I'm not planning on posting chapter by chapter but if I do finish this book then I will post it up in the advanced critiques section and if people are interested in this then let me know and I'll make sure you get a PM when I finish the entire piece.
I'd love to hear what you guys think about this, sorry about the length, it's a bit long.
Any reviews and comments are appreciated!
~Pink
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Kitchen Wars
Grace picked up the heavy cardboard box that held her kitchen plates. The other moving men were unloading her furniture and seemed to having less trouble than she was. Grace walked into her new apartment building and stood by the elevator, biting her tongue, trying to keep the box from slipping out of her hands. The wind outside felt like icy whips and she was planned on this box being the last one she carried.
The elevator door chimed and just as she was about to enter someone tapped her shoulder.
“Can I get that for you?”
“Huh?” She looked at the man. He was in a black coat with a large gray scarf cuddled around his neck. He had little snowflakes in his dark styled up hair and his as-colored eyes were like a liquid mirror. On his shoulders was a leather backpack and he had his hands out, reaching for the box.
Grace didn’t think a second longer about passing out on his assistance. “Sure, thank you.”
He lifted the box off her limp arms and they walked into the elevator. She stood next to him but made sure not a single part of her body touched his. She pushed the level seven button on her side.
“You live on that floor?” he asked curiously.
“Yeah, I just moved in today,” she replied.
“I live on that floor too.”
She smiled at him not knowing what else to say. She pinched her thigh trying to stop her heart from beating.
“Where did you move from?”
“I used to live in Chicago,” she answered, trying hard not to let her words stutter. She knew this elevated feeling she had for him was going to be short so she forced herself to stay calm. The last thing she needed was for her stupid cheeks to turn red or her words to tangle.
He straightened the box in his arms. “This is heavy, what the hell is in here?”
“Kitchen plates.”
“Ah…I see,” he nodded.
The doors opened and he pointed out with the box. “Which way?”
The corner of her mouth curved and she walked towards her apartment door. “Right here,” she stopped in the front of a door with the numbers 6079 pinned on.
He lifted a brow and looked back.
“What is it?”
“Well, I guess we’re neighbors then,” he said. He nudged his chin towards the door across the hall. “That’s me.”
“Hah,” she smiled. “I’m Grace Evans,” she introduced, extending her hand.
“Elijah Sun, but you can just call me Eli.” He stared at her hand. “I would shake it but…”
“Oh,” she forgot he was carrying her box. She quickly pushed the door open and let him in. He set the box down on the small kitchen counter and clapped his hands as if he was ridding them of dust.
“Well, I’ll get going then,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“Um, yeah, thanks for the help. I appreciate it. I would’ve killed my arms carrying that.”
“No problem. If you need anything else don’t hesitate to come by my place.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Oh,” he put his hands up. “I didn’t mean like…like that come by, I meant like-”
“I know, I know,” she giggled.
He gave a crooked grin and nodded. “Well then, bye,” he bit the bottom of his lip and walked out with a quick glance back.
How odd, she thought. She touched her cheeks to feel for warmth. Was she blushing? Had he noticed her nervous voice? Why did she get this way every time a guy was nice to her? She knew the answer to that question. She had never dated, never had a relationship because she was too shy. It took her years to finally be able to look a guy in the eye and rid herself from that shuddery feeling she got like a stupid twelve year old girl. That was how pathetic she was.
She leaned on the counter and looked at the empty living room. It was a nice apartment and it took a large toll on her paycheck but she needed somewhere nice to live in order to feel comfortable.
The door suddenly opened and she stood straight. It was only another one of the moving men carrying another box.
“Miss, where should I put this one?”
“Oh, right here is okay.”
“All right,” he grunted as she set the box on the floor.
Grace turned around and began opening the boxes that held her kitchen supplies. She was a chef and had gotten a promotion to finally become an executive Chef at an Italian restaurant called Amore in the Heart of New York City. She was glad to have finally found a solid job after months of searching, the Manager had been a friend of hers since High School and had a lot of trust in her and he hoped that Grace would be able to help pick up his business. He had previously hired a new Chef but because that Chef was ‘reconstructing’ his kitchen and changing the menu around, the business had dropped incredibly and he needed someone to revive his restaurant.
She had finished setting up the Kitchen by dark which she felt that was the most important part. She dropped flat onto her bed, her arms hurting from all the heavy lifting she had done. She had an empty stomach and she didn’t even feel like cooking anything or ordering anything or even going out for a quick bite. All she wanted to do was sleep. . .
***
“Chef, you’re here early,” Rafael greeted. He was buttoning up his white chef’s shirt and putting on his blue chef’s tie.
“I have a few things I need to finish considering our new menu,” the Chef answered as he took off his coat and backpack.
Rafael smirked, his dimples showing with no shame. “You’re making the Boss cut his own wrists, you know?”
He sighed and turned back to face the Spanish Sous Chef. “In order for the customers to receive the best healthiest food, some sacrifices must be made.”
The locker room door opened and in stepped Nara, the Sous Chef of the second Kitchen. “What are you going to do about the new Chef? I heard she had some close relationship with the Boss so she’ll be a pain the butt when you’re trying to reconstruct this restaurant.”
He smirked. “I wonder what bimbo that donkey hired this time.”
***
Grace pushed open the front door of Amore and walked in. She could see a few waiters running around clearing tables and prepping for Lunch hour.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we’re closed right now,” one of waitresses said.
“I’m not a customer,” Grace replied with a smile. “I’m the new Chef, Grace Evans. Where’s the manager?”
The waitress blinked and turned to face her coworker.
“Grace!” A voice called.
She turned around to see a tall man walk towards her with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a nice expensive looking tux with no tie. His blonde hair was gelled up and he had a very noticeable strong jaw that made him picture perfect for magazines.
“Christian,” Grace smiled, reaching to give him a friendly hug.
Chris turned towards the workers and pointed at them. “New Chef, got it?”
They nodded without saying a word.
Grace smiled and began walking with Chris towards the back of the house.
“I’m really glad you came, you don’t know how much trouble we’re in. My sales have dropped twenty percent and I’m afraid I won’t be able to pay my workers and,” he groaned, slapping his hands together, “I hate that guy.”
“Why don’t you just fire him?”
He coughed. “Contract.”
“Ah…I see…”
From what Grace knew Amore had two kitchens and two head Chefs. Since the restaurant was large and even held delivery services, many chefs were needed to operate it. She had yet to meet the other Head Chef and from what Chris had told her, he was a real pain in the ass. She just hoped she would be able to handle him and work together with him to revive this luxurious restaurant.
“This is your Kitchen,” Christian said, pushing open the double doors.
The Kitchen was large and had steel counters and appliances. Bread proofer and oven with stove and a large three compartment sink with tubes going in and out. Dishwasher in the corner and in the very front was the Chef’s table.
Grace walked up and slid her hand across the steel table. She smiled and stood straight, looking at the empty room. Well, she thought it was empty. The steel door of the walk in cooler opened and out stepped a boy. He was young and boyish looking with messy brown hair and blue eyes. He was holding a large bowl filled with shrimp. He clumsily set the bowl onto the counter and wiped his hands on his apron.
“Um…Chef?” he asked.
Grace smiled she knew exactly who this kid was. Only the Kitchen assistant would be here this early prepping for the lunch menu. “That’s right,” she answered. “Chef Grace Evans. You are?”
He stood straight like a soldier. “Kitchen Assistant, Jamie White, Chef!”
Christian laughed. “You act like she’s the commander of the army or something.”
“Sorry, Boss-Chef.”
“Continue working,” Grace said.
Jamie smiled and began his prepping. She felt bad for him; she remembered the lonely days when she used to be a Kitchen assistant and had to do all the little preparations and dirty work. Maybe she’d have someone help him on later.
“Do you like it?” Chris asked her.
“Oh yes, it’s a really nice Kitchen,” Grace answered with a nod.
“Can I show you your office then?”
“Yeah, sure.”
They left the kitchen and began walking even further down, past the locker rooms where she saw a tall Spanish looking Chef exit. His eyes flashed towards her and he smiled, brushing his black course hair. She gave him a quick nod and continued following Christian.
He stopped and opened the door in the very back of the hall. “Here it is,” he said.
The office was large and had two brilliant desks to accompany it. She supposed she had to share an office with the other Head Chef and she didn’t exactly mind that situation. It would give her a chance to get close to him and understand why he was doing the things that he was.
She stepped in the fresh smelling room and put her hands on her hips, feeling a burst of pride come from inside of her chest.
“Oh…it’s you,” a familiar voice echoed.
Grace turned her head and saw the Head Chef sitting in his chair with a few papers laid out in front. Her face turned pink as she stared at him. He was in a stainless white uniform with a red chef’s tie and no hat. His black hair was brushed up and his smile sent a shockwave up her spine. Her neighbor?
Christian extended his hand towards the Chef and unwillingly introduced, “This…is Executive Chef Elijah Sun.”
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(PS I've never worked in a restaurant and I'm not exactly sure how they function but I do have some knowledge about it and I might be making up a few things but I don't think I overdid anything...if something bothers you, please let me know, thanks)
And you don't have to say every little thing that Gale does. 
