"Do you think we should drop our bags in the car, then? Let’s shop for more items," she suggested.
"Yeah, let’s go." We went to the parking lot, dropped off our shopping bags, and returned to the event. No carts were available, and even if there were, it would’ve been almost impossible to move around with one—not when everywhere was so crowded.
"The lingerie store—let’s go there." I took Ruby to the store, and we got so many sexy clothes and underwear. After that, we moved to the next shop. I got two pairs of shoes, a pair of canvas shoes, and a pair of sneakers. I also bought two pairs of n’s shoes. We visited almost every store in the mall, even the jewelry shop; Ruby got earrings, bangles, and waist chains. After we beca tired, we decided to take a break.
"There’s a food truck at that corner; they serve free als to custors who have made purchases."
"A food truck? No, let’s go to a restaurant; there’s one close by."
"What if the competition starts while we’re gone? I don’t want that; I wish to win sothing."
"You’ve gotten many gifts from the stores: phone cases, stuffed animals, keychains, and a toy wristwatch. Aren’t you tired of gifts?"
"Why would I be tired of gifts?" She frowned.
"Let’s go to the food truck; let’s get fried spaghetti. I slled the aroma earlier and almost went to cloud nine. It slls so delicious, I might actually die if I don’t have a taste."
"Oh, so that’s what this is about. You should’ve just been honest from the start." I rolled my eyes.
"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes as she dragged along.
"Welco, please join the line. We only serve spaghetti, but you can choose to have yours with roasted chicken or turkey. Before we serve you, we’ll need to see your purchasing card as proof. Please be patient as we work to bring you the tastiest spaghetti you’ve ever had," a chef announced when we arrived.
We joined the long line, and it was our turn sixteen minutes later. Waiting so long made frustrated, but after tasting the spaghetti, my eyes brightened, and all my frustration flew out of the window.
I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Ruby beat to it. "Why does it taste so good?" she moaned.
"I an, I knew it would taste good from the aroma, but I never knew it would taste this good."
We both dug into our als; I finished mine in two minutes, and she devoured hers in three.
"Ruby," I called, staring at her.
"What?" She looked at .
"I need more."
She blinked. "You need what?"
"I need more; I’m still hungry." I touched my stomach to show her what I ant.
"I was about to say the sa thing."
"Do you think they’ll serve us a second portion if we ask?"
"We won’t know until we ask. Let call him." She called the chef who had welcod us earlier, and he ca over.
She lifted her plate. "Can we get a second serving?"
"Uh, I’m afraid not, miss," he refused, shaking his head.
"Why?" We asked at the sa ti.
"The ingredients are about to finish, and we still have more people to serve," he explained.
I gulped. "So you need more ingredients? Can’t you ask soone to get them for you?"
"Uh, we can’t. We may have to shut down and get the ingredients before we resu since it’s just us."
"Will you close down after the ingredients run out?"
"Possibly. We haven’t discussed it, but we might. There are still many people who haven’t visited our truck; we didn’t expect there would be such a crowd."
"You’re right. I didn’t expect it either."
"So when will the ingredients run out?"
"I don’t know, maybe after...fifteen more servings," he estimated.
"We could help you with it; we really need another portion," Ruby offered.
"Yes," I agreed.
He hesitated. "I’ll discuss it with the head chef and see what he says. I’ll be back after talking with him."
He went to the chef making the spaghetti, and they talked for about three minutes; then he returned to us. "I’m afraid it won’t be possible; we can’t allow custors to help us, but we’ve decided to restock. We’ll close down after the ingredients run out, restock, and then resu business," he explained.
"Ohhh," we both said, shaking our heads at the sa ti.
He chuckled. "But there’s a condition attached to the second serving."
"What condition?"
"You’ll have to pay. If you want a second serving, you’ll have to pay. We made these rules to create more circulation and reduce unfairness in food distribution."
"Oh, that’s not a problem; we’ll pay."
"Alright then, co back in three hours." He collected our plates and left.
**
"The spaghetti was so good," I murmured.
"I can still taste it in my mouth. The aroma—everything was great," Ruby said.
"I wish he could beco my chef; I want to eat this at least twice a week," I murmured.
"Maybe you should employ him, then," she suggested.
I snapped my gaze to her. "Do you think it’s possible?"
"Maybe. If you offer him a huge amount of money, it might be possible," she said.
"You’re right, absolutely. And if he doesn’t agree to be a house chef, I’ll make a different offer; I’ll ask him to visit the house once a week or whenever I request, and I’ll pay him handsoly."
"You’re right! Let’s go to him."
"Do you think we can still find them?"
"I don’t know, let’s hurry." We rushed back to the truck and found it closed.
"They’re gone," I sighed.
"No, look, they’re at the entrance," she pointed out.
We went to them and stopped them before they could leave.
"I have a proposal for you," I began. After stating my proposal, the head chef asked his first question.
"How much will you pay?"
"How much do you want?"
"Can you pay fifty thousand a month?" he asked.
"Fifty? Sure!" I agreed.
The head chef and his assistant exchanged glances, surprised that I agreed to his terms.
"You will pay fifty thousand?"
"Yes."
"Give us a minute." They stepped away from us and conversed; after their discussion, they returned.
The head chef cleared his throat and smiled. "I’m afraid I can’t accept being an in-house chef. I might be able to visit if you request once or twice a month, but that will be my limit. I love cooking for the public; there’s a certain joy that cos from it."
"Why don’t you open a restaurant, then?" Ruby asked sharply. "I’m guessing you can’t open one because of money. She’ll sponsor you to open a restaurant. Since you love cooking for the public, I’m sure this offer will appeal to you more," she suggested.
"Really? Actually, I’d love that more," he smiled.
"Yes, he has been dreaming of owning a restaurant; we’d appreciate it," the assistant chef added.
"Alright then, this is my card. Why don’t we set up a date and et?" I gave my card to the head chef, and he accepted it, but a frown settled on his face after he looked at the card.
Before I could ask what the problem was, he returned the card to . "I can’t do business with a Sebastian," he said, and imdiately walked away.
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