Chapter 7
MILA
Felix was here. I swear the stone around my neck heated at the thought.
Samara walked over to my station and frowned.
“Why are you chopping vegetables?” she asked. Fiona quickly interjected.
“It’s only her second day, Samara. She needs time before she’s ready to do anything else.”
Samara waved her off. I smiled to myself behind the mask.
“I hired her to make some changes to our menu,” Samara said. “Prince Felix has heard that we are incorporating new ingredients into our dishes and taking a fusion approach moving forward. He wants to come sample the menu himself. They are considering our restaurant for an upcoming royal banquet. I assume I do not need to stress to either of you what an opportunity that would be for all of us.”
A royal banquet would raise Samara’s Place to the most coveted reservation in the country. It would be a tremendous honor. And to think, I could play a role in that.
“Now, Miya, do you have any ideas for changes?” Samara looked at me expectantly. Before I could speak, Fiona cut in.
“I can do it, Samara!” Fiona was practically drooling at the opportunity. “I think we should use red onions instead of green onions on our spring salad. That will be just the change the Prince is looking for!”
Samara stared at Fiona. Firmly, she said, “No.” She turned to me.
“What are your ideas, Miya?”
I swallowed.
“There are a few changes that could be made to the menu,” I said, “but one that has really been on my mind is the lemon pie. I picked up some prickly pears on my way in this morning, and I thought that the juice would add an excellent sweetness to the pie.”
Samara raised her eyebrows. “Prickly pears, you say?”
I nodded. “I know they are the national fruit of Fresonia.”
Beside me, Fiona huffed.
“What do you know about prickly pears? Our lemon pie is perfect. We don’t need some nobody from America messing with it!”
“I had a prickly pear and lemon tart at the restaurant I owned in America,” I explained.
“It was a huge hit. My most popular dessert by far. I think it would be really successful here as well.”
Samara grinned. “Consider it done. Can you get a pie done before Felix will want dessert?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
Samara turned to Fiona. “Finish chopping those vegetables.”
She floated off to the dining area again. Fiona glowered at me. I ignored her and went to work.
The juice of the prickly pear was a dark pink, almost red in color, and smelled like sunshine. Samara’s lemon pie was already delicious, but this extra addition would only make it more so. I tuned out the rest of the kitchen as I carefully whipped the juice into the fragile lemon filling, watching the pink and yellow swirl together in a beautiful rainbow.
Samara tried the first bite.
“This might be,” she said through a mouth full of pie, “the most delicious dessert I’ve ever had. Wow. Thank you, Miya.”
Even the mask couldn’t contain my joy.
I was cleaning my work station when Samara came back into the kitchen.
“Prince Felix loved the pie so much that he wants to meet the person who created it,” she said. Next to me, Fiona straightened her apron and smiled.
“As Miya’s supervisor, I am more than happy to take this responsibility,” she said.
Samara rolled her eyes.
“No, he asked specifically for Miya,” she said. “You will come as a representative of the salad changes.”
My pulse quickened. Felix couldn’t see me–even with my mask, he might still recognize me as Fresonia’s most wanted fugitive. What was I going to do?
