If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen! (1)
head chef!abby x waitress!reader
part 2, part 3
Content: modern au, head chef!abby x waitress!reader, afab reader, just plot development here so no warnings, fluff/ wholesome moments. Also my requests are opennn <3 (comment on this post if u want to be added to my Abby perm taglist)
Word Count: 1,061
You lied on your resume. You shouldn’t have, but the job market has been beyond in the gutter as of lately.
What else were you supposed to do?
It’s not like you haven’t worked a ten hour shift before or haven’t dealt with the most insufferable, entitled customers. It’s just that, technically, you’ve only ever worked at a couple bookstores and a shoe shop. Which is miles away from the ‘two-three years of experience in a casual dining environment’ required for the job.
According to your roommate, Dina, food-service is another type of hell. You can tell it sucks the life out of her by the way she makes a beeline to the alcohol drawer…every single night after a shift.
You tell yourself that your trial shift went smoothly, so today should be no different.
The fact that all of the staff seemed welcoming definitely helped too.
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Tables are starting to fill, the collective chatter amongst guests loudens and you can hear the head chef start to bark orders at the rest of the kitchen staff.
Owen, your manager, keeps an anything-but-subtle eye on you as you begin to take orders and serve drinks. You think you’re handling yourself well considering you’ve never worked in such a fast-paced environment.
When panic seems to overwhelm you, you remind yourself at least you haven’t spilled any drinks on any of the customers.
As you gently collect the dishes on the pass waiting to be served, Abby- the head chef, reminds you “Be careful sweetheart, dishes are hot, yeah?”
You nod back at her, secretly in awe at how gentle her voice is in comparison to her towering, burly frame.
“Dishes are hot, got it” you meekly smile back. Once she heard you repeat her words back to her, confirming you knew better than to needlessly burn yourself, she fled back to the chaos in the kitchen.
Service surprisingly flew by easily. No mistakes, no rude customers- it was actually kind of fun.
Lunch rolled around and as you passed through the kitchen to walk to the staff cloakroom, Abby called out “Hey newbie! Wanna sandwich?”.
She had this easy going, care free air about her; even the way she said her words seemed smooth, lazy even, but only in that way that makes you envious. Like, how effortlessly cool can you be?
You try to push it down but a whisper of a smile tugs at the left side of your mouth “yeah I’ll take a sandwich…thanks”.
You’re a little suspicious at how kind she’s being to you. You’ve dealt with co workers who smother you with smiles and kind gestures, only for you to hear them gossiping about you when they think you’re not listening. So, you take her actions with a pinch of salt.
The sandwich is delicious; comforting and nostalgic like the memory of a loved one’s scent after a hug. The beauty in life’s simple pleasures only becomes more apparent to the both of you once the softening sky’s warm hues paint the pavement in golden stripes, casting the city in a smooth orange glow. You’re both sat in a small outside area of the restaurant only the staff have access to and you can hear the distant sounds of the kitchen and dining area creep into the sticky afternoon air.
The drink Abby made you melted into the table it rested on. A circle of ice cold sweetness marked the surface, making its presence known every time you lifted the glass to take a sip.
“Hope lemonades okay” she rasps, pausing between large indulgent bites of her sandwich to wait for your answer.
“It’s more than okay. Thanks for the ice too. It’s hot” you fan yourself, still trying to wade through the nervousness of eating lunch with the head chef.
Would that technically make her your boss?
Your train of thought is immediately lost when Abby swipes a bit of sauce away from her lips with her thumb and lifts it back up to her mouth to suck it clean.
You whip your head down to the lemonade and fiddle with the red and white striped straw, suddenly interested in the clinking sounds the ice cubes make against the glass as you stir.
Why is your heart beating so fast? And why are you sweating so much?
You huff away the weird responses your body is having to what you assume to be is the hot weather and dive into another question to distract yourself.
“So how long have you been working here?” you ask, almost finished with your sandwich now.
“Around three years” the sound she makes dances the line between a defeated sigh and a humourless laugh.
You don’t understand why she wouldn’t be proud to be working at such a fancy restaurant.
Your brows scrunch up in confusion and she chuckles, this time it’s a genuine one. “S’not the dream” she mutters half-heartedly.
“Mmm” you agree, like you’ve been at this place the same amount of time as her.
She laughs again “What about you?”
“Um…well you know today is my first day?”
You’re clearly confused now, you literally introduced yourself to the whole team this morning.
“You can’t be serious” she deadpans, a giggle aching to make its way out of her throat. Something about you makes her feel comfortable. Safe. Enough to let herself laugh unrestrained, the whole force of her chest rumbling with wild gasps of laughter if it came down to it.
“What’s your dream?” she clarifies.
OH.
“Oh, sorry. Dumb moment. An illustrator” you smile, already imaging the bliss of working your dream job.
Abby’s eyes light up at the thought and you tilt your head “…what?”
She smiles “Like, for books?”
“Yeah, something like that. I like to write too so maybe one day I could illustrate for my own book, who knows?” you start to ramble.
“Cool” she grins, wide and appreciative. Something about her makes you feel seen. Heard. Like she actually listens to the facts about your life that you share with her, rather than immediately forgetting about them like every other co-worker.
As you finish up the remnants of your food and slurp up your lemonade, you notice that the silence between you feels natural. Full with the freedom to be authentically oneself despite only knowing one another for less than a day.
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