It was not casual that
Davidovich James ever, even for just in a while, thought about anything else
other than a cuisine he was preparing the time he prepared it. He was a very
focused person. He would not let any of his customers stepping inside his
restaurant in the downtown Edinburgh, or his anywhere, savouring a dish that
was cooked half-heartedly.
But today was strange,
such an exception.
He decided to take a
walk inside the dining chambers to see who were present. He signaled his sous
chef, Ferdinand, to watch over his roasted hare. He ordered Patricia to prepare
the garnish for two ordered salmon with sauteed mushroom and truffle dressing.
It was his sister, Ann.
He could not stop thinking about her.
Chamber Lord William.
Three tables occupied; The Montgomery couple, one of his most loyal customers
was there. They waved at him, and he didn't mind to come over and greet them
for a little, perhaps, comment.
'Good evening, Mr. and
Madame Montgomery... everything's fine so far? he kissed the Madame's hand.
'How about your favourite foie gras tonight, Sir?'
'Ah, young Chef, you
know that I will only complain about the size have I told you always that I am
craving for more!' Sir Montgomery chuckled and Dave smiled politely while
pouring him more wine.
Chamber Mary Jane. Such
a big dinner of old rich people seemed to be held; the long, white linen coated
table was fully occupied, and they were toasting for something like prosperity.
Dave would not want to bother them, so he sneaked silently as fast as he could
behind Roger, his big-figured servant carrying french buns and glasses of
champagne, to the Chamber of Fourier Delicatee.
About five tables were
occupied, and he was quite suprise to see Brilliant Bedliszt, his dual from the
Complex World--- sitting at one table on the corner, winking coquettishly at
him. He wore such a fine tux complete with a stick of rose on his right pocket,
a pair of polished black loafers, Dave just knew it that it must be hand
made---damn, he could see himself so fine with such outfit, he got to force him
to tell where on Earth did he make those shoes.
He disdainly(in a good
way)grabbed the menu out of Bedliszt' hand, faced him just a few inches from
Bedl's nose.
'Well, well,
gentleman...' he sighed, 'have we not signed the pact that each of our
mischieves would stay away from my professional job? You can not mess around
here, you see?'
I smelled roasted hare,
Bedliszt grinned.
Davidovich sighed. Okay,
fine, he replied. I'll have it to you rightaway, just---promise me you're not
gonna mess around, d'accord?
Davidovich was about to
turn his body back towards the kitchen when he noticed a middle-sized man
wearing a long, greyish coat seating himself at the table near the window.
Another distraction. Damn! He could not focus to his work by now, oh well... he
sighed, then made his way really for the kitchen this time. Annie, Annie... why
on Earth do you have to linger on my mind all the time?
Next order: 2 beef
wellingtons, truffles and carrots... Dave headed to the pantry,for some olive
oil, rushing so directloss he forgot he had people he could ask to take him
some. Oceans of ricottas, burratas, fetas, beefs, loins, truffles, mushrooms,
wines, and champagne and all sorts of vegetables greeted him; they which are
usually calming and relaxing suddenly looked menacing as a gigantic,
black-bat-liked shadow overcasted the entire area. Davidovich gasped, a glint
of shining emerald eyes looked straight upon his.
Davidovich, as his
reflex automatically reacted everytime he felt threatened, jumped to his feet,
and in no time the intruder was already on the floor.
I told you, stay away,
ever-- EVER from my work! hardly anyone would believe the threat came from Dave
the flamboyant guy, who smiled cheerfully beneath the sunlight on the shore of
California... those ocean-blue-eyes were glimmering so menacingly, shining much
similar to the gleam of the sabatier on his hand, ready to strike...
and thud!
The sabatier landed just
a few inches on the right of his opponent's left ear
... Brilliant Bedliszt
himself.
The Prince of la monde à
complex chuckled to see his dual, who was acting so surprisingly savage, as
usual, when it came to his work. Maybe that was what made him so fond of him,
his one and only dual from la monde à real--- none other than his passion---of
beauty, of his life, and of cooking--- that after all, stopped him from killing
Dave once and for all.
Prinz Bedlizst had not
been able to stop his laughing for the next 15 seconds.
Davidovich calmly took
some eggs, olive oil, tomatoes, and parsleys inside one of the many baskets in
the pantry. Bedl poked him on the shoulder.
It was her, am I not
right? he continously, as usual, teasing Dave. Such a psycho, you are, my
friend... of constantly thinking, seriously.... about your own sister? Really---
it's not like she's your girlfriend or something like that, right?
Oh, I'm dying to know,
hummed Davidovich, making Bedl burst back in laugh. Well, if it seems that you
have that much time... why don't you check on her for me? he poked Bedl on the
chest.
In a split second later,
just like the wind. Dave was left alone in the middle of his pantry, on the
warm summer night full of meads and wine, brains still vaguely thinking of her
sister, heart as foggy as autumn in the middle of the Dorf of Wisembourough.
Body could be trapped in Edinburgh, but who knows where mind could take you to?
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