Page 66 of Made to Love Ya

“So, you’re thinking to do what with the contests?” Asante asked after I finished my spiel.

“The contests will be open to the magazine’s readers. They will submit recipes quarterly when the submissions are open, and they will have a specific deadline to have them in by. We will narrow it down to four finalists and invite them into the studio space to cook their recipes live. We can air it on the magazine’s YouTube channel and have people vote. The winner will have their recipe featured the next quarter, write a feature article, and win a six-month internship with Chef Caesar at Pearls & Swine in Atlanta.”

“Wow. He’s a world-renowned chef,” Kenyatta stated.

I nodded.

“He has twenty-three Michelin stars, and the restaurant has won the James Beard award on five different occasions,” Asante remarked, impressed.

“Exactly. I trained under Chef Caesar and became his sous chef until I returned home.”

“Why would you give up a dream job of working under someone like Chef Caesar?” Kenyatta asked in confusion.

“My life had other plans for me,” I stated simply.

I refused to discuss my private life or allow that to impact my job opportunities here at the magazine or anywhere else.

“So, your sole focus has been your online column?” Asante asked.

“Yes.”

“You’ve had great success with that blog. You’re one of the major influencers in the foodie world for people aged sixteen to thirty-eight. That’s a big population. Why would you want to write for our magazine?” Kenyatta asked.

“To expand my reach and to influence the food world differently, not just sharing my opinions about restaurant experiences, food, and hospitality but also using my reach to open doors for others. Hence, the contests.”

Both ladies nodded. I watched as they put their heads together and whispered for a few seconds before they turned back to me.

“Talia, we initially were hesitant about offering you the position because all of our other applicants have a degree in journalism, communications, English, or some other related field. You don’t have any of those. You also didn’t attend a four-year university, but that’s not a bad thing. Why should we offer you this position?” Asante asked.

“Listen,” I started as I leaned forward and clasped my hands together on the table. “I can spend years in a university, but that would be a waste of time. Those universities cannot instill the natural gifts I have inside of me for teaching, cooking, and inventing. They cannot teach me creativity. Those are things that are inherent in me, and they cannot be enhanced through attending school. I skipped a grade because of my academic intelligence. I didn’t need any more schooling to strengthen what I was already passionate about.

“I needed real-world experience, which was why I went to school at Archambeau Culinary Institute for two years and quickly gained a six-week externship at Pearls & Swine. Learning under Chef David Archambeau was an experience that was only enhanced by Chef Caesar. I gained things under their tutelage that no school could teach me. This is what I want to bring to your magazine and your readers. I want to share my passion for cooking with them in hopes that I will open their minds to revolutionary ideas and prepare the next generation of chefs. Can I do it through my blog? Absolutely, but you have a different audience that I would like to reach.”

They put their heads together and whispered again. Finally, they turned to face me.

“We would like to offer you the position…How does this sound to you?” Asante asked as she wrote something on a strip of paper and then slid it across the table to me.

I stared at it, did some minor calculations in my mind, and then I scratched out her number. I wrote a new number and slid it back to her. Asante lifted her eyebrows, showed it to Kenyatta, and then turned back to me.

“Okay. It’s a deal,” Asante stated and stood.

I stood and shook hands with both ladies. “We’ve already had HR put together a packet for you. Kenyatta can walk you around there to grab the packet, and we’ll just have them change the number, Talia, then you can be on your way. Once we have everything finalized and signed back from you, we’ll get you started. I’m thinking four weeks from today. Does that work for you?”

I smiled. “That sounds like a plan to me,” I agreed.

My heart was light, and I was filled with joy. I couldn’t wait to call Izael and share the news with him. My light was only slightly dimmed by the knowledge that he wouldn’t be at my apartment waiting for me when I arrived.

Kenyatta walked me out as Asante left to see about a visitor waiting for her in her office.

“Are you excited?” Kenyatta asked.

“I’m surprised and excited. When you all called me back the other day, I was shocked. What made you all change your mind?” I asked. “I mean, my mama always said don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I am curious.”

Kenyatta shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just know that Asante told me that she changed her mind, and she wanted to reconsider your application. We looked it over again, and we both agreed again that you were the perfect fit,” she explained as we walked around the corner to the administrative offices.

“Oh, you thought so before?”

“Yes. But there were also other qualified candidates. We were torn between you and one other person.”

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