Getting to the Other Side

Placing the crisp white chef’s beanie over her hairnet Jessica Parker stares at the spotless silver wall separating the kitchen from the dining room. The silver was polished shining brighter than the blemish free stainless steel of the rest of the kitchen the owner sure had an obsession with the silver appearance. There were a few items around that were black or red but very few.

Double checking her uniform she breathed in a few calming breaths, she always took them daily then stepped forward into the bustling staff.

New to the restaurant Jessica had not formed a friendly rapport with the people who were prepping for the day she nodded at a few. The lunch rush would start soon when the restaurant opened at eleven, time was in short supply so Jessica washed up in the wash area then approached the sous chef. Bruce was a forty something stern man. He liked everything to be timed to the minute which was a necessity to be rigid with time with his career. Wanting to become a sous chef, Jessica tried to observe every possible move he made. There had been a couple of times she had gotten the stern stare from him as he caught her watching.

“Good morning, Jessica.” Bruce handed her a meal plan for lunch.

“Get that done,” no sooner had he said that he was off to the next person.

Skimming over the choices she knew what her plan was, she specialized in sauces, sauces of all kinds, especially creamy ones. Swallowing quickly she headed to the fridge, the sauces she planned always created her mouth to water. Tasting every sauce she created she wondered how she was not overweight. It amazed her. Slim was no trial to achieve, she considered herself lucky. The richness of the sauces ‘should put meat on her bones’ as her dad would say.  

Sidestepping around a dishwasher quickly as he nearly collided with her, his arms laden with dirty pots, one teetered then slammed to the floor splattering what appeared to be a green slop across the floor. Apolizing nervously the young man carried the remaining dishes to the prewash sink.  Bruce started yelling to clean that mess now. 

Feeling glad she was not the poor person to receive his wrath she returned to her station. Now was the time to put her twenty-five-year-old mind to the task at hand, creating masterpieces and sides. The shift progressed through to evening with no other mishaps with the wash persons but one small disaster with the cream sauce spilling into a burner. The smell was at awful, there was no other smell worse than burning milk, Jessica mused, her nose wrinkling with the memory.  Wiping her station clean she looked to where Bruce was standing he was in a deep conversation with the head chef, Eric, and the handsome owner, Isaac Thompson. Jerking her wondering gaze back to the counter she re-wiped the area, hoping

Isaac had not seen her. The man made her nervous, stutter even in his presences. 

Pleased with the success of her shift, time was slowing towards the nightly shutdown. The dishwashing continued, later a cleaning crew would come in and clean the kitchen floors and the rest of the restaurant. Even though she loved cooking, she loved removing the chefs beanie and itchy hairnet.

Not looking back she went into the ladies room for staff, unable to wait any longer to remove the net. Tonight she would not observe Bruce. Tired and sweaty, a shower and a light meal were just the choices. 

Hairnet removed she dabbed a dampened paper hand towel let on her cheeks, the coolness was heaven. Moaning in pleasure, she realized the sound echoed through the bathroom. Blushing, she was glad no one could hear her. The clinking and banging carried on in the kitchen, the sound slightly muffled.

Yanking open the door swiftly, she stepped through and nearly collided with a male figure standing in the hall. Embarrassed, she apologized only to realize the figure was non other than Isaac. Feeling a deeper blush flood her cheeks she caught herself shaking her head again or maybe it was still. Had she continued shaking her head coming out the door? There were no choice at forming words, too embarrassed to think clearly Jessica stood frozen next to Isaac. Who, she realized was observing her with which raised brows. Could she dash back into the bathroom and hope to disappear?

He must have read her thoughts as he stepped toward her, reaching around to hold the door.

“Careful. You don't want the door to hit you on your way out.” He was too close. Feeling the warmth of his breath flow over her cheek, she tried to step back.

Stopping short when she realized the door was pressing on her back. He had not grabbed the door to stop her retreat, but to stop it from hitting her.

“Thank you. Excuse me,” croaking the words out, she knew the sound should have been from a frog, she stepped in the direction of the exit.

“One minute of your time, please.”

Those words freezing all movement out of her a second time in less than two minutes. Was there a problem, she wondered.

“Nothing bad, I assure you.”

Moving into her sight, like a stalking wolf, ready to attack. Attack her? Then what? She wondered; tingling sensations trickled over her skin.

“I have a few questions in regard to Bruce. I watch my staff closely and noticed your gaze trailing after him all moments of the day. I am going to assume you know he's married. So what is the obsession you have with him?”

Right to the point, no time to form a response. How to answer without sounding like she was after Bruce’s profession position?

“Hmm?” Isaac tilted his head to the side, brows raised.

“First of all, I admire Bruce. He is very effective at his job.”

“That’s why I hired him. Please continue,” he interjected.

“I am not after his job. But I want to be like him, I want to be a sous chef one day, and I believe watching him could help me towards that goal.”

“You don’t find him madly attractive?” He teased, somewhat gently. 

“No. I guess he is attractive, but I don’t see him in that way, Mr. Thompson.” The nerve of the man!

“Good. Romance in the workplace can cause too many problems.”

Shifting his feet, he nodded and stared at the floor. Swiftly he met her gaze squarely. The seriousness of his expression caused her breath to hitch. His eyes travelled over her face, then back to her eyes. 

Taking in a deep breath, he spoke with a grave tone, “there have been other comments from staff and a couple of our patrons of you staring at him. I would greatly appreciate it if could you slow down and become more discreet in your information gathering.”

“Of course,” it was very embarrassing to know others had been catching her watch Bruce.  Through her mortifying shame she caught the fact that he had mentioned that patrons had said something. How could the visiting individuals see her?

“How is it the patron have seen me? We are enclosed in the kitchen.”

Isaac glanced towards the silver wall separating the kitchen and dining areas. The almost puzzled expression crossed his gorgeous face, making him appear nearly boyish. 

“You don’t know that wall is one way glass?” he asked, pointing at the silver wall. 

“What?” Jessica could not fathom how that was possible. She had stepped out the kitchen doors to see the dining arrangement when she had first arrived three weeks prier. She had not seen into the kitchen from where she had stood and realized her mistake. When she had turned and entered the kitchen she had not once taken in the wall separating the spaces. Her focus was the kitchen and memorizing the layout. 

“Oh my gosh! Oh dear!” She had to see for herself as she dashed to the swinging kitchen doors.

Stepping through and turning, she gazed into the kitchen. Seeing her station close in front,  she realized all her movements could be seen all the time, clear as day, through what appeared to be regular clear glass. She had been on centre stage. No wonder others knew what she had been doing.

 Not only had she been observing Bruce, she tasted the sauces. Each taste test always got an action or reaction, good and bad. The flavours were reflected across her face with expressions ranging from discuss to the ultimate pleasure. The world outside the kitchen had seen it all.

 “Are you okay, Jessica?” Isaacs asked tenderly.

 “I'm not sure. I think I might throw up or pass out.” Gasping, Jessica forced air into her lungs. The world was spinning.

 “Hold onto the doorway, I'll be right back.”

 Focussing on the frame, she kept her balance. Pressing palms and forehead against the sturdy frame, she breathed.

 “Here. Sit.”

Warm hands gripped her elbows, guiding back into a chair. The room spun slower, reality settling in her boggled mind.

 “Does Bruce know I've been watching him?”

 “Yes.”

 “Oh Lord.”

 “He figured you were doing what you were actually doing. He is conceited. But he is wise. He had you figured out within hours I believe. It just wasn’t so plain to see for others. I am sorry to say I thought you were crushing on him.”

 “Really?!?” giggling, Jessica felt thankful that Bruce knew what she was about. That was the main factor in this situation. Relief flooded her.

 “Are we all good?” Isaac echoed her thought.

 “I think so. Are we all good?”

 “Yes, we are. Would you like a coffee before you head home?”

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Mr. Thompson.”

 “Isaac, please. Shall we?”

 “One cup then I’ll head home.”

 Stepping over to the first table, Jessica felt relieved and expectant.