I couldn't help but sigh as Megan exclaimed behind me, though I didn't expect anything less of her.
"W-was I supposed to bring a hundred bucks?" The newcomer repeated with a confused look across her face as she looked between Megan and me, clearly looking for some kind of context.
"Please ignore her," I said quickly, looking back and shooting Megan a look that only made her smile more. "And no, you didn't have to bring any money, just your lovely self and your resume."
Megan's outburst was about the bet that the person I ended up hiring for the cook position would be some stunning model-type woman. And though I hated her timing in bringing up the matter, I couldn't help but agree that she had won the bet.
"Well, that's a relief, I was worried I had already messed up," She answered with a charming smile and a faint accent that was uniquely southern with its creole drawl. "Are you the owner?"
"Indeed, I am, Ramon Young. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms..."
"Tiana, Tiana Rogers."
"Well, Tiana, I would love to sit down with you for a moment and ask you a few questions if that's alright," I prompted while gesturing to a table.
"Happy to oblige," Tiana replied with an eager smile as she walked over to take the seat across from me. As she did, I took a second to admire her figure and appearance. Tiana's outfit was simply a white button-up shirt tucked into high-waisted jeans that clung to her long, shapely legs that supported her wide hips and peach-shaped ass, which stood out with her snatched waist and otherwise slender frame.
And even ignoring her captivating figure, Tiana's looks alone could have stolen the hearts of many men, with her dark complexion, buttery-smooth skin, plump lips, bright brown eyes, and long hair tied into a neat bun.
Tiana sat down across from me and quickly pulled her resume from her purse, handing it to me, "Can I assume you've worked in kitchens before?"
I asked Tiana a question while browsing through her papers, hoping to break any awkward tension, having interviewed quite a few eager young souls at my old firm.
"Ever since I was a little girl," Tiana answered enthusiastically.
"I see," I answered, only to pause as I finished reading over her work experience and former places of employment. While Tiana was right about how long she had been in the culinary industry, there was one glaring distinction, "Though I do have to ask, the only position you've held is as a waiter."
The moment I pointed that out, I watched Tiana's enthusiasm melt away, as she figeted nervously, "Yes, that is true, I've never actually worked in a kitchen, but I've been cooking ever since I could walk. It was even my dream once to open my own restaurant."
"Was?" I asked as I put down Tiana's resume and focused on her.
She hesitated for a moment before sighing, "I was almost there, had a place picked out and everything, but I got outbid at the last second. Years of working two jobs and saving every nickel and dime, all for nothing. So I up and left New Orleans and moved all the way north looking for a fresh start."
"Hmm, that is quite the story," I nodded along in sympathy.
Tiana looked to me with a hint of desperation in her eyes, "I know I may not be the most experienced, but I promise you, Mr. Young, I'm the hardest worker you'll ever meet. Just give me a chance, and I'll prove it to you!"
"Alright then, follow me," I answered after a second, standing up and watching Tiana stare at me with wide eyes. "Also, just call me Ramon."
After a bit of hesitation, Tiana stood up and followed me, looking unsure of herself until we stepped into the kitchen. In an instant, her expression changed into one of awe as she looked around the room. It was in that moment that I knew Tiana hadn't been lying about her dream to own her restaurant, as I watched the inspiration and ideas come to life behind her eyes.
"I've never seen a kitchen like this," Tiana muttered as she stared at the massive hearth in the center. "Did you build this place out yourself?"
"I wish I could take credit for the design," I replied with a wistful smile, "But I bought the restaurant just over two weeks ago and things haven't slowed down since. So I really wouldn't mind having an extra set of hands to help me. And I especially wouldn't mind if those hands were yours."
Tiana's head snapped over to look at me, "Wait, you want me to work here...with you?"
"Well, first of all, I want you to show me what you've got. You want to be a chef, then get to cooking." I encouraged gesturing around the kitchen, "Use anything you want, utilize this space like you worked here."
"You don't need to tell me twice," Tiana said with a determined look on her face as she rolled up her sleeves, "Where's your pantry and refrigerator? I need to see what I'm working with."
"We got dry shelf stable stuff in the back and a cold unit over there. Also, if you need anything, just tell me, and I can get it to you faster than you'd think."
"Well, I've been hankering for a proper po-boy ever since I moved up here," Tiana spoke somewhat absently as she moved around the kitchen like she had been living there all her life, snatching up spices and ingredients without so much as a second glance, "You wouldn't happen to have any lobster, would you?"
"We got tails in the freezer," I called out while I leaned against the door, sitting back and watching Tiana go to work.
"That's perfect," Tiana grinned as she laid out her ingredients, and I gave them a quick once-over. "You're making bread?"
"A proper po-boy requires a proper French baguette," Tiana replied sagely as she started to hum a tune, "It's going to take a while, I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all, and I hope you don't mind me asking if I can lend a hand," I offered as I pushed off the door."
Tiana smirked as she started mixing the dough that would eventually be formed into loaves. "It's your kitchen, I don't have the guts to tell you what you can and can't do."
"Well, you're gonna have to tell me something because while I can guess what goes into a Po-Boy, I figure you would know better."
Tiana smiled at me, lauding her culinary expertise and wasted no time giving direction, "It ain't that hard to get, just a sandwich with all your typical fixings, though instead of deli-cuts you usually use some fried seafood, shrimp, oysters, and lobster being the most common. That and some kind of French bread rather than an Italian-style sub. You also can't forget the remoulade."
"Is that a sauce?"
"Yep, just a mix of mayonnaise, creole mustard, creole seasoning, ketchup, lemon juice, hot sauce, and diced pickles." Tiana listed off without missing a beat, all while her hands were buried up to her elbows in flour as she started to knead the heavy dough, "Though if you have the specific mustard or seasoning, we can make something similar if-"
"Don't worry, I got them right here," I interrupted as I pretended to search through the shelves while I used my system to buy the specialized ingredients.
Tiana's hands paused as she looked over her disbelief, "Huh...what a coincidence."
A strange look appeared in Tiana's eyes, but before I could comment on it, the look vanished as she went back to mixing the dough. "Well then, you can make the remoulade and de-shell the lobster for frying."
I grinned, "Yes, Chef."
--Tiana--
My attention was split as I finished mixing the dough and poured it onto the well-floured counter. I should have been wholly focused on making the best damn food I could, after finally getting my shot. Ramon's Grill hadn't been the first or even fourth restaurant I had interviewed at, as they had all turned me down after learning I'd never been trained, much less set foot into a professional kitchen.
I had nearly given up when I stumbled across Ramon's ad online. Determined to make something of myself, I went to the address and found the charismatic owner to be nothing like what I expected.
He was young, maybe no more than a few years older than I, but there was a confidence to his every action that gave Ramon a sense of credibility and trustworthiness.
But the more time I spent around the man, the more I realized there was something far more dangerous at work. While I was no expert in the matter, no one growing up on the streets of New Orleans could avoid learning about the various spirits of Voodoo and the powers they held.
For the longest time, I had believed them to be nothing but fairy tales, until I came face to face with them and barely managed to escape with my soul. I would never forget the invisible yet tangible aura of power that radiated from the spirits, the same aura that surrounded Ramon, making him stand out like a beacon.
I don't know how I had missed it, and had I not, I most likely would have turned around and left without looking back. But now I could only pray that the Lwa in man's skin would let me leave.