When Samuel arrived at his office, he assumed it was unlike any other typical day. Morning tea to drink, strawberry shortcake to eat for lunch, papers to read for dinner, interns to reprimand for dessert. It was an expectation. All he wanted was normal.

He didn't think he'd be in his boss' office, hearing her slam her computer, and swear for fifteen minutes.

"Why am I such an idiot?!" Naiver looked upward. "Jesus fu-"

"Miss Attwood, if I may intervene," he took a step through the outstanding line of patience his boss has. Another step and he might lose his valued job." What exactly is the issue arising?"

Naiver took a deep breath, "I don't have a caterer."

Samuel smiled, "It's alright that you don't have a chef for lunch. I'll order at the usual and-"

"For the gala, I don't have a chef for the gala,"

Samuel's mouth slowly gaped into a hole; he closed it, clearing his throat. "The gala that's in a week?"

"Yes, the annual Autumn gala, where we hold our auction for people to throw money at, interns get drunk, free food-"

"I know what the Autumn Leaves Gala is. Everyone in this building knows," he sighed, clasping his hands together. "So let me guess, you had everything covered, the venue, the auction, the guest list, everything, except the caterer and the cake?"

"Yes, hence me swearing for," She turned to her computer," 20 minutes,"

Samuel wanted to scream. He knew that his boss wasn't a procrastinator in the slightest. She'd be ready for almost anything, but now Samuel wished that she forgot lunch rather than something this big. Had it been a month ago, he'd laugh it off and ask, maybe more like, demand his assistant to do the task assigned. The Autumn leaves gala, the one where the weight of everyone's expectations are on the well-known software and computer company in the world. It couldn't have been a worse situation.

His words left him before he could stop himself, "Leave this to me, Ms. Attwood. "

Naiver raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you can handle this?"

"I'm your partner. This shouldn't be too hard for my team and me to find a chef,"

"I hope it isn't," she reached in her drawer and handed him a bulky binder. "These are all the catering services in the radius of our area. Do your best to find one. I don't care how much it costs."

Samuel hoisted the binder at his side. "I'll be back in the morning with a restaurant that is worthy of the gala."

Naiver raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, "You best do so, or else I'll make this gala a potluck.

Samuel walked out the door, back to his office.

He smirked to himself as he cleared his throat, "Samara, contact the interns and have them meet in meeting room B. Anyone who isn't there in fifteen minutes is fired."

He can do this; it shouldn't be too hard. Samuel came from Great Britain. He could get this done by tea time.

-

Samuel didn't get this done by tea time, and he was dreading every minute.

Not a single service was available for serving this gala. Not a single caterer was known to cook, and parties and galas were booked in advance.

There were more than a thousand catering services on this list, some pages crossed off to where it wasn't legible, some covered with coffee stains, and some with drool, so he had to start from scratch. He had interns on his payroll search for competent services in doing a full-fledged investigation. His operations team called each restaurant and inquired about the availability of catering for a gala. Others worked on refining the newest software and offering help in other departments.

Almost 500 people helped him in searching for a restaurant. They pulled late-night shifts, with no tea, no coffee, and not one slice of strawberry shortcake at teatime.

He came back to Naiver with an empty binder, and she accepted her defeat with a sad smile, knowing the outcome.

Samuel sat at his desk. A fresh strawberry shortcake sat in a delicate box accompanied by a cup of tea. He rubbed his temples once more, taking a bite of the strawberry shortcake. A rush of freshly cut strawberries with fresh whipped cream restored his energy as if he drank three cups of coffee. The moist cake gave a burst of vanilla with every bite. He cupped his cheek and smiled, taking his mug and sipping his usual earl grey.

Knock Knock

He rolled his eyes, putting his mug down, and groaned. "Someone better is dying. Come in"

The door clicked before his meek assistant came in.

"Yes, Marissa? Don't just stand there," He sighed.

"One of our tech teams found a couple of restaurants that would be befitting of the upcoming gala. I didn't know if you'd like to look at them or give them to-"

"Who's assistant are you?"

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"Yours...Mr. Crowett,"

"Then you report to me unless my boss says differently."

"Yes, Mr. Crowett," She looked down.

Samuels face immediately softened to the change of her tone. He looked up. "I apologize that I upset you, Marissa. The search for a chef has been," he took a deep breath. "Frustrating, to say the least,"

Marissa nodded.

"You're a good assistant, but you're sensitive. That can go in your favor, or you can drown quickly to the pressure of taking everything to heart,"

"Yes, Mr. Crowett,"

"Let me see those papers," He motioned his hand gently as Marissa walked over and handed the documents. "Thank you. Do you have some pictures of their work and made sure it was up to our company's standards?"

"Yes, we put each of the restaurants through background checks to make sure it's up to standard,"

He nodded as he breezed through the profiles of each restaurant," Have any of these caught your eye, Marissa?"

She wrinkled her eyebrows, "I haven't looked at them myself. Usually, I'm not too fond of fancy foods. They look almost...too good to eat?"

Samuel chuckled as he scanned the accolades. "That I do understand, like you physically can't eat it because it's almost scary,"

She nodded in agreement as her boss laid a hand on his cheek, leaning down on his desk, eyeing his slice of cake.

"You go to The Sweet Spot ?"

He looked up, raising an eyebrow, "You go there as well, Marissa?"

She nodded, her golden curls bouncing along. "It's where my friends and I go after work, they serve the best vanilla cheesecake, and the white chocolate shavings are absolutely amazing,"

Samuel looked at the strawberry shortcake, smiling. "I believe that we found our restaurant,"

"I thought we needed real food, not desserts?"

"I believe I have an idea to fix that,"

---

Carina looked at the rosette cupcakes in front of her. She picked one up and turned it slowly, flipping it upside down. A glob of buttercream frosting fell on the table. She sighed. "Can anybody tell me what's wrong with this cupcake?"

The chefs looked at the cake in disgust. They knew that there were two reasons for the frosting to fall off so easily. One pastry chef raised their hand.

"Yes, Cora?" Carina put the cupcake down and wiped her hand with her apron.

"It means that the person added too much liquid."

"Correct, can someone else tell me the other reason?"

Another raised their hand.

"Dani,"

"It means that it wasn't whipped enough," They said.

"Can you tell me which one it is?" Carina smiled.

They walked over to the table, grabbing a spoon and scooping up the frosting. They closed their eyes and tasted a bit of the frosting, grabbing a napkin and spitting it out.

The chefs chuckled.

"Quiet, or else all of you can taste," She turned to Dani. "Have you figured out what it is?"

"It tastes almost like water,"

"Well, that answers my question. Does anyone know what comes next?'

The chefs stood in silence.

"It means you have to start all a hundred of these again, from scratch,"

The chefs groaned as questions shot off to the teacher.

"When baking, everything should be exact. Nothing shouldn't be out of place. I gave you the assignment to give me the simple task of doing a hundred cupcakes and the frosting designed in a rose. How am I supposed to know that the cupcakes in front of me won't have the same result as the one I just had you assess?"

The chefs stood in silence once more. Their heads bowed in shame.

Carina looked at them. She sighed and curved her lips into a smile. "However, if someone actually tells me who made the batch of frosting, maybe you all don't have to stay late today."

A young chef with fiery red hair raised her hand.

"Yes, Sarah?"

"I did it,"

"How?"

"I was called to help Courtney with the mixture of the cupcakes, and when I came back, I was reading the recipe and added too much water."

Carina nodded. "I appreciate your honesty, but I suppose you'll just have to stay later to help me with these cupcakes,"

Sarah nodded.

"You're all dismissed, Sarah; please come with me," Carina grabbed the tray of cupcakes and tossed them in the trash. Sarah walked over to the chef. Standing behind her as the rest of the chefs walked out of the kitchen.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, I did." She turned around, crossing her arms. "Sarah, I've known you for three weeks, and I can already tell that you have an eye for taste, and you always know to perfect every dessert I tested you guys on,"

Sarah nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Carina,"

"But...You have a kind heart. Many people can take advantage of that, my dear," She gently lifted the redhead's chin, looking her in the eye. "You, my dear, must understand that while you can reach your hand to help others, you cannot allow others to hold onto that hand forever. Or else you might make the watery frosting,"

The two of them giggled softly.

"So...do I still have to do-over those cupcakes?"

Carina giggled. "Those cupcakes weren't for a customer, Sarah,"

Her eyes widened, "Seriously?"

Carina nodded. "I have many customers from both my restaurants, but no one in their right mind would have just some rosette cupcakes and not a hundred at that,"

BANG!

"Favorite best friend in the world!!!"

Carina jumped in her seat, clinging to the thermos of hot chocolate, the thought of how much a replacement door. "I suppose you just want me to have a heart attack?"

Samara wrapped her arms around the baker, squeezing gently, "Why would I ever want my favorite person to have a heart attack?"

"I believe you want something, spit it out," She sighed," You're always like this when you want anything,"

Samara bit her lip, "You know about my boss, right?"

Carina rolled her eyes, giggling, "Who doesn't know the great Naiver Rosario?" She turned to get a good look at her best friend, "What exactly does that have to do with me?"

"I kinda recommended you for something,"

"Like…?"

"Catering for an event that could pay you a butt load of money?"

Carina pinched her temples ever so gently. "Why in the hell would you do that?" We're a cafe that serves all walks of life,"

"But your restaurant doesn't. You guys did catering events before,"

"I don't have the greatest team. I don't even have a catering team; they're still learning teamwork!"

"Naiver can put some money on it," Samara snorted.

"You're going to put money on it?

"My payroll won't permit me as a bodyguard, but…"

"I thought so," She ran a hand through her honey-brown locks, ruffling and running through them again, "Why? Don't they do this once a year?"

"It's been kinda stressful for the boss,"

"Uh-huh, and you think best friend status will work?"

"Maybe…?"

Carina took a deep breath, "How am I going to train a team of at least 30 people, maybe more, in the matter of what, three months?"

"Weeks,"

"Weeks?!"

"It's really last minute, and no one else wants to take this on,"

"The hell they don't!"

"I know it's awful, but I need you to bail me out on this one. I recommended you in a pinch, and Ms. Rasario promised that pay could definitely be negotiable,"

Carina looked at her friend, Samara, while crazy, may have caught onto something. She could use this as a teamwork exercise for her cafe workers. They've already worked on teamwork with a restaurant. It could give Carina some support to work with instead of raising hell and high water for some other teenagers who go on a phone whenever problems ensue. She had something to work with, which was better than nothing. She had a team of people she trusts.

"This is crazy, and you damn well know it," Carina sighed.

"I know, and I-"

"Give me her card. I'll contact her for a meeting,"

"You'll do it?!"

Carina raised an eyebrow. "Don't get ahead of yourself. We'll do a meeting and see how things go, realistically,"

Samara let out a small squeal, smiling widely and wrapping her arms around the baker's curvy yet slim frame. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Carina smiled.

"Anything for my person,"