Page 4 of Jaasiel

“I figured I was guaranteed an audience with you this way. For the next one hundred and twenty minutes, I have your undivided attention, and enjoy your exquisite cooking.

“Well, I can’t give you all my attention. There will be eleven more people coming,” I tell her.

“Actually, you can give me all your attention, seeing that I bought all the seats for tonight’s dinner,” she says casually.

“You bought all twelve seats for tonight?” I ask, eyebrows climbing up on my forehead.

“I did. Can you think of a better way to have you all to myself and be able to eat your food?”

“Yeah, you could ask,” I tell her.

“All I had was your name, Jaasiel. You didn’t give me your phone number,”

“That’s fair,” I tell her. “Well, you bought twelve steaks. Do you want me to wrap them for you? Or I can cook all of them for you. After all, you own them now.”

“There is no way I could eat twelve ten-ounce steaks; besides I detest waste. Give them to your staff, if that’s okay?”

“Like I said, you own them,” I tell her.

“Okay, good, then let them have them. If they were chosen to be here with you to cook tonight, I am sure they deserve them.”

“That is very generous of you. Will you give me a moment, and we’ll start tonight’s dinner.” Heading to where my staff is waiting for me.

“You guys can go on home. Parker is our only guest tonight. Tomorrow night we will host two people of your choosing, and you will cook the steaks for them. Email me who you would like to come. I am sorry tonight did not go as planned, but I will figure something else out for you guys,” I say. “And make sure you stop by the restaurant to grab your meals before you go home. I will email you all in the morning.” I noticed Praise looked relieved when I announced that they would not have to cook tonight and even more excited when I told them to grab their meals from the restaurant. The majority of the time we eat what we cook, and they are guaranteed to eat, but since tonight was a special meal, I arranged a take-home meal for them. I look at her a little bit longer and notice the dark circles under her eyes, worn-out clothes and shoes, and her wary expression. After I take care of whatever this is tonight, I am going to take a deeper look into Praise. She is one of my best students. If I can get her to harness her talents, she will be more talented than I am. A lot of times she lets emotions get the best of her. I watch as they gather their belongings and head out, but a few seconds later, I feel a tap on my arm. I was so engrossed in looking at Parker that I didn’t even notice Praise hadn’t left like I assumed she did.

“Chef,” she mumbles out.

“Yes, Praise,” I look down at the young woman small enough to be mistaken for a child except for the look in her eyes.

“Can I skip tomorrow night’s meal?” she asks, a hopeful look in her eyes.

“Why would you want to skip?”

Releasing a deep breath, she cuts her eyes towards Parker, lowering her voice to an almost whisper. “I, I don’t have anyone to bring. I don’t have any family here.”

Little alarm bells are going off somewhere in the recesses of my mind, but I cannot figure out why. “I want you to get the experience of cooking meat of this caliber, so I tell you what, I will invite some of my family for you, okay? They will be your guests.” I offer as a solution.

“Chef, no! Your family? I couldn’t! I would be too nervous.”

“I promise you they will not make you nervous. I will invite them, you come early to meet them, and if you feel like you still can’t do it, you can leave, and I’ll cook for them. Deal?”

“I guess.”

“You are going to have to get used to cooking for people who make you nervous. You have the talent, Praise, you just have to focus on it,” I repeat the same thing I have been telling her. I really want her to take this opportunity because if she leaves tomorrow night, she will fail her final exam.

“Yes, Chef,” she says dejectedly.

“Good night, Praise.”

“Good night, Chef,” she crosses the threshold of the door, allowing me to close and lock it behind her. “Sorry about that. I apologize for making you wait.”

“It’s all good. After all I threw your night off with my surprise takeover,” she says, her eyes tracking my every move.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” I say, slipping on my apron as I head to the sink to wash my hands.

“Yes, let’s,” she replies.

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