Chapter 7: Meeting Him Again
Outside the office, Tamara found a dark spot near the kitchen. She pulled out her phone and sent a text message to her best friend, Erica Mercer, telling her all over again about the bad things that had happened that day. "Erica, you won't believe the day I'm having! One disaster after another. I'll fill you in later."
Erica replied to her message. It read: "Don't worry. Keep yourself calm. I'm sure you can do your best."
Tamara was tempted to ask her friend whether her luck had taken a turn for the worse, leading to this string of misfortunes. However, she decided against it as she didn't want to seem weak or self-pitying.
Her fingers hovered across the screen as she sent the reply: "Thanks, Erica. I'll do what I can to make it through this day."
She let out a loud snort, and her sudden appearance from the dark corner scared a maid who was sitting at a table close to the kitchen door. The maid jumped in her chair, which fell over, sending her to the ground. The girl was trying to grab the edge of the table, but her hand ended up reaching a pot in front of her.
Unfortunately, the pot was not a good choice for a handle.
The girl yanked the pot from the table, causing her chair to slide off and crash to the floor. As the chair, the servant girl, and the pot all toppled onto the ground, they all made a lot of noise. This sudden noise caught the attention of everyone in the kitchen, and they were all stunned for a moment.
Tamara ran quickly toward the girl on the ground, but the girl's sharp look made Tamara stop in her tracks. She quickly took a step backward.
The girl's face turned bright red as she took a deep breath and cleaned up the mess she had made. As she was getting ready to leave, Tamara saw her swing the pan menacingly toward her, with an angry look on her face.
"Sorry," Tamara whispered with an embarrassed smile, cringing at the awkward situation she had made.
She remembered an old saying, when you make bad things happen to other people, you understand you are the most careless and unlucky person.
Putting the embarrassing event out of her mind, she continued her work in the bustling restaurant. Despite her resolve to stay focused and avoid any more mishaps, she couldn't shake the feeling that her streak of bad luck might not be over just yet.
Tamara couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the restaurant manager, Ronan, as she carried trays of hot food and drinks through the crowded dining area. His eyes seemed to follow her, and she couldn't resist the feeling that he was watching for any mistakes. The conversation they had in his office earlier was still bothering her, and she knew she had to prove herself.
The restaurant buzzed with chatter and the clatter of dishes, creating a chaotic backdrop that made it difficult for her to concentrate. She was concerned about a lot of different things as she dealt with problems inside and outside the restaurant.
With each order successfully delivered and each table she cleared, she hoped that her day would take a turn for the better. But little did she know that the day had more surprises and challenges in store, and her resilience would be put to the test once again.
In the middle of all the hustle and bustle, things kicked up a notch when a bunch of high-profile folks strolled in, making people look around and creating a bit of a scene.
In the next few seconds, the restaurant was in full swing, with the waiters scurrying around to keep up with the bustling crowd. Plates clinked, conversations buzzed, and orders flew in from every direction. It was a non-stop whirlwind of activity, and Tamara was right in the middle of the clutter, moving trays, writing down orders, and doing her best to keep the customers happy.
Amidst the madness, she barely had time to take a breath. As she moved from table to table, she could feel sweat running down her temples. Just when she thought things couldn't get any more hectic, a voice boomed over the restaurant, calling her name. "Tamara!"
When she turned over, she saw that Ronan was calling for her. It was like a short break from the storm, and Tamara hurried over to see what he needed.
"Yes, Ronan, what's up?" She walked over and tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, even though the place was very crowded.
"We've got some VIP guests in the private room who are in desperate need of some help. I need you to head on over there and take care of whatever they need."
"Sure thing. I'll do my best. Just one question, who are the VIPs and what can I do to make sure they have a great experience?"
Ronan leaned in slightly and whispered, "The guests are from the World Technology Advancement Council and they're still waiting for the chairman to arrive. They're important people, and we want to make a good impression on them. Make sure their orders are perfect, and if they need anything else, don't hesitate to help. This could mean a lot for our reputation."
"Sure thing. I'll just go to the VIP room really quick and make sure everything goes perfectly."
As she turned to leave, Ronan called out to her again. His voice sounded urgent as he said, "Tamara, please remember. Make sure everything goes perfectly, and don't let anything go wrong. We're short-handed today, so I'm counting on you to handle this."
After giving him a quick nod, she quickly made her way to do her task. She knew it was important to give these important people excellent service.
Her heart was pounding nervously as she stood in front of the ornate door to the VIP room. She knocked softly and waited for permission to enter.
As the door opened, she stepped into the luxurious room, where the soft hum of conversation abruptly stopped. All eyes turned toward her.
Stay calm, Tamara. You can handle this. Just focus on giving the best service to these VIP guests, she thought to herself.
Her heart was racing but she forced herself to stay cool. She managed a nice smile and a small nod to the VIP guests, who were all paying attention to her.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'll be here to assist you with anything you may need during your visit. Please feel free to let me know how I can make your evening more enjoyable," she spoke with a polite tone.
Two of the men glanced at each other, exchanging brief, cryptic smiles that made Tamara feel like an outsider to some inside joke.
When she came over to take their orders, one of them leaned back in his chair and didn't seem to care, saying, "Just bring me whatever's good, darling. Surprise me."
The other man nodded in agreement and added, "Same for me. Surprise us."
Another man, who seemed engrossed in conversation with his companions, gave a casual wave of his hand without looking up. He merely pointed to the menu and mumbled, "I'll have the pasta."Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive © material.
A lady at the corner of the table simply nodded, her attention more focused on her companions. She barely spared her a glance, her expression distant as she placed her order, "Just a salad for me."
Their reactions were pretty indifferent and detached, which added to her challenges. Some of them barely acknowledged her, while others just ordered without much enthusiasm. It was clear that giving great service in this situation wouldn't be a walk in the park. She had to keep her cool and handle this task with grace and professionalism.
She made sure that everything went smoothly by writing down each VIP guest's preferences and passing on their orders to the kitchen. She carefully watched over the preparation of each dish, making sure that they met the high standards expected from this restaurant.
As the guests enjoyed the wonderful foods that she had chosen for them, their initial lack of interest turned into contentment. Their faces changed from disinterested to grateful, and they even made light talk about the food.
Letting out a sigh of relief when she saw that they had finished eating, Tamara knew that she had turned the situation around and given them a great meal. Even though it was a small success in an otherwise chaotic day, she felt proud and accomplished.
Tamara was about to leave the VIP room when a strong, confident voice called out from the door. The person who had just entered the room greeted everyone casually, "Hey, everyone! I hope you're all having a good time. What's the latest buzz here?"
Her heart sank when she thought it might be the chairman of WTAC.
When she turned around to see, she found herself face to face with a familiar, ruthless face that sent shivers down her spine.
Damn! That scoundrel Judson Beauregard! What is he doing here?