Chapter 73

MILA

After seeing Alexandra’s negative reaction to the dish, I did the first thing I could think of.

I ran frantically into the kitchen and called Samara. I knew she had previously worked with Alexandra, and she might have some insight into how to improve the situation that was rapidly heading downhill.

Thankfully, she picked up.

“Mila!” she exclaimed. “What a pleasure to hear from you! Aren’t you a little busy, though? Isn’t tonight your grand opening? I’m coming tomorrow and I’m just so excited–”

“Samara,” I said, hating to cut her off but knowing she would talk for hours if I did not, “I need your help with something.”

She went quiet. “What’s wrong, Mila?”

“Alexandra Shea is here tonight and I think she hates the food,” I said, all in a rush.

Samara sounded concerned. “I read what she wrote about you on her blog. It was a bit harsh, even for her.”

“I really wanted to impress her tonight,” I said, my words coming out in a choked sob. “But I think I might have ruined everything.”

“Well, what did you serve her? Was anything over or undercooked?” Samara asked.

“Um, the house biscuits with the jam trio. You’ve had them, I think. I picked a Pinot Noir to go with it, but maybe–”

“Mila, Mila,” Samara said, gently stopping me in my tracks. “You’re the head chef of a restaurant. That means more than making good food. You must be observant, figure out what your customers are thinking just by looking. You’re a smart girl, Mila. You can come up with a solution.”

I frowned and peered around the corner of the kitchen again. Alexandra had eaten the biscuits and most of the jams, although the mango jam remained largely untouched. I watched as she spread a tiny amount on what was left of one biscuit and took a tiny bite.

Her face puckered and she put the mango jam back down.

It was like a lightbulb went off in my brain. I almost forgot I was still on the phone when I exclaimed, “She hates sour things!”

On the other end, Samara started laughing. “Well, there you have it. I’ve known Alexandra for many years and although she loves food, the one thing she hates more than anything in this world is sour flavors. She just never mentions it because she doesn’t want her personal preferences to interfere with her work.”

I could feel my knees give out from under me as I sank to the floor–in relief or despair, I couldn’t yet tell. “So I should just take away the sour items from the rest of the menu?”

“Sounds like it, kid,” Samara said. “Look, Alexandra’s tough, but she’s fair. Try to keep sour flavoring out of the rest of the stuff you serve her and she should be fine.”

I thought I might cry. “Thank you, Samara. That’s super helpful.”

“And Mila?”

“Yes?” I said, climbing back up to my feet.

“You’re an amazing chef. You got this.”

With that, Samara hung up.

I turned to Carla, who was looking at me anxiously.

“Any dish being served to Alexandra Shea from here on out cannot have any sour flavoring in it,” I told her. “She hates it. That’s why she was reacting poorly to the mango jam.”

Carla heaved a sigh of relief.

“That we can do,” she promised.

When I brought out the fresh apple salad for Alexandra’s next course, I made sure to keep a smile plastered on my face.

“Your salad course, Ms. Shea,” I said, with a great deal of circumstance.

She seemed relieved to have something other than the biscuits, and I gladly took the offending plate back to the kitchen.

The rest of the courses went smoothly, from what I could see: a pesto flatbread with wild mushrooms, my signature brisket with cornbread, and for dessert, a cinnamon pecan tart, served warm.

As the tart was about to go out, I stopped the plate.

“She likes sweet,” I said softly. “So let’s make hers extra sweet.”

Carla shot me a confused look but I simply scooped a small serving of vanilla ice cream on the side of her plate. The perfect blend of America and Fresonia, with just the right amount of personality.

Just like me and Felix.

After finishing her meal, Alexandra flagged me over.

“I noticed that my dessert was a bit different from everyone else’s,” she said softly.

I nodded. “I added ice cream to yours. Forgive me for saying, ma’am, but I got the impression that you have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

Alexandra smiled. “You would be right about that. It’s the sign of a good chef to pay attention to your customers. You’ve done a great job with this place,” she said simply. “Congratulations on opening. I’ll post my review tonight.”

Felix, who was sat for dinner with his parents, smiled at me as Alexandra left. I made my way over to their table, feeling a massive weight lift from my shoulders.

No matter what, I had tried my best. Whatever Alexandra had to say now was out of my hands.

“Was that her?” Felix asked as I approached their table. I could only manage a nod in response.

“Did she like it?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “But that’s not what I’m concerned about right now. How are you all enjoying your experience?”

Felix, Ivan, and Rowena spent the next five minutes showering me and the food with praise. I gave them each a quick hug before returning to the kitchen.

The rest of the night went smoothly–all of the staff reported high praise for the food and service, and I was pleased to see people leaving with full bellies and happy smiles. I made several boxes of food for the poor guards who were standing by all night, and they seemed grateful to have the food they had been smelling for hours.

Once the last guest finally left, I allowed myself a good cry.

I had done it. Sea and Sky was open, and even if it failed spectacularly, I had achieved this moment.

Felix was waiting for me outside the restaurant as I closed up.

“She posted her review,” he said as I approached.

I could not tell from his tone if this was a good thing or a bad thing. I reached for his phone, my hands trembling.

Sea and Sky, the latest restaurant on the Fresia Strip, opened to a full house tonight. The Head Chef is future princess Mila Benson, who is involved in every step of the dining experience, “from preparation to presentation.”

I looked up at Felix. “She included my quote!”

He smiled. “Keep reading.”

And what food it is. Every course comes with an expert wine pairing and a ton of flavor. Even the pickiest eater will be happy here, with dishes ranging from a Fresonian flatbread to an American brisket. It is easy to tell that Miss Benson poured her heart and soul into this food, and it is some of the best food I’ve ever had in my life. Not only is she an excellent chef, but she provides stellar customer service from start to finish. Sea and Sky has a warm and inviting atmosphere with stellar service and phenomenal cooking. Everyone should dine here at least once in their lives. Five stars from this reviewer. Congratulations, Mila.

I couldn’t help myself–I started to sob. Big tears rolled down my cheeks. The tension of the evening had finally released from my body.

Felix easily scooped me up and lifted me into the car.

“Shall we celebrate at home?” he whispered into my ear.

And celebrate we did.

The next day, I was surprised to see Samara waiting at the front door for me to arrive.

“Samara!” I exclaimed, running over to give her a hug. “I thought your reservation wasn’t until dinner.”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t wait to see you and congratulate you in person. I saw Alexandra’s review.”

I beamed at her. “Thanks to her kind words, we’re now booked out for six months.”

Samara smiled even wider. “You, my dear, have a hit on your hands. I couldn’t be more proud.”

I felt my eyes fill with tears once again.

“Thank you, Samara,” I said softly. “Not just for your kind words, but for looking out for me since I moved here. I don’t know if I can ever express my gratitude enough for what you’ve done for me.”

She smiled crookedly, as if she was fighting tears of her own.

“I see so much potential in you, Mila,” she said. “You’re not just a remarkable chef. You’re a remarkable person, too.”

I stepped aside to unlock the door.

“Would you like to come in?” I asked. “I know your reservation isn’t until later, but I would really love to give you a personalized, private dining experience.”

Samara smiled and sat in the bay window booth.

“I would like nothing more.”