4 A Dinner with the Chef

Eva's expectations were not met by the basic procedures that the restaurant staff should have properly conducted, particularly right in front of her.

The chef must be held accountable for everything, thus the choice is made to call him out.

Moreover, she had no notion whatsoever, even at first, that she would run into someone so familiar.

It doesn't seem like a coincidence; it seems like fate.

So, without hesitation, the chef exited the kitchen and proceeded to Eva's table.

"It's you," Eva stated as soon as she caught a glimpse of the familiar face.

His courteous greeting and his plump cheeks that made him adorable when he smiled, even showing his dimples that creased right below his eyes, brought all the memories back.

Eva observed his strong and noticeable jawline, in addition to his dimples. Her gaze moved from his head to his toes. His physique is average for a chef, as he is neither lean nor bulky.

He grew up so well.

Barron hesitated for a moment before an unexpected memory occurred to him. However, he still managed to respond in a professional manner.

"Let me personally welcome you to The Cavalry. I hope you are having a good time."

"I doubt that," the woman responded.

Barron sat at the same table as Eva to discuss her concerns about the earlier services. 

"Tell me what you find unacceptable about the dish you specifically requested." The chef was on his back, comfortably leaning on the chair.

Barron maintained a strong personality to protect his business.

He has been groomed to be virtually flawless when it comes to attitude and personality, especially when dealing with other people, because he was born into a conservative household.

But he was actually worried.

Because, for heavens' sake, it's Evangelia Fraulein in front of him.

She had a different upbringing. Not because her parents wouldn't want her to be conservative, but because she was given the power to make her own decisions at such an early age about what was right and wrong.

In short, she could be unpredictable in every way.

"I don't like it... and it's because you made it," Eva insulted him. "I don't necessarily mean you when I say chef's recommendation."

Even though Barron was about to lose it, he smiled. "Then you should have been more specific, Ms. Fraulein."

"I prefer to be called Ev—"

"How about we do this, Eva?" Barron asked, abruptly irritating Eva by interrupting her speech. "We haven't spoken like that since, and it's been a while since we last crossed paths."

She exhaled as she kept listening to him. He would be quickly discovered dead if only her eyes could pierce him.

"Why don't we just keep it that way?"

"Do you really believe that the only reason I'm here, sitting directly in front of you, is to make friends with you?" she asked him, then shook her head. "No, Barron."

"Although I am well aware that it is your responsibility to provide critique, your treatment of my team was unreasonable. Due to your dislike for the business owner, you disregarded their efforts to provide you with a service that was close to ideal," Barron confronted her.

"You don't get to tell me how to do my job," Eva responded, feeling insulted.

The chef sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest before looking away from her.

"In order to accomplish your job as a food critic, you must not only eat but also evaluate taste, and developing this expertise is a constant process."

They continued to stare at each other, attempting to anticipate what would be coming next for them. Only the unforgettable memories, though, were visible in each other's eyes.

"We pretty much know each other inside and out, Evangelia. Did you forget?"

Her gaze quickly shifted focus from him and toward the dishes that were placed in front of her.

She hesitated, but as she reflected on what the chef had said, she realized it was improper for her to let the past control her.

Eva put down the pen she was holding to grab a hold of the fork and cutlery as Barron watched how she professionally and formally began her dinner, leaving a small smile on his face.

The chef gathered his crew in the kitchen and the dining area for a quick discussion as the restaurant's service ended for the night. 

"I hope everyone learns their lesson for tonight," he said. "May it be a lesson for you while Evangelia Fraulein is still existing."

The same young waiter raised his hand as everyone glanced at him.

"Yes?" Barron pointed at him.

"Chef, I would like to know the mistake I have made."

Marie nodded, her attention shifting back from the waiter to Barron. "Her words baffled us. We did everything we could to accommodate her needs."

"What do you think it is about?"

Everyone concocts an adequate response. But, it appears that no one understands it. There are numerous possibilities for things to go wrong for Eva.

"What did she point out?" the chef continued.

"The wine glass," Marie replied.

Barron pointed at her. "Correct. What did you notice?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, we pour wine in the usual serving size—"

"You have your answer." Barron pointed out again. "If you really know who Eva is, you'll know what she meant when she pointed out the wineglass."

Everyone remained confused.

"Eva prefers the serving of two ounces of wine or the tasting size," Barron continued. "All the restaurants know that... except for us, I'm afraid." 

"Why didn't you tell us ahead, chef?" the young waiter questioned, slightly disappointed.

"It is not my job to tell you someone's dining preferences. In this field, you are on your own. Although you may notice we are a team, the performance grading is individual. Keep that in your mind," Barron explained.

They may be silent on the outside, but they are all enraged on the inside. They realized that being carried away by anger would be detrimental to both parties.