Saturday, July 20th, 2013
I approach the head of the pass, coming to a stop beside Gordon. Rather than feeling elated as I normally do standing next to him, anxiety titters away in the back of my mind. Am I standing too close? What if I look at him too adoringly? Or touch him accidentally? I bow my head, fingers lacing together nervously.
"(Y/N)?"
I force myself to look at Gordon.
"You've done this before, darling. Do your best and remember what we discussed last time. Read and re-read the tickets, make sure everyone is working, keep up with the times, and plate just as I show you, alright?"
"Yes, Chef," I respond, only managing to look into his eyes for a moment before tearing my gaze away. I have to concentrate, and letting myself get worked up over how I'm looking at him certainly won't help things. Why did he call me darling? He knows what that does to me! If only he wasn't so goddamn handsome, if only his presence wasn't so commanding, if only I couldn't see his love for me every time I lock eyes with him... then, maybe, I could focus.
"Make sure you choose someone competent to take over your fish station. Decide where you want everyone while I get the plates set up."
I look out into the kitchen. Taylor didn't get a chance to show her skill with the meat station since Gordon called her up before apps were over, so it seems like now would be a good chance to let her on it. "Taylor, take over meats, please. Abel, fish if you would? And Bella, stay on garnish."
As badly as Bella did during her time as Head Chef, I don't need her to mess up the service any further. The way I see it, keeping her on garnish offers the fewest chances of slowdowns in the kitchen.
"Yes, Chef!" They shout back to me, drawing a smile to my face.
"Call out the next ticket, and afterward I'll show you how to plate," Gordon says, handing me a ticket from the pass.
I read it over three times before I think about calling it out.
"On order, table five. Five top, I need two Wellies, two salmon, and one lamb. How long on that?"
"Twelve minutes, Chef," Taylor says after a quick discussion with Abel.
"Alright, twelve minutes. Now, watch what I'm doing for each of these plates because the lamb is the only other plate I'm going to show you once it gets here," Gordon says.
I watch as he meticulously plates the Wellington, remembering how we'd plated the Wellington we'd made together. I've got that down for sure, there's no way I'm forgetting anything about that experience. Next, he pulls the New York strips to the side.
"Check these for doneness and let me know what you think."
I touch the steak lightly.
"Cooked perfectly, but somewhat cold."
"Well, don't tell me, hand it off to your meat station," Gordon says with a smirk. I take it sheepishly and call out to Taylor.
"Yeah, Chef?" She asks, looking up from the cutting board.
"Can you heat these back up? They are a little cold. Please hurry, our Wellingtons are ready to go!"
"Shoot, alright!" Taylor rushes to the front, grabbing the tray and winking at me before heading back to the grill. She heats them in a cast iron pan for a minute on each side before bringing them back up with the temperature now perfect.
"Thanks, Tay."
"'Course, m'lady Chef." She curtsies before leaving.
Gordon shows me how to plate the rest of the meals, which I send out the moment they're ready. I turn, looking out into the kitchen to make sure everyone is working. Strangely, Abel seems to be searching for something. Should I go see what he needs since it was my station, or stay at the front since there are only a few minutes left before they will bring the food up?
With a quick glance at Gordon, who is watching Christina's team, I decide to be proactive and check what Abel needs. I head into the kitchen and to Abel, who looks up from where he's crouching in front of the cupboard beside the stove with a smile when I approach.
"Everything OK? Did I leave everything where it's supposed to be?" I ask.
"Yes, Chef, you did. Sorry to draw you over, I have everything I need now," he says, standing and looking over his two cooking salmon.
"Alright, glad there are no problems," I say before heading back to the front. I know he had to be doing something, but I trust him to have told me if he needed anything or if something was wrong.
Abel follows a minute later with his beautifully cooked salmon, and Taylor brings up her meat after him. Bella, however, is still furiously working at the garnish station when she should have brought up her garish before Abel or Taylor.
"Bella, what's taking so long?" I ask.
She doesn't respond.
"Bella, hello?" I say a bit louder, to no response.
I walk over to her station and look down at her stove, where she's got garnish for all five of the dishes on, none of them looking done.
"What's going on here, Bella?" I ask.
She looks up at me, tears in her eyes. "I have to go to the bathroom so bad, (Y/N), so I couldn't concentrate on the garnish and then I burnt everything, so I put it all in the garbage and then I ran out of potatoes so I had to peel some more and-" She takes a few rapid breaths, cutting off her sentence.
"If you need to go just tell me, I'm sure any of the others would be happy to hold your station for you. There's no need to stress yourself over it," I say. "Taylor, would you finish Bella's garnish so she can go to the restroom?"
"On it, Chef!" Taylor salutes then rushes to Bella's stove, taking over.
"Thanks, (Y/N)," Bella says before rushing out of the kitchen to the bathroom.
When I reach the front again, Gordon nods at me.
"Excellent work handling Bella and being aware that she needed something. Always keep your team on track just like that," Gordon praises.
I duck my head, smiling at his compliment but trying to keep my expression off the cameras. "Thank you, Chef."
"No, thank you, Chef," he says, nudging my side with his elbow playfully.
When Taylor delivers the garnish a minute later, Gordon shows me how to plate the lamb beautifully and I follow up with plating the Wellies and salmon after checking over them to make sure they are still warm enough.
Bella returns after I call the next ticket and looks much more composed, which she proves when she brings up the next ticket's garnish perfectly made and on-time.
"Nicely done, Bells," I compliment her, receiving a beaming smile in return.
"Thanks, (Y/N). And thanks for not getting mad earlier."
"I know how hard it is to concentrate when you really have to go, it's no problem," I say, waving a hand dismissively.
"But even so, thanks," she says sincerely. As she's about to head back to her station, Gordon stops her.
"Your thanks is all well and good, but call (Y/N) 'Chef' while she's leading the pass. A show of respect goes a long way," he says firmly.
"Y-yeah, OK Chef. Thanks, Chef. You, Chef, I mean. Chef (Y/N)," she trips over her words before awkwardly leaving the pass.
"I get that your crew are your friends, but you must demand respect from them or they'll think they can get away with things, yeah?" Gordon reminds me. I meet his eyes for the second time since being called up and nod once.
"Yes, Chef. I understand."
His eyes gleam. "Good girl. Let no one disrespect you."
I struggle to maintain eye contact and nod again, breathing an inward sigh of relief when he releases me from the hold of his deep blue gaze.
After I call a few more tickets, I peer curiously into Christina's kitchen when I hear her shouting. Somehow her well-oiled crew seems to have fallen behind, and three tickets are piled up at the pass. I look giddily at our two tickets and thank God that we haven't had more than a few easily resolved mishaps with missing salt or slightly under-cooked meat since Bella's garnish incident.
"You did well, love," Gordon starts as I look to him. "I'm going to call Abel up. Wait here so he can assign you to a station, alright?"
"Yes, S-Chef," I catch my slip of the tongue with enough tact that 'Sir' melds with 'Chef' while sounding like a slight lisp. Gordon seems to have caught on, as his lip tugs upward when he turns to the kitchen.
"Abel, come on up here," he commands, gesturing toward the pass.
"Coming, Chef," Abel says, wiping his hands on a towel before heading to us.
"You're last up, handling our last batch of tickets and getting desserts out. Ready?" Gordon asks.
"Of course, Chef," Abel responds coolly.
"Decide everyone's stations, and also who will handle desserts if you would."
Abel looks to me with a small smile. "Would you mind handling the meat station?"
I nod. "Not a problem, Chef."
As I head to my station, Abel assigns Taylor to fish and Bella to handling desserts after she finishes her garnish. I guess he doesn't trust her on any of the more easy to mess up stations either.
Taylor left the meat station in good working order, with a few resting New York strips already prepared. I look over at the fish station, where Taylor checks over everything carefully before standing at attention, waiting for Abel to read the ticket.
Bella, realizing the implications of being stuck on the garnish station, keeps a sour expression on her face as Abel calls out three New York, one Wellington, and three salmon for a seven-top table.
It is only after Abel quality checks the food we've brought up that Bella's fuse blows.
"What do you mean, not enough butter? I know how to make fucking mashed potatoes!" She screeches.
"Taste them and you'll see what I'm saying, Bella," Abel responds, offering her a clean spoon.
"Fuck that, you all hate me and you're worried I'd outshine you so you're treating me like shit!"
"Bella, that isn't the case..." Abel calmly starts.
"First (Y/N) then you keep me locked on the fucking garnish station, I knew you two were conspiring, always sneaking off places together. You probably aren't even really seeing each other, are you? It's all a show meant to get you two into the finals and sabotage the rest of us!"
Abel's face becomes stone as he stands motionless aside from his hand, which clenches into a fist around the spoon he'd offered her.
"You're giving me no chance to redeem myself, so fuck it!" Bella takes the pan of mashed potatoes from his other hand and throws it on the ground, slathering the floor in white mush before looking at Abel defiantly.
A fire burns in Abel's eyes. For once, Gordon stays off to the side with his arms crossed, regarding the situation with ravenous curiosity.
"Get. Out." Abel's voice is deeper and more visceral than I'd ever heard it, sending a chill down my spine. Taylor and I exchange worried glances before returning our eyes to the unfolding scene.
"No! I demand a better station so I can prove how good I am!" Bella says, stomping her feet like a child and oblivious to how close she has Abel to breaking. I wonder what he'd say if she pushed him over the edge? I've heard firsthand what he used to mentally break the woman accusing me at the airport, and that was after seeing her only a few times. He must have unfathomable amounts of ammunition to use against Bella.
"All you've proven is your inability to handle the most simplistic of tasks. I don't want to cause your baby undue stress by speaking my mind, so it's best you leave Bella. Last chance." His tone is low and dangerous.
"You can't make me leave Abel, only Chef Ramsay can," Bella huffs, turning her attention to the Chef.
"On the contrary, Bella, he's welcome to kick you straight off the show if he'd like. I warned you what would happen if you made another mistake. The way I see it, he's still following my orders." Gordon shrugs.
"Go upstairs, Bella. Now," Abel says with finality. I notice that there are no sounds coming from our kitchen or Christina's, as everyone has stopped to watch the drama.
Bella looks from Ramsay to Abel, behind her at the kitchen, and then back to Ramsay before whining. "Fine! I don't need this place or you," she cry-yells, pointing an accusing finger at Gordon before temper-tantrum trudging through the kitchen and up the stairs loudly.
When the proverbial smoke clears, Abel straightens his black jacket and looks sharply out into the kitchen. "(Y/N), would you mind heating the meats back up? Taylor, do the same for fish?"
"Oh! Yeah!" Taylor rushes to the front and grabs our trays, bringing my tray to me and raising her eyebrows in silent awe of what we'd witnessed. She whispers, "So Bella is..."
"A goner," I finish her sentence quietly as I re-heat the meats. Since there is nothing to plate, both his cooks are working, and Chef Scott is cleaning the spilled mash, Abel takes out a fresh pan for mashed potatoes and prepares them with intense concentration.
Dinner service flies by after Bella leaves, with Abel not only calling out tickets and plating the food but also calling either Tay or myself over to garnish when we have a free moment from cooking. If neither of us are free, he takes over garnish himself instead of asking Scott to do it. He has to be paying profound attention to our status in the kitchen to always know when we are available, and his astute observations keep us blowing through our tickets even with one fewer person than Christina's team.
When we reach the last ticket, Abel calls out an all fish order before capturing my attention. "(Y/N), would you get the desserts ready while Taylor and I finish this last ticket?"
"Easy, no problem Ch-"
"Hang on, can I help with desserts too?" A meek voice interrupts me. I turn to look at the source of the disturbance and find none other than Bella standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
"Please? I'm sorry for what I did earlier. I've been really anxious and depressed about my skills recently, and it all came out as bitchiness. I promise I'll be good," she pleads with Abel.
I glance at Abel, who is working four pans of garnish while listening to her appeal.
"Would you like an assistant to work with you on desserts, sweetheart?" He asks me over the kitchen clamor.
Bella turns her pleading gaze to me, her eyes full of hope. For a second I consider what she'd said about Abel and me conspiring, and the desire to deny her out of pure spite hits me. But I'm bigger than that, and she's already lost. "Fine, set out the glasses," I appease her.
She whoops before joining me, enthusiastically setting out the gelato glasses for our key lime dessert.
Dinner service concludes uneventfully, with everything getting out on time. Gordon claps his hands, drawing our eyes to the front of the kitchens where Christina and Abel stand at his sides.
"Well, after an eventful service I must say we've pulled through quite nicely," Gordon starts. "It was a close call, but there was a clear winner of today's service. Ready to hear who won?"
"Yes, Chef!" Both kitchens respond loudly.
Gordon looks into both kitchens before turning to me with a twinkle in his eye. "Congrats, Hell's Kitchen finalists. You've beaten the veterans at their own game. Minus a person for most of the end, at that. Excellently done!"
We cheer and Taylor runs into my side, wrapping me in her arms and bouncing up and down.
"Go on upstairs and spend some time together while Christina's team cleans up the kitchens. Stellar work, almost everyone." The incrimination in his tone focuses on Bella, who shrinks back from her celebrating.
Taylor and I wait for Abel to join us while Bella makes herself scarce up the stairs.
"Wow, that was crazy," Taylor says as we ascend the stairs together.
"It sure was, Bella went wild," I say.
"Glad you wrangled the beast, Abel," Taylor compliments.
"Trust me, she got on my last nerve. But her baby didn't deserve how the things I wanted to say would've made her feel," Abel remarks.
"We're lucky we won after her antics. So I say call her up after nine months and let her have it," Tay jokes.
"Not sure it's worth the long distance charges from the UK to the US," Abel responds with a wink.
"Wise guy, eh?" Taylor says playfully as we reach the top of the stairs, and the three of us settle on the couch together with no Bella in sight.
After sitting for a few seconds, a rush of anxiety starts from my toes and travels up my body to where my leg begins restlessly shaking. So much for being tired. Adrenaline is going to keep me up well into the night at this rate.
"Good luck, guys," Taylor says, leaning her head onto my shoulder. "I'll miss whichever one of you doesn't make it."
"We'll miss you too," Abel responds, gently caressing my leg to get it to calm down.
"I feel so jittery," Taylor says, closing her eyes and curling up against me. "And I can't do anything about it but wait."
"Let's wait as fast as we can, OK?" I say, drawing a giggle from Tay.
"Let's."