Taste

by Juliet Madison

  “It’s honestly the best mousse I’ve ever had.” I smiled.

  Leo’s face brightened. “For real?”

  I nodded. “Is there coconut cream in it?”

  He nodded and smiled. “Yes, I refrigerate the cans then only use the top layer of thick cream.”

  “It’s delicious.”

  “I haven’t tasted it yet—didn’t want to jinx it.” Leo dug his spoon in then wrapped his lips around it. A slow, deep, satisfied moan rose from deep in his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

  My heart palpitated, and I just wanted to grab him. My hormones were almost as excited as my taste buds. And there was also that excitement in my nerves that appeared any time one of our visions came true.

  “Sorry, but it is good, if I do say so myself,” he said.

  “Nothing wrong with a confident chef. If you’re not confident, then how can you expect the customers to be confident about eating your food?”

  Leo took my spoon and lay it next to his in the dish. “Very true.”

  What had happened to my dry-mouthed nerves? I was chatting like there was no tomorrow.

  “Well, thanks for your feedback.”

  “I feel honored to have been the first to taste it.”

  He smiled again, then checked his piece of paper. “Okay, Tamara, I’ll sort through these applications and let you know the outcome soon. Thanks for coming in.” He stood, and I followed. Before we headed back into the kitchen, he turned toward me. “Actually, I don’t need to. When can you start?”

  I almost fell over. “Start?”

  “You’re by far the best applicant. I’m happy to give you the job.”

  A warm rush rocketed through my body. “Really? Oh my God, thank you!” I felt like hugging him. But that wouldn’t be professional. And neither would jumping on him and kissing him, I supposed. “I can start anytime.”

  “Let’s make it Monday, since it’s not as busy, and we’ll run through the roles of the job and get you used to where everything is, and introduce you to the staff. Then I’ll work out a schedule for you for the next couple of weeks, and we’ll reassess after that. Four thirty okay as a starting time? After your orientation, you can start each shift at five.”

  I nodded so hard my head could have fallen off. “Yes. Sure. Four thirty. I’ll be here.”

  “Great. I’ll provide you with an apron to wear, so just wear smart casual clothing and closed-toed shoes.”

  “Deal.” I held out my hand. Deal? What was I doing, making some kind of bet?

  He shook it, and something shook inside me. His warm skin enveloped mine, and he held it in a firm grasp a moment longer than I expected. “See you then.”

  I thanked him and walked out of the kitchen with my head held high, like I was stepping into a new world. I had a job! In a kitchen! And I’d just touched Leo Pearce!

  I resisted the urge to wriggle in a victory dance. I would save that for home.

  As I went for the door, the old man held it open for me. Thankfully he’d survived his afternoon tea. “How’d it go, miss?”

  I grinned. “I got the job.”

  “Wonderful! Congratulations. It was the tip I gave you, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “The tip?”

  “The naked thing. It always works a treat.” He winked.

  The naked thing. Thankfully I had forgotten about it during the interview, but now? …Hmm. A treat indeed.

  Chapter 5

  I walked in the front door to see Talia sitting on the floor working on something. “What are you making?” I asked.

  “A meditation stone.”

  “A what?”

  She held up the small jade-colored stone. “I’m sanding it to smooth it out, and then I’m going to engrave some designs on it, maybe add some paint, and polish it up.”

  “In other words, it’s a pet rock,” said Savannah with a chuckle, snuggled beside Riley.

  “What about giving it a name?” he said. “Rocky?” He high fived Savannah, and Talia sighed.

  “It’s not a pet rock; it’s a meditation stone. I read about it online,” Talia explained. “You imprint it with your own energy and it retains your vibrational fingerprint.”

  I furrowed my brow. “So what is it used for?”

  “For maximizing the meditation experience and gaining insight. I thought it might help make our visions more detailed too, if I hold it or wear it somehow at the time.”

  “So it’s a magic pet rock?” Savvy chuckled again. “Sorry, just messing around. It sounds cool.”

  “It’s fun to make. I’m going to put the yin-yang symbol on it.”

  “Yin what?” I asked.

  “You haven’t heard of the Chinese symbol for balance and unity? Yin and yang?”

  “Ah, maybe.” She Googled it and showed me a picture. “Oh yeah, I have seen that.”

  “Hey how was your interview?” Riley asked. “Was my brother intimidating and boss-like?”

  I willed my cheeks not to blush. “Nah, it was good.”

  Riley gave a thumbs-up.

  I decided to tease them a bit. “I don’t know if I’ll get the job though—they had a lot of interest.”

  “You never know,” said Savvy. “When do you find out?”

  I shrugged. “Should be soon.” I was giggling on the inside. And soon, on the outside.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Savannah. “Is it my joke about the magic pet rock? That’s it, isn’t it.”

  “No, not that, sorry.” I waved my hand. “Oh, I can’t lie, I got the job!”

  Savvy stood. “You got it? And you didn’t barge through that door and shout it out to all of us?” She gave me a little shake. “Woohoo!”

  Talia gave me a round of applause.

  “You seem very excited about your sister washing dishes and cleaning countertops,” said Riley.

  I mentally urged Savannah not to give away the fact that I had the hots for her boyfriend’s brother.

  “I’m excited about it. It’s a foot in the door of the food and hospitality industry.”

  “And sometimes you get free food,” said Riley. “Perks of having a chef brother, or boss.”

  “But he’s not really my boss,” I said, “I mean, he’s the sous chef, right? So there’s still someone higher than him.”

  “Yeah,” said Riley, “He’s pretty new to the position even though he’s taking on more responsibility now, like interviewing applicants and creating new recipes. But Sam and Maria Gollings own the place. Sam’s the head chef, and his wife runs all the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

  I nodded, trying to remember the details so I’d seem informed when I went in for my first day of work. Then a taste memory of the chocolate mousse appeared. “Oh, and guess what, girls?” I said, glancing around and wondering where my other sisters were. “Vision. Chocolate mousse. Bingo.” I gave a nod.

  “You tasted it for real?” asked Talia.

  “Yep. It was even better than I thought.” I tipped my head back.

  “Am I missing something? Oh yeah, I’m not a Delta Girl.” Riley had gotten used to the fact that we sometimes talked about random vision things.

  Savvy ruffled his hair.

  “And nothing about the um, the other vision?” asked Talia.

  I shook my head. “I was worried when I saw an old man at one of the tables, but he was okay.”

  There was silence for a moment, until Serena opened the front door and walked in, then switched on the TV for the five o’clock news.

  “Serena, you know I hate watching that stuff.” Talia got up and moved toward our bedroom.

  “Me too, but we have to stay informed in case any clues show up about Dad.”

  She had a point. Maybe we’d see something that related to our visions, or even to do with the workwear uniform Dad was wearing.

  Serena flopped on the couch and half watched while checking her phone.

  I went to the kitchen just as Mom arrived home and did the same, except she’d bought take
out. “No cooking for me tonight?”

  “I thought we’d have the night off.” She gave me a squeeze. “Interview went okay?”

  I nodded. “Got the job.”

  “You did? Oh wow, that’s my girl!” Mom kissed my cheek, and I could tell she’d just had one of her favorite chai lattes as I could smell or sense it around her.

  “I start Monday after school.”

  “Looks like I’ll have to make do in our kitchen without you.” She pouted.

  “Sorry!”

  “You just enjoy your job, don’t worry about me. I’ll try to get some of those lazy little things out there to help out.”

  “Tamara!” Serena called out. “Quick!”

  I dashed out to see Serena pointing at the TV.

  “Investigators don’t know what has caused the outbreak, but it appears to be some kind of toxin or contaminant. Restaurants are being advised to take extra precautions and use trusted suppliers to prevent potential poisonings.”

  Poisonings? I watched the rest of the report, and it showed a photo of an old man who had suffered some kind of reaction after eating out, similar to a handful of other reported cases.

  “Symptoms may include muscle spasms, seizures, disorientation, and nerve pain. People experiencing any of these symptoms are advised to see a doctor immediately.”

  Serena looked at me with a serious expression. “Do you think that man was who we sensed?”

  Talia appeared beside me. “That explains what I felt.”

  “You guys saw this?” Riley asked.

  “I think so,” I replied. “So it wasn’t epilepsy, but a reaction of some kind to contaminated food.”

  “Looks that way,” said Savvy.

  I thought about Harborside and hoped nothing like that would happen there. The cases had all been in other places, several hours away from here and in the same vicinity, so it might just be some kind of local contaminant. But how could we do anything to help? We always got visions for a reason, but sometimes those reasons liked to take their damn time showing up.

  Chapter 6

  Apparently Serena wasn’t the only one who thought it was a good idea to keep up with the news. I yawned as Miss Weir stood in front of the class on Monday afternoon, in the English class that would never end, and discussed the differences and blurred lines between opinionated and factual journalism, while my tired gaze blurred on her frizzy hair. I just wanted to hear that bell buzz and get out of there and start my first day at work. I didn’t need to know this stuff. I already knew what I wanted to do with my life, so why did school have to delay everything?

  “Please collect three examples of articles or news reports that you feel are heavily opinionated, or factual and balanced in point of view. Write an essay on your reasons for choosing the pieces, and then choose one of the articles and rewrite it in the opposite style.” Miss Weir handed out an instruction sheet. “So if you choose an opinionated piece, rewrite it to be more balanced and factual. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know all the facts—just write it as though you do.”

  The assignment made me think of Dad’s disappearance. Mom had reluctantly shown us the newspaper reports about Dad after a few years, when we’d started growing up and asking more questions. Had they been opinionated or factual? Did the journalists know more than they let on? How could we find out more about the facts so that Dad’s story could be rewritten and given a proper ending?

  I didn’t hear the bell until I noticed everyone shuffling out of their chairs. Talia glanced my way and rubbed her hands together with excitement. Oh yes, my first day! It was here. I was going to rush home, grab a snack, get changed, and arrive at Harborside ready for business.

  “How am I supposed to find time for assignments like these now that I have a job?” I asked Talia as we exited the classroom.

  “You’ll have to work on them when you get home for a half hour or so.”

  “But school’s just finished! The last thing I want to do as soon as I get home is more work.”

  “I know, but better than having to stay up late to get it done.”

  “Maybe Serena will help me find the articles or something. I could bribe her with cupcakes.”

  “Good idea.” Talia chuckled, and we met with our sisters and began the walk home.

  • • •

  I slowed my walking speed on the way to the restaurant, realizing that if I kept going at my eager pace I’d be too early and seem too, well, eager. When I neared the corner, I hesitated. There were still ten minutes to go.

  I turned in the other direction, deciding to go for a short wander past the shops in the main street. I stopped at the newsstand, my face scrunching up at all the bad news portrayed in the newspapers.

  Political scandal!

  Armed robberies on the rise!

  Body found!

  Wait, body found? I grabbed the paper and opened to the story. I scanned it quickly, my heart rate rising, my hope rising with it. My breath stopped high in my chest, then released with a sigh. The remains were apparently that of a woman, most likely over fifty. I didn’t know how they could tell those things, until the story mentioned something to do with the shape of the hip bones and evidence of osteoporosis. Sad. But still, someone who had cared about her was hopefully going to find out what happened. They wouldn’t be waiting any longer to lay their loved one to rest.

  “Would you like to buy the paper, dear?” asked the man behind the counter.

  I looked up to meet his gaze. I did need to get articles for my assignment, but then I would have to carry the bulky newspaper to work, and my small bag wasn’t big enough. “Um, no, maybe tomorrow.”

  “It’ll be yesterday’s news tomorrow.” He chuckled.

  I shrugged, then noticed in my peripheral vision someone on a ladder in the corner of the store, installing a security camera. I watched the man for a moment.

  “Shoplifters,” the man behind the counter said. “I have eyes in the back of my head, but apparently that’s not enough.”

  “You’ve had things stolen from here?” Someone would have to be pretty desperate to steal a newspaper, but inside there were various magazines, gifts, and office supplies.

  He nodded. “But hopefully, if it happens again, we can catch them in the act.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if I see anything suspicious,” I said, trying to reassure him that it certainly wouldn’t be me. Oh, and if I sense the culprit in one of my visions, I’ll be sure to let you know!

  I walked away and back up toward Harborside. Five minutes early. That was acceptable. Thankfully that old man wasn’t sitting inside, or I’d worry about him again. Not that he had epilepsy, but that he’d get poisoned. Though, the old man in our visions was most probably the one they’d shown on the news, so we could probably file that vision away as a closed case now.

  I opened the door. There were no customers, though it was late on a Monday afternoon and any potential customers were probably waiting to come in for dinner in an hour or two.

  “Hello?” I called out softly, knocking my slightly shaking fist on the wall near the door to the kitchen, not wanting to barge in and announce: “Here I am, Tamara Delcarta, at your service!”

  “Hi,” Leo said. “Come on through.”

  He smiled, and I smiled back.

  “Before we get started, I need you to fill out some forms.” He ushered me into the office and grabbed some papers from the desk. He put them in front of me and then added, “Oh, a pen. Here you go.” He handed me one.

  I filled in my details but realized halfway through that I didn’t know my bank account information. “Um, can I take these home to get the rest of the info?” I pointed to the form.

  “Sure, as long as we have your signature here for now. That’s the main thing.”

  I signed on the dotted line and folded the form and put it in my bag.

  “And you can put your bag here.” He opened a small cupboard near the office entrance, and I slid my bag in nex
t to a couple of others and a jacket.

  “Okay, let’s show you around.” Leo clapped his hands together, and I noticed how long and slender his fingers were, in a masculine way. Like they were pianist’s hands, or a sculptor’s. In a way he was a sculptor, but of food, creating visual and gastronomic masterpieces. If food could be like music, then he was the Mozart of chefs. I assumed, anyway, after tasting his chocolate mousse. If his other food was anything like it, I couldn’t wait to taste it. Although I was here to work, not to eat.

  I caught the gaze of a bulky man as he turned around from his workstation. “You must be Tamara. I’m Sam,” he said, wiping his hand on a cloth then extending it.

  I gulped a little. Boss man. The owner of Harborside.

  “Hi, Sam.” Or should I have called him Mr. Gollings? No, he would have introduced himself that way if he wanted formalities. And his name made me think of Gollum from Lord of the Rings, which might have made me have an attack of that inappropriately random laughter again. I shook his hand, making sure to grasp it firmly like I was a confident, capable young woman.

  “Leo will show you around. Let us know if you have any questions. And thanks for taking on the job!”

  “Thanks for hiring me.” I smiled.

  “Our wait staff will be here soon, although Lucy, my niece, she only works casual shifts and isn’t in tonight. But you’ll meet her soon enough.”

  I nodded. Leo took me on a tour of the restaurant, starting with the reception counter where bookings were made and payments given. He showed me the menu and explained how there had to be a variety of different choices and options for people with varying tastes and allergies. And then he showed me around the kitchen, taking me on a virtual journey from ingredients to finished meal, so that I knew the process and where my help would be needed along the way. There were different areas for different tasks, such as chopping and preparing ingredients, and plating up. He showed me where the finished meals were put, ready for the wait staff to pick up and take out to customers, and explained the importance of not rushing past it so as to avoid any disastrous accidents that would require the meal to be remade.