Chapter 10

ELENA's POV

Three days passed, and the training continued as usual, with me as the trainer and Oswin as the trainee. It was harsh, but it was simply out of a professional manner. That was what I told myself. I was set on making my students master the art of waitressing, becoming the best waiter the world had ever seen. However, I knew deep down I was enjoying a little revenge for the time that he had me running around the house like I was his personal servant.

But Oswin didn't need to know that, right?

Every day after and before I left for work, I passed on to him all the waiter skills I had learned over the years. I was surprised that he was such a fast learner. He passed all the tasks and tests I gave him in a short amount of time. So, his technical skill was ready to be set into the real world, but not his disposition.

"I lose appetite. It took too long, and I don't feel hungry anymore," I said, pushing the empty plate—which we pretended had food on it—away.

"How dare you say you don't want it? You clearly ordered this dish," He spoke in a furious voice, slapping the table and glaring at me with a look that felt like it could burn holes through my head.

"Oswin..." I sighed, rubbing my temples as the pounding headache throbbed in my head. "I told you already that this wasn't how we dealt with the problem. Sometimes, we meet this kind of customer who will make a fuss if the food takes too long."

"What does it have to do with me? It is their own problem to have such a short temper that they can't wait for their own food," he said, crossing his hand over his chest.

For someone whose temper was as short as The Planck Length, he had the audacity to blame others for their impatience. I thought to myself, my brow raised in amusement at his comment.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked with his brows furrowed.

I hurriedly brought the topic back to divert his attention if my expression was too obvious back then. "There are different types of customers, and I hate to say that not all of them are good. This is why I'm pretending to be that kind of customer to test you. I want to know how you will act in this situation," I said, letting out an inner sigh of relief when he stopped giving me a questioning look.

"How else will I act? It is simple. Just throw him out. He is such a jerk," he said in a tone laced with anger, his voice sharp and simmering with frustration.

I wondered if I could see smoke coming out of his nose if I were to concentrate harder.

"Oswin!" I shouted, standing up to my feet in a flash. "You cannot throw a customer out, no matter how grumpy they are. Remember. Customers are king."

"What?" He widened his eyes in ire. "They are not! I am the king!"

"How many times do I have to tell you? If you want this job, you must stop thinking of yourself as the king. Got it?" I warned him, leveling a glare at him while pointing my index finger his way.

"But—."

"NO, BUT." I interrupted him, stopping the argument. "I'm your trainer. Are you going to listen to me or not? Let me remind you of our agreement in case you forgot about it. You promised you would listen to all my guidance. You gave me your words."

We locked eyes, exchanging only intense, deadly glares, each filled with silent enmity. Thankfully, he was the one who gave in first.

"Fine," he huffed, slumping his shoulder in defeat.

It seemed the king was truly serious about keeping his word.

"Good." I nodded. "Now, what are those things that I have told you always to recite whenever you are in a crisis?"

"I'm not a king. I am a waiter," he said, recalling what I told him to recite whenever he was about to lose his temper.

"Yep. Make sure to always remember that," I said, choosing to ignore how his hands were clenched into fists and how his body was trembling in rage. "Whenever you are about to throw your royal tantrum, just recite this phrase as a mantra. Are we clear?"

He refused to reply, turning his face away with a huff that I found cute.

Wait. Did I just find him cute? I shook my head, brushing off what my brain was thinking a few seconds ago.

"Well, I will take that as a yes, then," I said, taking his silence as his way of agreeing. "Now, let's start over again from where you exit from the kitchen."

He turned on his heels and disappeared into the kitchen without a word. Once he was out of sight, I murmured, "Since I will be with him the whole time, I don't think his temper is the problem. If anything, I can deal with it. Now that he perfectly aces all the skills, I think it's time I talk to the boss about it."

The thought of talking to James about hiring Oswin made my stomach churn. Despite being his personal trainer in waitressing and acknowledging his accomplishments, I couldn't help but worry. I couldn't ignore the sensation that felt like a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach whenever the image of Oswin working in James' restaurant appeared in my head.

Even if I could somehow guarantee this elf king's temper, which I would monitor every minute, I couldn't say the same about the customer's temperament.

What if the first customer that walked through the door was a gangster? A mafia? Or, to put it simply, the most aggressive customer on Earth? Would Oswin be able to withstand it? I sighed as millions of worse scenarios were running through my head.

Later that night, while I was helping James close up the restaurant, I lost count of the many sighs escaping my mouth. All I asked for was for everything to go smoothly. I have been working in James' restaurant since I was sixteen years old. During these two years, I hadn't met any customers that were hard to deal with. So, it shouldn't be a problem, right?

Maybe I was just overthinking things.

"It wasn't like the rudest customer just dropped by on Oswin's first day of work, was it?" I murmured to myself, sighing for the umpteenth time.

"Elena, what's with the sigh?" James came up from behind and put his hand on my shoulder, making me jump. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He withdrew his hand and gave me an apologetic smile.

"It is okay, boss. I was just deep in thought," I replied, giving him a weak smile.

"Are you worried about him?" he asked.

"Yes, boss." I nodded. "It will be his first day tomorrow. I couldn't help but worry about everything."

"You are just paranoid," he chuckled, patting my shoulder lightly. "I already saw his skills. You've trained him well. You should be proud of him instead of getting worried."

"Thank you so much, boss, for agreeing to give him a job." I bowed with respect.

James' restaurant wasn't hiring at the moment due to its small size and a light crowd of customers; thus, the current number of employees was sufficient to handle it. Nevertheless, he still agreed to hire Oswin after hearing about my problem. I couldn't be more grateful.

"Stop bowing to me over everything, child. Now, get up," he said, patting my head. As soon as I stood up and our eyes met, he gave me a sympathetic gaze. "It's hard to believe that a young and handsome guy like him encountered such unfortunate events," he sighed, slightly shaking his head with a grim expression.

"Yes. It's sad, indeed." I gulped, trying my best to put on a sad face.

Guilt resurfaced as I thought back about how I had lied to my boss and took advantage of his generosity just to get this job for Oswin.

However, I pushed it away, consoling myself that it was necessary and that I had no other way to talk about Oswin's situation without sounding like a lunatic.

How I managed to convince James to hire our glorious elf king is a long story. But to put it simply, the story went like this...

.

.

.

<TO BE CONTINUED> 

A/N: I did a brief research on "the shortest thing in the world", and the answer is "The Planck length: The shortest possible thing in the physical world, according to current scientific understanding (context of context of quantum mechanics).