Page 79 of Resurrection
"What’s the point of having an older brother?" Naomi grumbled frustratedly, wiping one of the fryers.
"Let me." I grabbed the towel from her and rubbed the steel surface.
"It’s okay, Ty. Just do your restocking."
"You do it." I nudged her gently toward the plates and napkins that needed to be replenished.
That’s when I saw the production dude approaching the window.
Jose immediately jumped forward.
"Just two extra-large horchatas." He handed Jose some money.
"Coming right up, sir."
Naomi and I dropped what we were doing and rushed to fill up the cups with the drink.
"Don’t put the lid on yet," she instructed me, fumbling with containers on the top shelf where we kept the sweets and aromatics. She snagged a cinnamon shaker, then grabbed a spice that looked like miniature stars. Each drink got its twist of magic.
"Ay,mija," Jose whispered under his breath. "Why did you put in star anise? That stuff’s pricey."
"They paid a lot of money for that dinner, Dad," she replied with a smile and gestured for me to snap the lids on the drinks.
Even at seventeen, Naomi Medina was a menace in the kitchen.
The production guy picked up his drinks. He looked up, his eyes first on Jose, then on Naomi, then back on Jose. "Your kid?" he asked the man. "Food arrangement is very original."
"My daughter." Jose nodded. "And yes, we sure do have artistic presentation." He beamed with pride. "You know, high school girls love things pretty."
The production guy offered a smile. "Professional quality."
"We do our best."
He put down the cups on the counter and fished out a business card from the inner pocket of his jacket, then handed it to Jose. "If your daughter ever wants to be on TV." He paused, letting Jose review the information on the card. "My production company is developing a cooking show for a celebrity chef. I’m always on the lookout for new talent. Give me a call if you're interested in more details."
Letty and Jose momentarily froze, their faces painted with surprise.
Naomi stood beside me, her expression mirroring theirs—eyes wide like saucers, mouth slightly agape.
Jose finally broke the silence by scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. "My daughter’s only seventeen."
"No worries. It’s all above board. Parents are welcome to be on set. Anyone under eighteen needs a chaperone anyway," the producer assured, turning his focus on Naomi like a spotlight shifting its beam. "You've got talent with food, young lady. Keep it up; you're destined for big things."
He gathered up his drinks with practiced ease, tossing us one last lookbefore leaving. Over his shoulder, he threw out casually, "Worst case scenario? You don’t pass the audition, but you get three weeks on our dime in the cooking camp." He winked and strode off to the rest of his evening.
22NAOMI
The kitchen isa different animal at night. It sheds its chaos like a skin, humming in quiet contentment now that the rush is over.
I stand there, contemplating as I run my fingers over the fresh herbs. Next to me, Sonia flips through some invoices, her pen tapping rhythmically.
"I think we need to double the aromatics next time," she comments. "You know how it is when the weather gets warmer."
"Sounds good," I agree. "But let’s really watch it. Remember how we overdid it with avocados during the holidays? You know how much I hate wasting both food and money."
"I got you, chef." Sonia taps my shoulder with her pen.
"I’ll fire you if you call me that again, especially when no one’s here."
