Louise

‘I’m serious, the guy looks like a real A-hole!’

‘Well,’ Sam said, stirring a pot of minestrone soup on the stove, ‘it’s not really our business, is it? He’s still paying to be here.’

God knows why… unless peeling walls and stained tablecloths were your thing, Sam thought.

Jack wasn’t easily dismissed, ‘But you should see the girl he’s with! I can’t believe she’d agree to go on a date with him…’

That’s Jack - my best friend, flatmate, and reason I have this shitty job.

Sam had become fast friends with Jack after they’d bonded during a Halo team match a couple of years ago, though they hadn’t met in person until recently. Sam had needed a place to stay for his culinary studies at university, and Jack was itching to get out of his parent’s basement. Now, they lose Halo matches from their shared living room rather than bedrooms halfway across the country.

Focusing back on Jack, Sam couldn’t help but get sucked into the conversation despite himself, ‘Maybe she didn’t, it could’ve been a blind date?’

‘Yeah, s’pose,‘ Jack scratched the back of his head thoughtfully, ‘Man! Rotten luck for her, though, isn’t it?’

Giving in, Sam finally turned to look over his shoulder and out onto the restaurant floor through the serving station. Glancing around the room, he only needed a few seconds to spot the table in question - two months in this insult-to-Italian-cuisine kitchen had taught him to expect them. Unsuspecting ladies paired with men who wouldn’t know personal grooming if it came and slapped them in the face.

Sam recalled the last couple he’d seen with fondness, the guy really was a piece of work. The poor girl had gotten there first - all dolled up and excited, tugging the hem of her modest black dress and twirling her soft blonde hair between her fingers. The look of disappointment on her face when she realised her date would not be the right man for her was priceless. He’d practically burped his name in greeting, before leaning over in an attempt to kiss her cheek. It’s a wonder she’d made it as far as the starter before storming out - he’d been trying to feel her up from under the table the moment he’d sat down (Jack had caught an eyeful when filling their wine glasses).

Did they really think they’d stand a chance? Especially bringing them here - we’re cheap for a reason.

Jack had neglected to inform Sam of the state of the restaurant when encouraging him to apply for the job role. ‘We’d be working together!’ he’d said, ‘It’d be fun!’ he’d said. Now Sam’s stuck in what essentially is just a dressed up microwave for a kitchen, reheating frozen pizzas and pouring Dolmio packets over pasta that would’ve been fresh about five years ago. 

But the Minestrone Soup was his baby, he’d had to fight tooth and nail for it to be added to the menu. Only the promise that he’d be solely responsible for making it could appease his manager. While he didn’t have the best quality ingredients, they were certainly more fresh than the rest of the larder - and now he had an excuse to practice his newly acquired culinary skills.

Skills that weren’t currently in use, as hadn’t turned back to the stove since attempting to look for the new subject of Jack’s gossip. From his position at the rusty burners, he could only make out the unshaven face and scruffy shirt of her dinner partner. She was blocked by the table in front; they were straining to get Jack’s attention as he stood halfway through the door to the kitchen.

‘Don’t you think you better get back out there? Table 14’s been trying to catch your eye for like five minutes.’

‘Crap, yeah okay - back in a tick.’

Under the guise of plating another soup starter, Sam moved closer to the serving window. He began to ladle on autopilot, instead focusing on craning his neck for a better view of the table. Through the gap, he managed to catch a glimpse of her delicate features - though they were currently frowning at the man opposite.

She really is quite pretty… I wonder how she smiles… 

Yelping at the sudden heat burning his hand, Sam jumped and knocked the half-full bowl to the floor. At that same moment, Jack returned to the kitchen - slamming the door as he did so. Sam watched helplessly as the patterned ceramic shattered, his labour of love spreading evenly across the tiles at his feet. With his ears ringing, he hastily stepped over the mess to the kitchen sink - though the cool water did little to soothe his throbbing hand or ease his embarrassment.

‘Are you gonna help me or what?!’ Sam whispered indignantly, conscious of the many faces of restaurant patrons now turned in their direction talking animatedly.

‘What’s got your knickers in a twist, then?’ Jack chuckled, leaning against the counter in mock support.

Some friend you are.

‘If you hadn’t made so much noise, I wouldn’t have burnt myself!’

‘Pull the other one, mate, I saw your gormless staring - the whole bloody restaurant could.’

Flushing, Sam’s frustration relented, ‘Do you think she saw?’

‘Don’t know, but her fella sure did - could hear him effing and blinding a mile away.’

Sam groaned.

‘C’mon it’s not all bad, you’ve only got an hour left - the kitchen just had the last call.’

‘Get lost before I brain you with this mop,’ Sam said, reaching threateningly to the mop propped up nearby and shooing Jack in the process.

‘Oooh someone’s touchy!’ Jack called, as he went back to the restaurant floor.

Sighing, Sam turned his attention back to the cracked porcelain and spilled soup. Deciding to start with the dustpan and brush, he crouched by the mess and began to sweep up all the pieces he could find. It’d been a while since he’d screwed up, but at least the boss wasn’t in tonight - his wages were barely getting him by as is. He also didn’t want to give the guy a reason to go back to tinned soup instead. His Minestrone was the money maker; the pot he’d been working on was almost empty. Thankfully, after he re-plated the last bowl, there wouldn’t be any more starters to make this evening.

Within a few minutes, Sam stood and tipped the now-full dustpan into the large waste bin near the exit. Running the hot water for the mop bucket, he cast his eyes around the kitchen. For a restaurant with such a bad menu, there certainly was a lot of clean up. He had to wait for the final orders to come through, but he could mop the floor and tidy up his soup workstation in the meantime.

Finally clearing the spilled soup from the ground, Sam moved deeper into the kitchen and away from the service station - mopping the floor as he went. Feeling relaxed he allowed his mind to wander, noticing that the volume in the restaurant had returned to normal levels at last.

Thank God, though I can’t say I missed hearing the cheese they call “music”.

He knew all the words by heart now and was thoroughly sick of them, yet still his traitorous body swayed. Considering his position in the kitchen, the remaining customers wouldn’t be able to see him… probably. Throwing caution to the wind, he decided: fuck it. He was no longer Sam: Junior Chef burning himself with homemade soup - he was Sam: ballroom dancer extraordinaire!

Sam moved through the galley kitchen with grace, pointing his toes and raising his elbows to be the perfect partner for his mop. She was a little stiff, but the same couldn’t be said for him - his joints never felt looser as he swayed his hips in rhythm. It’d only taken a couple weeks for him to learn the layout of the kitchen, and it worked in his favour now. Sam twirled across the floor, eyes closed, feeling the music as he cleaned the floors, moved used dinnerware to dishwashers, and began returning ingredients to their cupboards.

At this rate, I’ll be ready to leave a few minutes early!

‘… uhh hi?’

Stumbling in surprise, Sam slipped on the wet floor and smacked his face into the still-open cupboard door. 

‘Fuck! Shi- Sorry!’

Looking up from his pathetic position crumpled on the floor, Sam realised he’d made it back to the front of the kitchen and squinted above the service station counter. 

Oh my god, it’s her. The girl from the bad date table, as if I haven’t humiliated myself enough tonight…

Scrambling to right himself, Sam let go of his now-broken dance partner and pushed himself up.

‘Yes, sorry, hi - what can I do for you?’

The girl had been laughing and her face lit up so beautifully. ‘Oh, it’s nothing… just-‘ she paused and looked back over towards her seat at the now empty table, ‘- I noticed you before… dancing.’

Face aflame, Sam spluttered, ‘Well, uhh, you see-‘

‘Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else did. My date had been pretty boring, and the kitchen seemed to get a lot more action.’ She winked and glanced down at his burnt hand.

Embarrassed to have been caught out on two occasions, Sam floundered for what to say while attempting to hide the hand behind his back.

‘I didn’t think anyone could see me…’

‘Well, don’t worry,’ she glanced down at his name badge, ‘Sam - I won’t tell.’

Fighting the urge to return the favour and look for her name, Sam smiled self-depreciatingly.

Don’t blow this shot, Sam. She finds you adorable, rather than stupid - that’s so rare in women where you’re concerned!

‘If you wanted to see more of me… that would be okay.’

Fuck, Sam, think before you speak!

Jack’s laughter could be heard from somewhere behind her, but all Sam could focus on was the growing smile and sparkle in her eyes.

‘I’d love to… I’m Louise.’