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CHAPTER ONE
Talia
‘OH, TALIA, thank heavens you’re here!’
Despite my exhaustion I shoot Kiri a massive grin. ‘Where do you need me?’
‘Everywhere.’ The chef looks near tears. ‘The servers are so inexperienced they need training more than guidance but there isn’t time. The fryer won’t get to temperature and I can’t—’
‘Leave the servers with me,’ I interrupt. It’s clear Kiri’s hit peak stressed chef and I need to move. Happily, sorting an imploding kitchen situation is something I’ve done more nights than I want to remember. If I quickly smooth front of house, Kiri can concentrate on her magical plates. She just needs confidence in me for calm to return.
‘There aren’t enough glasses for the affogatos.’ Kiri continues listing the catastrophes.
‘I’ll find alternative ones.’
‘Yeah, but the coffee machine is misfiring and the primary ordered espresso martinis ten minutes ago even though we’re only through the third course and have another two—’
‘Affogato and espresso martinis?’ I interrupt again.
‘She requested tiramisu as well.’ Kiri growls.
I chuckle. She’s a customer after my own heart. Coffee’s my one true love and I’m going to need my own caffeine hit to get through the next few hours.
‘The hired entertainment is late and has only just got onto the gondola.’ Kiri tosses a pan into a sink with more force than necessary. ‘Typical.’
It’s just over a twenty-minute ride in the suspension car to the exclusive restaurant at the top of the mountain so, what with the diva espresso machine and delayed entertainer, there’s a gap in proceedings. I can’t entertain, but I can tame a coffee machine.
‘I’ll stall with the martinis,’ I reassure Kiri as she whirls back to another pan, furiously stirring its bubbling contents into smooth submission.
‘Did you see the forecast?’ Kiri growls, stuck in her doom spiral. ‘Some apocalyptic storm is due.’
‘Yeah?’ I bite back a laugh and resort to my fool-proof trick to distract Kiri. ‘Well, it only needs to hold off for another couple of hours, then you’ll be back down the mountain being massaged by your unreasonably hot husband.’
Kiri’s eyes glaze over and her frantic stirring stops. She snaps out of it in time to catch my amusement. ‘I know.’ She finally cracks a smile. ‘I’m losing it.’
‘You’re fine. Focus on your food. I’ll take care of the extraneous. But not even I can change the weather.’
‘You sure?’ Kiri chuckles mid-sprint from counter to flaming grill. ‘I think you’re a goddess.’
I’m not. But I am used to working back-to-back shifts. I’ve been doing it since I was thirteen and got my first kitchen-hand job. When Romy—owner of the café I work a day shift at—phoned half an hour before closing saying the manager at the gondola restaurant was down with flu and they desperately needed a head waiter, I said yes. Sure I’ve already worked a twelve-hour day, plus I have a midnight-till-closing shift at a dive bar later tonight, but I need the money. And not just because of the cost of living here.
Queenstown is mega-expensive. The snowy mountain paradise in New Zealand’s South Island is stunningly beautiful with incredible views and adventurous opportunities. It’s super popular with the wealthy—there are vast numbers of stunning, luxury leisure homes everywhere. It feels as though every other café customer is a billionaire. They dress in sleek merino jumpers, rock-star jeans and mingle with the travellers who flit in to enjoy the slopes and adrenalin hits. They all have high expectations of service. Because I’m reliable I’ve got more work than I can manage. I hold down multiple food service jobs while building a social media side hustle because, not only do I need to make enough for my own survival, but I support my sister. Ava’s four years younger than me and a genius but even with her scholarships she needs additional support, and I don’t want our screwed-up family stopping her from succeeding.
So I quickly head out to scope the situation. Honestly, it’s pretty wild. Primary guest Simone Boras is Australian, as are her mostly female guests, and for her seventy-seventh birthday she’s booked out the entire restaurant. They’re loud, they’re laughing, they’re definitely here to have a good time and we’re going to need that entertainment soon to keep the energy up and divert attention from the delay on dessert.
‘Simone, I’m Talia.’ I smile at her. ‘I’m here to make your martinis.’
Simone’s polite and charming enough but I recognise the slight edge in her smile. She expects the best. If I deliver, she’ll approve. So I move fast. It doesn’t take me long to get to grips with the coffee machine and I make her martini. No one makes a meaner coffee than me.
And her delight is genuine. ‘Thank you, Talia.’
I don’t mind guests with high standards when they appreciate my work.
‘Can we get two more of those?’ one guest calls to me. ‘They look amazing.’
‘Of course.’ I smile. ‘I’ll bring them right over.’
As I make more martinis I talk strategy with the servers and send them out with the cocktails. The vibe of the room lifts. When I get a chance I check on Kiri. She’s still sweating bullets but the kitchen feels less chaotic.
