#Chapter 66: Practice Makes Perfect
Abby

My office is silent as I scroll through the new emails that have landed in my inbox. My fingers drum on

the desk, anticipating the one email that I’ve been waiting for the most—the details of the upcoming

cooking competition.

And then, there it is, bolded and marked with high importance: Cook-Off Competition Details.

Taking a deep breath, I click on it.

The email is concise but packed with information. Attached to it is a long list, detailing every possible

dish that might come up during the competition.

My heart rate quickens as I scan the list. Some dishes I recognize, ones I’ve made a thousand times

over in my career, but others are unfamiliar, exotic even, presenting challenges I’ve never faced before.

I won’t know which three dishes I’ll be asked to prepare on the spot. Which means only one thing: I

have to practice all of them. Every single one.

Grabbing a notepad, I jot down a list of ingredients I’ll need for the more exotic dishes, then turn my

attention to the restaurant’s supplier portal, adding item after item to the shopping list. The ingredients

range from the ordinary to the obscure. Each addition of expensive truffles, caviar, and fresh scallops

makes my anxiety spi ke.

How can I perfect so many dishes in such a short time?

Once the orders are placed, I stretch and push back from the desk, glancing at the clock on the wall.

It’s getting late, but there’s no time to waste. Without a second thought, I pull my hair into a messy bun

and prepare to head to the kitchen to get started.

Before I can leave, however, a sudden page over the intercom draws me from my task.

“Abby, can you come up front for a moment? I need help with the register.” It’s Chloe, her voice

strained.

I head to the bar

register. “Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, striding

damn thing,” she mutters, her fingers hovering over

evening.”

and start navigating through the

life, responding as it should.

been holding.

I thought I’d have to do all the transactions

reply, giving her a reassuring

it. But…” She hesitates, her eyes flickering with an unspoken

night… I shouldn’t have snapped at you.

against the counter, crossing my arms.

“I’m your

to see you get hurt

words sting, echoing the fears I keep buried deep down, but I push them away,

remember? Learned my lesson the hard way. It’s not

to happen again.”

softly, “but it’s just… you deserve

him hurting you again.”

squeezing her hand. “I appreciate your concern, Chloe, but

I don’t need to be monitored or told what

mix of emotions swirling

reluctant nod. “I understand.”

I say, my voice soft, before turning

way back to my office, Chloe’s words reverberate in my

part is frustrated. This entire situation, I realize,

tightrope, balancing between concern

friendship with Chloe. Our

trust me, to trust my judgments and my

Karl’s charms all those years ago, who got lost in

self-worth and got my heart broken. I’ve grown, learned, and changed. Why

friends just see me as a fool who

that’s bad for

chair, though, a

of his

spoken about.

mistake. A wonderful, horrible, delicious mistake. And it can’t

quiet, with the last employees heading

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