too busy with their own errands, whether they were working at a Poké Mart or enjoying a cup of coffee with a Lumiose Galette on the side. The sweet smell of both flavours wafted to Cynthia's nose.
"And how was last night? Now, I know you didn't want to share a room with him, but it couldn't be helped. Wallace did the best he could."
Siebold and Cilan wore suppressed smiles as Cynthia scoffed. They wouldn't want to guess what Cynthia was thinking right now, but in light of all that had happened, what could she be thinking?
She really felt like punching Wallace right now after what ordeal he had put her through. As a result, she couldn't get a wink of sleep! She could not imagine how tonight would turn out, especially when she and Steven had covered their room in lots of tape.
The taxi turned around the corner and Cynthia found herself in the presence of the famed Hotel Richissime – the headquarters of the most acclaimed critics in the culinary world. No surprise that Chef Bordeaux's restaurant was located across the street. If there were guests rich enough to stay at the hotel, they might as well treat themselves to one of the best restaurants in the city.
Chef André Bordeaux stood waiting for Steven and Cynthia to arrive. He certainly looked older, and more experienced, than Steven or Cynthia could ever be (let alone Siebold). In addition to the restaurant chef jacket he wore, he also sported a thin short beard that suggested he was good at his job. That and his brown hair, of course.
"Bienvenue," he greeted them. "Siebold, nice to see you again."
"You too, chef," Siebold returned the greeting. "Glad to be back."
Steven and Cynthia each politely shook hands with Bordeaux before discreetly entering the restaurant. It was not open for lunch hours yet, which gave plenty of time for discussion. In the meantime, the restaurant would under preparation work for lunch.
The chefs, judges, Diantha, and Wallace gathered at one of the larger dining tables. Bordeaux took the head seat, with the others sitting at the sides.
"I understand that you two have yet to discuss the outcome of your competition," he said. "But we'll talk about that later. You'll be happy to hear that we have secured an appropriate venue for your use. So you needn't worry about that."
"Are we using your restaurant?" Steven asked.
"Afraid not," Bordeaux replied. "My restaurant can't handle hosting a competition like yours with so many customers to attend to! No, I've arranged with Mademoiselle Diantha and Wallace to have Clemont, the Gym Leader here, to host at his gym. Will that do?"
Cynthia and Steven made eye contact, and their expressions suggested they had the same question in mind. Cynthia spoke first.
"I'm sorry, but where is his gym?"
"At the Prism Tower, in the centre ville," Bordeaux said. "You would recognise it as Lumiose City's landmark, but it plays host to the local gym. Clemont has offered to clear out the space for your cook-off, so we're moving all the equipment we need up there now. You two will have time to familiarise yourselves with the equipment, along with the pantry I'm supplying, so rest assured you're in good hands. Siebold is overseeing the process personally."
Wallace cleared his throat.
"Um… shall we talk about the terms? That's what we're here for," Wallace said.
Bordeaux took out a notepad. "I've heard that you two are in the fight for a Richissime Star, is that correct? Now, while I have no authority to award stars, I have contacts at Hotel Richissime who would be happy to attend the cook-off. They can send critics to your restaurants afterward, so that will be as close to awarding the stars as I can."
He went on. "However, this doesn't mean that you yourselves will be on the end of being rated by critics who will also attend the cook-off. Clemont is already doing the promotions, so we've got that covered."
Wallace cleared his throat again.
"I think we can raise the stakes," he added playfully. "What if one restaurant has to be controlled by the other one just for a week? That will shame the dominated restaurant!"
"I hardly think that's professional," Bordeaux cut in shortly, his eyes remaining focused but slightly annoyed at Wallace's suggestion. Steven almost smiled. So even the best and most experienced of chefs can be turned off by his flamboyant friend.
Even so, there could be alternatives.
Steven raised his hand briefly to get the others' attention. "I think it would be more useful if the loser's restaurant gets to close for a week. That way, the winner can revel in more success, and it's not like the loser has much to lose after."
Something in Cynthia's chest tightened at the mention of that proposal. Was he simply saying that the winner could fight for a better market share? It had to be, but she kept quite over that. Then again, would he be impressed if she won? If she won, he would have no excuse to not visit her.
"I don't think–" Bordeaux started.
"I'm fine with it," Cynthia said flatly. "No, wait, I endorse it."
A lot of eyebrows rose at Cynthia's direct response, not including Steven's. Bordeaux, who made some neat notes on his notepad, looked just as cool as ever. There was a moment of silence, as the gears in Bordeaux's mind turned like he actually would consider the proposal. The fact that he didn't reject it outright perhaps gave the possibility.
He looked to Cilan and then Siebold. "What do you think?"
"It's unconventional," Cilan said.
"If they're both okay with it, I don't see why not," Siebold added, unsure whether it would be wise to object to a rare agreement between the two former Champions. Plus, his mentor had no objections, so what was the harm?
The next half hour was spent drawing up a binding contract (again, Wallace's idea) that Steven and Cynthia had to sign. Neither Bordeaux nor the others believed that this would work, nor could it be enforced, but Wallace threatened to make the arrangements publicly known. If public shaming wasn't enough, he could take it further (in which Steven questioned if that was even legal). Steven and Cynthia signed the contract, anyway.
Questions were asked about the theme ingredients they would be using, but Bordeaux said those details would be revealed. He, Cilan, and Siebold conferred to have them known no later than tomorrow. Given there were a few days before the cook-off, this would leave time for Steven and Cynthia to prepare what to make.
A lot of details were discussed for the next two hours, including the scoring format. The judges would vote on their preferred dish each round to determine the winner. Plus, the chefs would be timed too. But as Bordeaux understood things, Steven and Cynthia probably wouldn't even need to use up the time limit. Plus, this wasn't a test of pressure, but of taste.
Apart from the scoring format, the trivial things, like media coverage, press conferences, or escorting everyone to the venue, had been taken care of too. Clemont had been reached through phone call, and he made the arrangements to when and where everyone would arrive. The scheduling, of course, would have to be arranged depending on how many days the cook-off would take. Clemont had made conditions, however, that the cook-off shouldn't take too long. Otherwise, Trainers wouldn't be able to challenge him.
With much of everything settled, Steven and Cynthia walked out of Chef Bordeaux's restaurant together. They kept quiet, with their thoughts on what would happen tonight. No doubt would they have to spend the night together again, given the amount of media attention they were getting. It was a miracle that no one had said anything about the arrangement in public.
Steven's phone rang, which caught Cynthia's attention.
"Bonjour," Steven said. "Oh! How are you doing?"
That light tone Steven had. Who was he talking to? Some friend of his? Or could it be someone from his workplace? No, Steven wouldn't react this friendly to his co-workers. No, it had to be a girl.
Astrid. Probably.
"Excuse me," Steven muttered into the phone, before looking to Cynthia. His expression suggested he was already suspicious. "Is something the matter?"
"No," Cynthia said flatly.
He had been talking on the phone from that point until he got into the arranged taxi. Cynthia watched him get in, where by then Steven had hung up and was wearing a smile as he left. Smiling! How often did he smile like that?! If Cynthia could hazard a guess, he might even have been laughing.
She got into the taxi which took her through the streets of Lumiose City, past the media who were hot on her tracks, and watched the cityscape. Many cafés passed by as her taxi continued its journey behind Steven's taxi. However, there was no way Cynthia could recognise anything in Lumiose City at this time. The city was too big, crowded, and the only thing that was memorable was the Prism Tower itself. If not for the Prism Tower, or the taxi, Cynthia probably would have gotten lost.
The taxi passed by a marketplace, which got her thinking about dinner. Come to think of it, it was getting dark already. Had she been talking with Chef Bordeaux that long?
"Oh! Arrêtez ici, s'il vous plait!" Cynthia shouted. "J'ai besoin d'une minute."
The taxi stopped immediately so she could get off. She assured the taxi driver that she would be back soon, and at that she put on a pair of sunglasses before wander in.
So this is how Diantha would feel, Cynthia thought. She was not a celebrity, nor did she try to be. Even in her Champion days in Sinnoh, she could easily pass off as a local and draw little attention to herself in public. But in Kalos, things seemed to work differently. Now, she was being the target of almost anyone who had seen what the media had published (and who didn't?!). No wonder Diantha wore sunglasses everywhere! Even so, would it be too much to ask to even shop for groceries in public?
"Let's see…" Cynthia muttered, picking up a shopping basket and browsing for food. Deciding what to make and eat wasn't daunting, but it required some effort. Of course, if she had strict preferences, it would be easier.
Shopping took time, but thankfully, the store was quiet and close to closing. Cynthia bought just enough to make a satisfying dinner, while at the same time keeping a modest budget. Puff pastry, LaBrie cheese, a small bottle of vinegar, spinach, and some Tamato berries – Cynthia was set. While she was at it, she could make some Leppa berry pies with the spare puff pastry she had, so she bought a handful of the Leppa berries.
Eventually, after paying for her groceries and getting back into the taxi, Cynthia found herself back at the boutique hotel. Given the time of night, when the cafés and restaurants truly came to life and serving countless customers, it was easier to slip into the hotel. She carried her paper bag full of groceries to her room, where she unlocked the door.
"Don't cross the lines!" Steven's voice shouted from the kitchen.
On instinct, Cynthia stopped dead where she was. From the looks of things, there was blue tape and red tape… everywhere. It appeared Steven had stuck blue tape everywhere on the floor to make it look like a maze on one hand, and a floor plan on the other.
"What? So where am I supposed to step, huh?!" Cynthia shouted. "I need a place to put down my groceries!"
"Wherever there's red tape, it's yours!" Steven shouted back.
Huffing loudly, Cynthia tiptoed past through her section of space to the kitchen. Now, while there were areas on the floor that were 'public' between them, the areas near the appliances were separated with blue and red tape. Why, even the stove was separated in half by a strip of blue tape and red tape on each side.
By the time she put down her groceries in her section of table, she then realised that Steven had been cooking. He was preparing a tasty blend of Chevroum cheese, which originated from the local Gogoat, with zucchini, spinach, and mushrooms. He also had a pie crust set aside, in which he poured the blend into, and subsequently into the oven.
"Alright. The kitchen is yours," Steven gave Cynthia an annoyed stare before walking away. "I'll be back soon, and don't sabotage my quiche."
"Did you rig any of the appliances?" Cynthia retorted. She unloaded her groceries and got to cooking within the sections cordoned by red tape, of course. She prepared what she needed to build her dinner, first wrapping chunks of LaBrie with the puff pastry and then setting them on a baking tray. As she placed it into the oven, sideways so it would stay on her half, she caught a huge whiff of the aroma from Steven's quiche. It made her mouth water, but she pushed her thoughts aside and went to prepare the rest of her ingredients, and also her planned dessert.
Out of respect for her own wishes, she kept within her red tape boundaries. Otherwise, Steven would really explode.
I would have served you what Steven and Cynthia were about to cook, but they haven't cooked anything yet...
