Chapter 9

9

KIARA'S POV

"I'm so sorry I came a little bit late," I apologize to my coworkers.

"You should be sorry if you appear a minute later. He is here," Jenny muttered to me.

Mr. Frank came in and walked around to survey the kitchen. No one is missing. He nods his head while moving around the kitchen with his hands behind him.

Soon he will be done with his morning routine. Orders started coming in.

My love for cooking has always been fueled by my love for produce. I knew I was a good cook, but somehow I wish that I had gone to college. Almost all my high school friends went to college; I feel like I'm the only one left out.

If I hadn't grown up with my grandma, or perhaps if I had grown up alone after the tragedy that befell my family, I don't know if I would be on the path I am today.

From a very young age, grandma would take me fishing. We will hike to the mountain top and fish in the deep fjord.

We would pick berries, mushrooms, and herbs. My favorite moment then was to stand in a chair and cool off alongside my grandma. She would make the main dish while I kept myself busy with my little nonsense.

As I grew older, my cooking skills improved significantly.I applied for a job at the Savante Hotel when I was just twenty and was accepted immediately. Literally, I have worked there for close to three years.

When I was sixteen, I went to a science school. I actually had to learn how to cook every day since my grandmother is getting more sick and tired. I cooked dinner at home once in a while with a decent result. But cooking dinner every day with little to no money and living on a student loan was a totally different game.

I quit school and decided to focus more on my cooking. Mila, my friend, whom I always see at the food shops and restaurants, taking pictures of food to boost her page, She found my cooking attractive the first time she came to my house, and I made a red sauce pasta for her.

She clicked the camera and snapped every side of the meal, and just from there, I started to cook for her to take pictures.

I also started watching a lot of cooking shows; my favorites were Top Chef and Master Chef Italy. I never missed turning on the television for this show at 12 p.m. and 5 p.m., respectively.Reading chef's books confidentially inspired me to try new things every day.

When I turned eighteen, things became more difficult for my grandmother. She is becoming weaker by the day, and I could clearly see that. I wanted to help out. to at least make her enjoy the life and happiness she had given me.

The plan was to find a job, save up some money for the course of a year, and get her a surprise package on her 80th birthday.

But there were few and far between jobs.My inability to finish school kept disqualifying me.

I had to give in to all kinds of menial jobs, but one night while reading a story, I thought to myself, "Why haven't I tried to become a chef?" "Why haven't I thought of that before?"

The next morning, I told Mila that, unfortunately, she wouldn't be taking pictures of my food since I would like to work as a chef.

I was so very startled when she jumped over to hug me. Screaming, "Finally. Finally," her red hair was all over my face.

"Finally what?"

"I have been waiting for ever for you to say this." Meanwhile, there is a vacancy in the hotel where I work; we need more chefs, so if you are interested,

"Of course I am," I screamed in joy. Even when I hadn't applied, I was confident that I would get the job.

Mila is working as a waitress at the Savante Hotel. I must say that her love for food got the better of her, because even though she is a college graduate, she still chose to become a waitress.

It's almost 6 p.m., the time we finish work every day. The big hotel also has a night-shift cook. They'd work from 6 p.m. to 8 a.m., followed by the day shift from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.I am glad I work a day shift. I can't afford to miss my cozy bed anymore.

I have so much sleep on my eyes, but I must visit Grandma at the hospital before taking a nap. It's already become a daily routine ever since she suddenly collapsed on a Saturday morning.

Her test result will be out today, and proper treatment will commence, but I'm still scared to believe that she had symptoms of cancer.

"You are off?"" Mila says, getting closer to me with her handbag on her right shoulder.

"No, I am in." I answer reluctantly. Seeing her reminds me of the previous night. I wish I could forget about it. It was a silly, youthful mistake. I'm glad that I didn't have sex with the stranger; if I did, I would be so worried about getting pregnant.

But then again, the bite—what if he's a vampire? a zombie or a beast, will I turn into one eventually? This creepy thought sent cold shivers down my spine.

"Are you still upset with me, Kiara?Come on! After all, I did you a favor by assisting you in your time of need, so it's time you told me what happened."It's you that fucked up the whole shit," Mila says, looking worriedly at me. Yes, I know I have you! It helps to have a friend like her.But I can't say that out loud. I won't want to lose her either. She had helped me a lot more than this.

"Let's just forget it and go back to being okay."

"Pinkie swear," she said, pointing with her small finger.I smirked upon seeing her funny looks.

"Alright, alright, pinkie swear." I curled mine around hers.