It's the most wonderful time of year... Isn't it?
Alexandria had to admit, even with her abrasive attitude and true gruffness, the holidays always got to her. She wasn't religious per se. What kinda god would make Gotham? Yet, she couldn't help the feeling she had seeing the snow, and lights, and trees, and the drunk Santa slurring out for donations before he puked in the little red bucket. It warmed the cockles of her shriveled heart. Her ratty coat did little to stave off the cold. The heat of the kitchen would help though. As she approached her diner, she saw a line was already forming. The local goons and assholes ready for hot coffee and a good meal. Her boys would already be inside, prepping for today. With their help, her usual method of a daily menu had changed. Now there was room for a few set items. As Alexandria reached the door, key in hand, her customers seemed to perk up if only a fraction. Tired greetings and halfhearted good mornings met with the slight squeak of the hinge as the door opened, beckoning the crowd inside. Gary was already at the counter, four pots of coffee hot and waiting, with a thermos sitting on the counter. It was old and rusted, dented and missing its lid, but its was hers. Her shitty little coffee cup in a shitty little corner of town. It was as close to Heaven as Alexandria allowed herself to believe in.
"Good morning, Chef." Marcus called from the window to the kitchen, Gary echoing his statement in between taking orders. Alexandria walked through the swinging door into her wonderland.
"Morning Marcus, morning Kyle." Walking into her office she set her coffee down and went through some paper work. Breakfast would be okay without her. There was a light blinking on the restaurant phone, indicating a voice message. Putting it on speaker she began booting up her computer, listening to the rich masculine tone.
'Good Morning, I wish to speak with a Miss Fox about catering a dinner party in two weeks time on December 18. If possible please contact 555-896-0300. Thank you.'
A catering opportunity wouldn't be too bad if the pay was okay. Taking a sip of coffee, she dialed the number, waiting patiently as she could. After the third ring she got an answer.
'Good morning, Wayne speaking.' Alexandria nearly spat her coffee out.
"Uhh... Hi, uh, This is Alexandria Fox, umm... Owner of Hodge Podge?"
'Ah, Miss Fox! Hello! My son speaks highly of you.'
"Your son?" The chef felt a chill down her spine.
'Yes, Damien. He has been hassling my butler out of the kitchen, trying to perfect the recipe for baklava you gave him.' Alexandria tried rap her head around the fact she was on the phone with Bruce Wayne. Richest man in Gotham. Father of Smokebomb. This was waaaay above her pay grade. 'I do apologize for not introducing myself when you were at my home, I had quite a bit of work to do.'
"Mr. Wayne, I don't think I'll be able to cater for you. It's only myself and three other people."
'I don't mind hiring extra staff, I know I'll need servers as well.'
"Don't you think whatever party you're hosting would like something more high class?" Alexandria heard a deep chuckle over the line.
'I could see where you'd think that, but I'm hoping to keep things a bit more low key. Something more down to Earth.' The mans voice dipped to a more quiet tone, as if to share a secret. 'Plus I get tired of the pretentious food myself.'
Alexandria couldn't help but roll her eyes. Yeah, sure. Richest man in Gotham gets tired of Cavier and A-5 beef.
"Look, I don't know about this. Smokebombs little Thanksgiving stunt was one thing, but this is..." The Chef ran a hand through her hair, trying to not make a complete ass of herself.
'Why don't you stop by the manor? We can hammer out details and then you can decide. Plus I can finally meet the woman my sons seems enamored with.' Alexandria felt her face heat up, whether from embarrassment or frustration she couldn't tell.
"Okay. Today at 8." There was no room for debate.
'I'll have Alfred pick you up. I look forward to meeting you. Have a good day.' Alexandria gave halfhearted response before hanging up. She tossed the phone aside before grabbing her coffee. In the quiet of the diner floor, her customers startled at the sound of a loud yell from the back of the kitchen.
It close to the end of morning close, when the diner would close for its daily prep hours. Alexandria was sitting on the cashier counter surrounded by her customers and staff. Coffee was flowing into her cup, poured by a thug not affiliated with any Rogue. Marcus placed a plate with a lemon scone next to her.
"Come on Momma Chef, you gotta do it." One man said, pouring something from his flask into her coffee, before taking a swig for himself.
"And steal some silverware before you leave, I can fence that for you." Deker grinned as someone smacked the back of his head.
"Look, I'm proud of my food. I don't think I could handle those pretentious assholes all high and mighty because I made corn on the cob instead of some creamed corn bullshit." The chef scowled as she took a bite of the scone. "I'm not about to change what I cook because of a fancy dinner party." Crumbs flew out of her mouth and she punctuated her words. Scowling, she brushed the crumbs from her apron.
"Then don't." Tazer said from his seat on the ground. Alexandria looked down at him, cocking a brow.
"Please, this is a WAYNE dinner. Foie gras and gold dust. Champagne and diamonds."
"Dammit Momma Chef, don't you get it. He called for your food. Your cooking. Its not those Glitzies up in the penthouses that called." Alexandria had to admit... He did have a point. Tazer grinned before tossing a chunk of scrambled eggs in the air, catching it in his mouth. "Besides, if they say a word, point. We'll handle the rest."
Alexandria smirked at that, not doubting they would. The chef looked around her, and the odd, almost friends surrounding her. She took a sip of her coffee.
"I'm not dressing up."
A black, unmarked town car with black tinted windows pulled up to her diner just as she was locking up. Her boys stood close to her, as if to offer protection, even though she knew she didn't need it. She handed Marcus her keys.
"I have a feeling I'm gonna be sleeping in after tonight." Marcus raised a brow teasingly, to which Alexandria punched his shoulder, causing him to laugh. "Kyle, delivery is tomorrow, double check before you sign. Gary, run by the bank and make change, we're almost out of quarters and nickels." Her boys nodded before going off to their respective hovels. Marcus placed a hand on her shoulder encouragingly before walking off to catch up with them. Turning to the car, she saw Smokebomb's, Bruce Wayne's, butler already at the back door.
"Miss Fox, a pleasure to see you again." He opened the door for her. Alexandria eyed it warily.
"Yeah, likewise." The chef ran a hand through her bangs, grasping her head from the back. "Can I ride in the front?" The butler cocked a brow before smiling.
"Of course, Miss." he shut the door and moved to open the front.
"Nah, I got it." Alexandria said, as she nearly rushed it. The butler merely smiled that secretive smile of his, nodding as he made his way round to the drivers side. Alexandria slid into the front seat of the immaculate, spacious care. It still had the new car smell. The chef fought a scoff, because of course the richest man in Gotham bought a brand new car, he probably bought a new one a week. Alfred closed his door, buckling his seat belt and began the drive to Wayne Manor. It was silent for ten minutes, the chef looking at the buildings passing by, getting taller, and more well kept, the people transforming from dark clothes and hunched hidden faces, to bright colours and raised noses. It almost made her sick. Alfred, ever the perceptual man, noticed the scowl on her face, the tenseness in her body.
"He can't seem to get the recipe right." His soft voice still startled her enough out of her thoughts to make her jump.
"What?" Alfred smiled at what most would perceive as lacking manners.
"Young Master Wayne has been trying to recreate your recipe for baklava and seems convinced you wrote the recipe wrong, since his attempts have not compared to yours." Alexandria took a moment to process before she chuffed.
"I did." Alfred raised a brow.
"Oh?" It wasn't accusatory, merely questioning.
"Much like a magician, a chef never reveals everything. I gotta keep my recipes my own, or people will just be bake to make it from scratch. I'd lose business." The chef shrugged her shoulders. "Besides, when we we're back in your kitchen he was trying to change the recipe anyway. Little shit." The last line was grumbled to herself, but the butler heard and laughed.
"Ah yes, he can be difficult sometimes, but I think he likes to agitate you."
"Yeah, no kidding."
"You see, with him being Master Wayne's son, people tend to treat him... differently. You haven't" Alfred looked out the corner of his eyes briefly. "I believe he finds your lack of propriety refreshing, as do I. Sometimes people need a reminder they are not the center of the world." Alexandria didn't seem to notice the laxing of her shoulders, though Alfred did.
"So, he gives me shit, because I give him shit?"
"I would say a good, swift kick in the arse." Alexandria sputtered a laugh, looking to the butler slyly.
"Hey, aren't butlers supposed to not bad mouth their employers?"
"You've obviously never heard of maid gossiping." Alexandria rolled her eyes.
"Let me tell you about waitress gossiping." As the blonde began her small tirade, Alfred smiled. She would be perfect.
Wayne Manor was still a large imposing structure, even more so now that she was here for business. Damien was outside the front door, watching with hawk like focus as she opened the front door. As younger Wayne began to make his way down the stairs he took in her appearance. She still hand her work attire on. The smell of sweat and spices still on her and stains on the apron around her waist. The only thing that was composed about the chef was her scowl and her hair pulled back into a sloppy bun, as if she just put it up. It made him relieved to see she wasn't trying to impress his father, as so many other women would.
"Lady Chef." It was a simple greeting, and even with the scoff she gave, he could see an appreciation in her eyes. Alexandria tapped his head with her knuckles, a light knocking notion.
"Kid, I'm no lady."
"And I am no child. Father is awaiting you in the foyer." Damien turned back, making his way back up, the chef following.
"What, you gonna be my escort or something?" Alfred, for his age, speedily made his way to the door, composed as any butler.
"I have studies to attend to. I merely wished to see you before hand. I have questions for you about the recipe you gifted me, but those will have to wait." Alfred opened the door for the two allowing them to walk into the brightly lit home. Standing in a well styled polo and khakis was the one and only Bruce Wayne. Damien sent a glare to his Father, a challenge and warning all at once, before walking past. Alexandria raised a hand in greeting.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne." The billionaire gave charming smile, perfect teeth all in a row, walking forward with his hand extended. Alexandria reciprocated gripping firmly as she shook.
"That's quite a handshake Miss. I'm happy you were able to stop by, I hope we can reach an agreement on the event." The chef barely held back a grimace. "Shall we head to my office? Or would the living room be more comfortable?"
"I'd rather be in a kitchen Mr. Wayne."
"Please call me Bruce, I insist." Alexandria crossed her arms, walking towards where she remembered the kitchen.
"No, Mr. Wayne. Not to be rude, but this is business, we're not friends." Bruce raised his brows in shock, looking at his trusted butler. Alfred smiled serenely, following after the woman. The kitchen was as immaculate as ever, polished chrome and clean counters. Walking around the island counter she faced the elder Wayne as he took a seat in a stool. "What is the event?" straight to the point.
"It's, ah, it's a fund raiser for local homeless shelters, in hopes of procuring enough funds to supply more bed, clothes, food, medicine and career training services."
"What kind of food were you hoping for? As I already stated that I don't do high cuisine." the chef cocked her hip, placing her hands on the counter. Bruce took notice of the small scares littering her fingers.
"I was kind of hoping for something more traditional. More family style, sit down, chat, eat." The chef cocked a brow.
"You want the Glitzies to serve themselves like their one big happy family while they gossip behind each others back?" The chef began to laugh loudly, not the least bit mollified at her indirect insult. Bruce tried not to frown. "Where are you going to be holding it?"
"Well I was thinking of my pent house uptown, but I don't think the kitchen there will be fitted well enough." For a moment the chef thought to herself.
"If I were to do this, and I'm not saying I am, but why not do it here?" Bruce raised his own brow. "You have the space for one, deck these halls and you've got a Hallmark worthy scene. Plus inviting people into your own home gives you a home field advantage."
"That's a good idea, actually..." Bruce rubbed his jaw as he saw a light take over the blondes eyes.
"You could do a round table, multiple dishes set out for everyone to make their plates. Spice ham, glazed carrots,..." The chef began to ramble off softly to herself, pacing along the bar. Bruce noticed how her eyes weren't really focus on anything.
"Do you think you could be my chef for the event?" Alexandria looked to the billionaire, and for a few moments thought deeply. She didn't have the same soul deep stare that Damien, but her almost apathetic gaze made for an uncomfortable experience.
"I'm not good with people, I will get angry if you come near my kitchen while I'm cooking."
"I will do my best to stay out of your way."
"I'm bringing my boys." Bruce stiffened up.
"You have children?"
"What? Fuck no!" Alexandria crossed her arms, "The only kid in my life is Smokebomb. My employees are my boys."
"Oh! Well of course."
"I'm not gonna go cheap, just because this is a charity event."
"I wouldn't expect you to." The chef held her hand out, which Bruce gripped and shook.
"Pleasure doing business with you."
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Yep. Hi. Happy Halloween. So, yeah. Hope you enjoy.