Immediately After One of Yours
To say she was anxious would be a glaring understatement for Viktoriya.
After the Captain’s ra-ra speech, Jonas’s booting from the program and the whirlwind of excitement from her fellow crewmates, a lot had happened in a short amount of time and Viki was using everything in her very being to mask her unease behind an iron curtain. Still, there was something deep in her gut, a knot or a demon of doubt, telling her that she didn’t belong. She wasn’t meant to be here.
Her chef whites were unusual, at least comparatively to what Viki was used to. They were not the traditional straight arm and corner fold that she had worn in other restaurants. These ones were more like tunics, cinched at the waist and tight around the chest, which Viktoriya didn’t mind too much. She wasn’t that self confident in her looks but the dark haired girl knew her hip game was strong and she had decent boobs. The sleeves were short and fitted and she finished the ensemble with a lightly slit at the thigh pencil shirt that skewed a little shorter. It was hotter than a circle of hell in Florida after all and she also wanted to try and look even an iota like some of the girls that she was now crewing with; those girls were Amazonian queens.
It wasn’t that far a walk to Eden’s Eatery. A lot of the local businesses seemed to have some relationship with the Corsairs from what Viki could tell; Symbiotic, she would say. Eden’s was to be her Homebase for the CAP season. A place for her and others like her to practice and create recipes, to hone their craft until they were called upon to travel to wherever the Captain and the guests needed them to go. Along with her anxiety, excitement was starting to well inside with every step onto the pavement by her Etnies shoes. She was about to begin working with a bonafide legend in the culinary community and a personal hero of hers Chef Lance Irvine; He was a multiple Michelin star winner and the proprietor of some of the finest restaurants around the world.
Lance's story began in a place not too dis-similar to Fort Lauderdale; Cape Cod. He grew up on the beach, by the water, serving tourists and townies at the little sandwich stall that his parents ran during their off time. It was where his love for food began. When he graduated high school, Chef Lance spent years travelling, discovering new cuisines, sharpening skills more deadly than a knife and when he returned to the Cape, he turned that family stall into his first restaurant, Dotties. In the intervening years, he has formed more divine delicatessens like Faith’s and The Ivy, all renowned and beloved. Eden’s was no different, though its focus was far more on light nights and breakfast food. Though behind the front, was the test kitchen, a place for the CAP chefs to plot, plan and cook up their wicked brews to take on their charters with them.
Viktoriya approached Eden’s from the back, as she had been informed to do by Korinna. As she approached the door, she could hear a faint sound coming from the other side, a beat of some kind? She took out her key card and slipped it down the designated slot. It was a key made of magic, she thought, as the door clicked opened. Viki was not greeted by a smiling face but instead by the near deafening sound of legendary British pop sensation; Rod Stewart.
“Wake up Maggie, I think I got something to say to you!” Lance stood at the counter top, dropping something into his frying pan as he rocked his head to the music .
“It’s late September and I really should be back at school!” He sang at the top of his lungs. When one hears Michelin Chef, they did not picture someone like Lance. He wore faded blue jeans, a Cheap Trick t-shirt and danced around his kitchen without a fear in the world and a Budweiser in his free hand. His big blue eyes lifted from his creation to look at the now open doorway.
“Fuck yeah! You gotta be Viki, welcome to madhouse, you're gonna love it here.” He took a swig from his bottle before slamming it down onto the counter and belching loudly.
“Well don’t just stand here, get in here, grab a knife and start cutting. Oh and your head chef is here somewhere, ADI?!”“Aucun de ces gens ne sait ce qu'ils font. Où les as-tu trouvés? Où est mon peuple?” As the sound of click clack from six-inch kitten heels stormed in from the back room, the redhead threw her hands in the air in exasperation. The new year brought in a fresh group of people for her to haze, and apparently not a single one of them knew what the hell they were doing. Well, according to her, anyway. Adi turned to Lance to complain before spotting the new girl. She raised a manicured brow and put her hands onto her slim hips. The tunic she wore hugged every curve just perfectly, the tight black dress underneath stopping right above her knees. All in all, she was an absolute sight to see. And yet the look on her exquisitely made up face could stop anyone in their tracks. A firestorm contained within a Victoria’s Secret model.
”Oh. A new one.” While she had heard that there would be fresh blood in her kitchen, she wasn’t too keen on teaching someone to take over her position. She knew nobody would ever be able to compare to her talents. At least she looked decent enough. Her eyes ran over the woman’s presentation.
”Cute.” She tilted her head, causing the small tendrils of hair framing her face to fall to the side. The rest was perfectly coifed in a slicked backed bun at the back of her head. While she trusted Lance completely, she needed to know what this guppie was capable of.
”Show me what you can do.”Viktoriya’s mastery of the French language was limited to what she had learned at a high school level (though she did get an A+) but she didn’t need to be fluent to pick up the cadence of the the redhead woman’s words; this kitchen was a proving ground and Viki had to step up if she was going to survive.
She held a brief pause to soak in everything around her, the environment, the frantically working staff and the woman that was challenging her. Inside her mind, a dichotomy was forming; Viktoriya didn’t know whether to be terrified or turned on. This woman was drop dead gorgeous, just like all the others that she had met so far but she carried an air of authority that screamed perfection. Already the Russian knew that nearly every task she would undertake in the following moments would be scrutinised, criticised and pulled apart for its flaws and imperfections.
It was put up or shut up time.
Placing her hands on her hips, in a similar posture to the recent horrifying and beautiful arrival, Viktoriya stood proudly and powerfully, ready to show what she could do.
”What’s the challenge?” Her voice was fierce, her eyes clear and her determination was high. She was going to prove that she belonged there just like everybody else. She was good at what she did but good wasn’t enough, Viki needed to be perfect.
This seemed fun; tension, Lance loved a bit of tension in the kitchen. It added so much flavour.
”Alright. I got one for you.” The Executive Chef turned down the music on his phone, letting its low hum become background noise instead of a live and in color concert.
”Why don’t you prep breakfast for the guests? I know technically we haven’t been told anything about them yet but that’s part of the fun. Take a punt.” The older man glanced over at his best student. He had pulled the same challenge in Adelaide on her first season, he wondered if it conjured memories.
”We won’t tell you where anything is, how long you’ve got, everything is on you and your skills. It’s badass.” Her brow raised higher as the new blood stood her ground. While Adi could appreciate her confidence, she knew how high her own standards were. And this little tart didn’t look like she’d be able to rise to the occasion. Tragic. Before she could mention her own little test, Lance spoke up. A small grin pulled at the left corner of her mouth. Of course he would pull the same methods he had used on her. Maybe this meant the chef saw potential where she did not. However, he was hardly wrong and she had the most absolute trust in the man.
Glancing up at the large clock on the wall, she gave a small nod of her head before returning her attention back to the young woman. Normally she would already know her name by now, but it wouldn’t be of any importance to Adelaide if the woman couldn’t keep up. She would have to earn her spot in any of Adi’s kitchens. Folding her arms against her ample chest, her grin turned into a smirk.
”Begin.”Viktoriya wasn’t one to waste time: as soon as Chef Lance had made mention of breakfast, her mind began to work in overdrive to put together some dishes that would be worthy of his kitchen. She knew nothing of the guests, the Captain hadn’t held a preference meeting yet, so she was completely in the dark. That was fine, despite the ball of anxiety that the beautiful Russian was in a social setting, the kitchen was her playground, her home.
Logic was her friend. First and foremost, Lance had said guests. Meaning that there was more than one, an individual meal wouldn’t cut it; whatever she made there needed to be plenty of it. Second, Viki had been lucky enough to work in a few of Lance’s restaurants previously and in every one, the kitchen set up was the same. The back of house of Eden’s was most likely the same, so she wouldn’t have to navigate her way around impaired by lack of navigation. Thirdly, time was short and lacking in abundance, pressure created diamonds and Viki in a kitchen like this would shine.
Turning down her cochlear implant to prevent distraction, Viktoriya got to work. She immediately turned multiple hobs on three different ovens, letting them warm as she moved towards the far left workstation to relieve it of bread and eggs. Moving around like she already knew the place, the Sous Chef started her first dish, French Toast, it was simple, effective and a not so subtle dig at the harpy staring a hole through her.
Vik didn’t know if the guests would be high society or just regular people on vacation, so her plan was to mix the breakfast with as many styles as much as she could, a taste for all seasons as it were. Taking inspiration from her childhood, or more accurately, the childhood of those she watched through restaurant windows, Viktoriya also added Syrniki to the line up of breakfast foods. Syrniki were caramelised fruit pancakes with sour cream and a dollop of caviar for that savoury sweetness. She then poached some eggs, in a huevos rancheros sauce with some chilli, coriander, onion and feta cheese.
Lance pressed a knuckle to his lip as he watched Viktoriya silently. She was a machine, the timing of everything she was doing was impeccable. Many talented chefs had graced his kitchens, many not so talented had soured them, but none, not even Adelaide, worked with this level of efficiency. When her application first crossed his desk, Lance’s curiosity was piqued by Viki’s mixed citizenship and the kitchens she had worked in. As time ticked away, the Executive Chef looked towards his favourite student.
”She’s good, Chef.”As the woman’s hand went to the side of her head, Adi tilted her own head in curiosity. What was she doing? Was that- Her eyes widened slightly when it finally clicked for her. The woman had on a hearing aide. She was deaf? And working in a kitchen? A tiny iota of respect built inside her chest for her. Adi didn’t know how everything would be different for the woman, but as she moved about the kitchen, it didn’t seem to hold her back any. If anything, she would
kill to be able to just turn off the noise all around her. While the hustle and bustle of a good working kitchen was like an orchestra to her soul, it also heavily influenced her mood at times. What she wouldn’t give to be able to just focus on her craft.
Her eyes continued to watch the woman as she started to prepare her dishes. The French toast dish drew an eye roll from her, but otherwise she was impressed by what she was seeing in front of her. Would she ever admit that? Absolutely not. A muscle ticked in her jaw at Lance’s comment, verifying that he saw the potential in the woman as well.
”It’s just breakfast.””Most important meal of the day.” Lance cracked open another day beer as he spoke. He took a sip before cupping the ice cold can in both hands as if it were a mug of cocoa or coffee; it was his equivalent anyway.
”Plus if I remember right, you didn’t seem to have that mentality when you did this challenge. Way back when.”Viktoriya began to stage her plates for each of her breakfast dishes. Some were presented in such a way that they wouldn’t look amiss in a fine dining establishment, others were messy but hearty, like something from a corner pub or greasy spoon. She knew exactly what styles were needed for each dish and how to make them stand out with appeal. The first taste was always with the eye after all.
”Service!” The Russian called. On cue, a swath of waiters and waitresses poured into the kitchen and began to take her plates. As they were breakfast for the guests, she watched as they were carefully wrapped like Christmas presents to be delivered to whomever was about to grace the Corsairs with their presence, Viki turned her implant back on and then proceeded to fold her arms across her chest.
”How was that Chef?”“Shit was tight.” Lance smiled as he raised his can in the air as a salute.
“Your timing is pretty snug and I love it.” He pressed the index finger and thumb of his left hand together to form an OK sign.
“Few kinks to work out for sure, your theme is all over the place. I understand you were trying to cater for everyone but there was too much going on. Too busy. Beyond that? Pretty badass.” Chef Lance lifted his beer to his lips once more and polished off the near entirety of the can in less than three seconds before crushing it in his palm and throwing it into the recycle.
”Bones will call a preference sheet meeting soon, you two should get to know each other. Imma go take a shit. Peace out.” The Michelin star recipient did not hesitate any longer and swiftly made his exit.
The anxiety that she had hidden soon crept up again now that Viktoryia was face to face with the redhead. This was going to be her boss and possibly the woman she may replace if she stayed on for more than one season. That was a daunting feeling, Viki didn’t know if she now had a target on her back, with Adelaide’s sharpest kitchen knives aimed directly at her.
”It’s really nice to meet you. I’m Viktoriya.”Adelaide didn’t bother to hold back her eye roll at Lance’s comment. She was nowhere near intimidated by him anymore; the man was more like her father instead of her boss. As she watched the woman begin to plate her dishes, her nose scrunched up in distaste. Never would she leave a plate messy, no matter who she was catering to. Fine dining was in her blood and nothing would ever be able to sway her from presenting everything as such.
As the woman finally turned back to them, Adi bit her tongue as Lance responded. Finally he downed the rest of his beer before smashing it in his hand. It barely drew a reaction out of her. This was typical Lance. So, she just stood there, arms across her chest, her eyes fully focused on the woman in front of her. She didn’t even blink when her boss left the two alone together. A brow rose once more as the woman introduced herself. Now that Lance had given his notes and left her to it, it was her time to criticize.
”You’re sloppy. Never again will you serve something in my kitchen without it passing my standards.”Giving the woman another once over, she scoffed and dropped her arms. There was nothing else for them to do now that breakfast had been served.
”We need to polish you up. Your knife skills are fine, but they can be better. You can practice while we wait for the meeting.” She went to step away before pausing.
”Adelaide.” Nodding, she moved over to the prep station and grabbed her own set of knives from the top shelf. She pulled out her blades and started to sharpen them.
”Prove to me I can trust you in my kitchen.”Sloppy. Sloppy?
That was never a way that she had been described before. So Adelaide was going to be one of those bosses. That was fine; Viktoriya had worked for those perfectionist types of chefs before, in fact she was one herself but the difference between her and them was that Viki could also be reactive. She knew how to cater to her diners and wasn’t regimented in her approach to the craft of cuisine or the presentation. It seemed, at least at first glance, that Adelaide was beholden to her own ideals. This was likely going to be a very long season.
”Yes, chef.” The brunette began to tidy up the remnants of her breakfast sprint that were scattered across Lance’s kitchen surfaces.
”The crew had a lot of wonderful things to say about you last night.” Vik wasn’t sure why she was even trying to entertain small talk with Adelaide for two distinct reasons. The first was that she simply sucked at it. The second was because she didn’t think it would actually amount to anything. Her new boss didn’t scream social butterfly despite her glamorous appearance.
Seriously how did she stay so put together? The girl was perfectly perfect in every perfect fucking way.
Quick to submit. Perfect. It was exactly the way Adi wanted her chefs to be. Well, to her, anyway. She was completely focused on the task of sharpening her knives when the woman spoke up again. Raising a brow, she barely missed a beat when she gave her response.
”Of course they did. I’m, how do you say…awesome?” She couldn’t help a grin of her own at her comment. Blowing out a breath, she shook her head and kept her eyes firmly on the sharpening rod so as to not damage her delicate fingers.
”I’m really not as tightass as I appear to be.” She scrunched her nose before continuing.
”Well. Not always.”She set down her tools before turning to look at the woman.
”I run a strict kitchen because I demand perfection. I want only the best for my customers. I want them to experience what food is really meant to be like.” Adelaide shook her head and returned to her task.
”And I kind of had a rough night. So. You’re the hitting bag.” Or was it punching bag? She wasn’t quite sure what the English word was.
”Might as well get used to it, it will definitely happen often. But I promise I’m rather delightful outside of my duties.”Viktoriya couldn’t help but wonder how much, if any of it at all, was an act? She could see that Adelaide took her role as seriously as a heart attack. One really didn’t have to know the girl very well to see that. And through the haze of the Sauvignon that she drank the night before, Vik seemed to remember the redhead grinding on somebody and dropping it like she wore apple bottom jeans whilst on the dance floor the previous evening. So really, Adi couldn’t be that bad, right?
”I understand.” She acquiesced to her senior.
”This is your kitchen. I’m here to learn and become a better chef.” Ego was a fragile thing. If the egoist is weak, her egotism is worthless. If the egoist is strong, acute and full of distinctive character, her egotism is precious and remains a possession of the race. Viktoriya didn’t need to be a philosopher or great intellect to know that Adelaide was all ego and she needed it to be stroked. Then again, most people in their industry were selfish and cared less about the guests and more about challenging their own sense of skill.
The only thing she knew for certain, was that it was going to be a long long summer.
”I’m looking forward to learning from you.””Good!” A genuine grin spread across Adi’s face towards the woman before she nodded her head towards their task at hand.
”Now stop talking and get to work.”
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