Chapter 171: Overlapping Shadows (2)
Chapter 171: Overlapping Shadows (2)
In general, the duties of an apprentice who had only recently entered a kitchen were simple: prepare ingredients, clean the kitchen, and carry out whatever tasks the chefs or prep cooks assigned. Because most apprentice work consisted of chores, many people assumed it was a waste of time, but that was not true.
Preparing ingredients taught an apprentice how to distinguish one ingredient from another, how to judge its condition, how it should be prepared, and how it needed to be stored. Since much of that preparation required a knife, their dexterity naturally improved as well. Beyond that, watching the other chefs work and responding to the orders constantly being thrown their way helped an apprentice understand the flow of a professional kitchen and the timing required to keep everything moving smoothly.
Of course, that applied to a kitchen already in operation. Rose Island was still preparing for its reopening, so there were no customers to send the kitchen into a frenzy. Even so, no one was simply sitting around relaxing. Rachel was busy re-establishing relationships with suppliers she had not contacted in ten years, while the demi-chefs and prep cooks were occupied with familiarising themselves with the recipes she had given them.
Because of that, Justin, the apprentice who should normally have been the busiest person in the kitchen, had somehow become the one with the most free time. There simply was not enough active cooking for him to be constantly assigned ingredient preparation, and there were few miscellaneous jobs demanding his hands. All he could really do was clean a kitchen he had already polished until everything gleamed and spend the rest of his time observing the people around him.
And there was one thing his observations made increasingly obvious.
…Did something happen to Minjoon recently?
Jo Minjoon was normally calm and gentle, but because he was polite and straightforward to the point of seeming scholarly, he could sometimes come across as stiff. There were even moments when he resembled some kind of food-tasting machine, accurately identifying whatever entered his mouth without much visible emotion. Lately, however, he had been completely different. Perhaps something good had happened, because he seemed unusually happy and occasionally smiled to himself for no apparent reason.
Justin clearly was not the only one who had noticed. During lunch that day, Rachel looked at Jo Minjoon and asked,
“Minjoon, you seem very happy lately. Is it because you’ve finally realised that you’re officially a chef now?”
“Do I really look that happy?”
“Yes. Extremely,” Lisa answered. “Someone might think you’d won the lottery.”
At Lisa’s response, Jo Minjoon quietly rubbed the right side of his neck. Beneath the collar of his chef’s coat, he could feel the unfamiliar texture of the burn scar hidden there. Most people would probably regard an injury like that with regret, but Jo Minjoon did not. To him, it felt almost like a thread of fate connecting him to Kaya.
Anderson clicked his tongue.
“Apparently, he’s seeing Kaya today.”
“Kaya… THAT Kaya?!”
The excited shout did not come from Lisa. Justin, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, suddenly raised his voice with a look of disbelief.
Jo Minjoon nodded, unable to hide his bright expression. “I’m meeting her today. She said she’ll be in Los Angeles pretty often for the next few months.”
“…I don’t like that panda lady.”
At Jo Minjoon’s answer, Ella grumbled sulkily.
Jo Minjoon had to think for a moment before understanding what she meant by ‘panda lady’. Perhaps it was because of Kaya’s smoky eye make-up. Lisa gave Ella a stern look, while Jo Minjoon tried to soothe her.
“Kaya will like you. She really likes cute children like you.”
“What’s cute about me? There’s nothing cute about me. I’m all grown up.”
Despite saying it as though she disliked being called cute, Ella soon started smiling anyway.
Javier, who had been listening from nearby, leaned towards Jo Minjoon.
“Minjoon, can I ask you a somewhat personal question?”
“No.”
“…Don’t people usually ask what the question is before refusing?”
“It’s obvious what you’re going to ask.”
Jo Minjoon answered with an expression that plainly said he knew exactly what was going through Javier’s mind. Perhaps feeling slightly guilty, Javier raised both hands.
“Then I’ll ask something else. That should be fine, right?”
“Fine. Ask.”
“Are you two dating?”
“…Javier.”
Jo Minjoon’s expression instantly cooled.
Javier remained perfectly calm.
“What? I was originally going to ask something like who you thought the sous-chef would be.”
“Why would that be a personal question?”
“Because I would be asking for your personal opinion. That makes it a personal question.”
It was clearly an excuse, but annoyingly, it was convincing enough.
Jo Minjoon rested his thumb briefly against the scar on his neck before answering calmly.
“We’re not dating.”
It was not a lie. There was certainly something affectionate between the two of them, but they had never actually had the opportunity to establish that kind of relationship.
Javier accepted the answer without suspicion and nodded.
“You still have quite a few stages left to go through, then. Sounds like it’ll be fun.”
“Let’s talk about the sous-chef instead. Who do you think it’ll be?”
The change of subject could not have been more obvious, but by that point, there was no reason not to give Jo Minjoon an escape route. Javier smiled brightly.
“Rather than who will come, I think the real question is how many.”
“Teacher said she isn’t hiring a second chef, so the sous-chef will have to take on that role as well. If you think about that… maybe two?”
“I’m not sure. Janet.”
Javier called out to her.
Janet stopped eating the fruit pudding Lisa had made and turned her head.
Javier smiled mischievously. “Want to make a bet on how many sous-chefs we’ll get?”
“I don’t have money to gamble.”
“It doesn’t have to be money. Appetisers. We can decide who gets the section based on the bet.”
“…I’m fine with losing the station because my skills are lacking. I’m not fine with losing it because of luck. Find someone else to gamble with.”
The reply was cold, but Jo Minjoon found himself impressed. That one sentence revealed a great deal about Janet’s personality as a chef. Skill alone. She wanted everything to be decided by ability rather than chance. Perhaps that was an ideal mentality for a chef, though at the same time, it seemed like the kind of attitude that would never allow a person to relax.
Jo Minjoon leaned towards Anderson and whispered,
“That must be exhausting.”
“What?”
“Janet. Living with that much tension every day. I think it would be really difficult.”
“I can hear everything you’re saying.”
Janet did not even look up from her plate as she spoke.
Jo Minjoon stared at her in surprise. He had deliberately lowered his voice.
“…Your hearing is really sharp.”
“The weaker you are, the more carefully you listen. Like a rabbit.”
“Why are you weak, Janet?”
“I don’t know. It would be embarrassing to explain it myself.”
With that, Janet simply continued eating as though nothing unusual had been said. Perhaps she was used to remarks like that from the restaurant where she had worked before.
“…Now I feel awkward even though I didn’t say anything bad.”
Jo Minjoon grumbled and put a piece of ravioli into his mouth.
Janet had made it from scratch. Freshly made pasta absorbed sauce differently from dried or pre-made ravioli, and the sage-and-butter sauce made the pasta taste even softer. The filling of shrimp and lamb was rich, but the onion and herbs kept it from becoming greasy, allowing it to go down easily.
Jo Minjoon quickly forgot his discomfort and smiled.
“Janet, this ravioli is really good.”
“There’s nothing better than ravioli like this for an appetiser.”
Javier immediately cut in.
“Ooh, I’m so full. One bite and I’m already stuffed. It’s so filling that it would probably be better as a main course than an appetiser.”
That evening, Jo Minjoon headed towards the airport.
Even though it was the airport, it was practically nearby. The drive took only around twenty minutes.
Anderson was behind the wheel, grumbling the entire way.
“You should’ve brought an international driving permit. What is this? I’m not your chauffeur.”
(Translator’s Note: International Driving Permit (IDP) — An internationally recognised document that provides a multilingual translation of information contained in a valid domestic driving licence. Modern IDPs are based primarily on international road-traffic agreements including the 1949 Geneva Convention on Road Traffic and 1968 Vienna Convention on Road Traffic. An IDP supplements rather than replaces the holder’s domestic licence, and recognition rules vary by jurisdiction.)
“Even if I had one, once my work visa is approved, I won’t be able to keep using it. That’s what the law says. Once you become a resident, you have to get a local licence.”
“It’s not like you suddenly become a different person just because your immigration status changes. What kind of pointless law is that?”
“Why are you complaining? You get to see Kaya too.”
“I don’t want to get death glares for getting between the two of you.”
“I don’t think you’d get any death glares. At least not from me.”
“Hmph. Of course you wouldn’t.”
Despite grumbling, Anderson pressed down a little harder on the accelerator.
Jo Minjoon asked with some concern, “I didn’t tell her I was coming to the airport. What if I get there and she says she doesn’t even have time to talk?”
“Then tell her now. Ah, right. She’s on a plane, so she probably doesn’t have internet.”
“Well, if she really can’t meet me, I’ll just come back after seeing her face.”
“Ha. A forty-minute round trip just to see the face of a woman who isn’t even your girlfriend.”
“You too? And if you were the one arriving, I’d definitely come out to welcome you.”
Anderson could not decide how to react. Was he supposed to get goosebumps from how cheesy that sounded, or feel touched by the sentiment?
“…Just focus on wooing Kaya. You don’t need to do it to me too.”
He sounded exactly like a boy who could not be honest about being pleased.
Jo Minjoon merely smiled.
By the time they arrived at the airport, there were still about thirty minutes left before Kaya’s scheduled arrival.
Anderson looked at him before pulling away.
“I’m not coming back to pick you up. Actually… are you even coming back tonight? Maybe like what happened in Florence—”
“Stop teasing me. Anyway, thanks for bringing me. Is there anything you want me to tell Kaya? I’ll pass it on.”
“Tell her to lose some weight.”
“…That might be difficult.”
Anderson laughed, shifted gears, and drove away.
Inside the airport, travellers pushed luggage trolleys through the terminal while others stood waiting with signs in their hands. Jo Minjoon took out his phone.
[Me: Let me know when you land.]
[Kaya: I just landed. Why?]
[Me: You landed already?]
[Kaya: Yes. I’m at the airport. Why are you asking?]
[Me: I’m at the airport too.]
After he sent the message, no reply came for several minutes. It was almost as though her connection had suddenly disappeared.
Perhaps she was surprised.
Jo Minjoon was about to send another message when his phone rang.
It was Kaya.
He answered and immediately complained,
“Why did you suddenly stop replying? I thought something happened.”
[Who are you? Why did you suddenly appear?]
“I wanted to surprise you. Were you surprised?”
[If you’re going to surprise someone, at least show your face.]
“How am I supposed to find you when there are this many people?”
[My family could find me in a crowded market with hundreds of people.]
“That’s because they’re family.”
Silence immediately fell over the other end of the call.
Jo Minjoon could not see Kaya’s face, but he could easily imagine the sharp look she was probably giving nothing in particular right now. He chuckled.
“So where are you? Can you meet me now, or do you have somewhere you need to go?”
[It’s night. What would a chef have to do at this hour? Well, I do need to go to the hotel and unpack, but I can make my agent handle that. He works me hard enough, so he can at least do something like this for me.]
“So where are you?”
[Los Angeles Airport.]
“…I’m fairly sure there are at least a few thousand people here right now.”
[Come to the information desk. I’m wearing a white hoodie and jeans, with a mask and sunglasses.]
Jo Minjoon frowned.
What kind of outfit was that?
But when he reached the information desk and saw her for himself, he had to admit it looked every bit as strange as he had imagined.
He ended the call.
Kaya apparently had not noticed him yet, because she was still holding her phone to her ear.
“Hello? Hello? Huh? He hung up?”
“Kaya.”
“…Ah. You came.”
Kaya lowered her sunglasses slightly to make sure it was really him, then nodded.
Her voice was unusually rough.
Over the phone, Jo Minjoon had assumed the distortion came from the connection, but hearing her in person made it obvious that her voice was much hoarser than normal.
His expression immediately turned worried.
“Why are you dressed like that? No, forget the clothes. What’s with the mask and sunglasses? You’re not some celebrity. And why does your voice sound like that? Are you sick? Is it a cold? Is that why you’re wearing the mask? Did you take medicine?”
“Ah, enough with the nagging. Stop there. We haven’t seen each other in this long, and this is the mood you’re going with?”
“Mood?”
At Kaya’s words, Jo Minjoon slowly looked around.
Among the people passing by, several seemed to recognise him. Whether they recognised Kaya beneath the mask and sunglasses was harder to tell, but more than a few had already raised their phones and started taking pictures.
Still, he could not spend every moment worrying about other people watching.
Jo Minjoon reached out.
His fingers brushed over Kaya’s palm before slowly threading between hers.
Kaya looked at him.
With dark sunglasses covering her eyes and the mask hiding most of her face, Jo Minjoon had no way of knowing what expression she was making. Was she frowning? Smiling? Surprised?
The fabric of Kaya’s mask puffed slightly with her breath.
“…Don’t blame me if you catch my cold.”
Jo Minjoon tightened his fingers around hers.
“If I do, you can take care of me.”