Ficool

Chapter 7 - Watching You

[You have completed the following Objective(s)]

1. Hire 1 waitstaff [1/1] 

[Employees]

Waitstaff: 1/2

Megan Griffin:

Maintenance: +$250

Trait: +5% chance to upsell 

Kitchenstaff: 0/1

None

[Congratulations, you have completed the following quest: Grill Master I] 

[You have received the following reward(s)]

1. +2 Skill Points 

2. +2 Development Points 

3. +1 Perk Points

4. +$2000

[Property [Abandoned Grillhouse] is ready for opening, you may now rename your property at any time via the Property Manual]

"I'd say that's a near-perfect way to end the first day," I muttered to myself as I went over my notifications while sitting on the edge of my bed, ready to go to sleep. But I couldn't retire yet, I had a few important decisions to make and finalize. With my windfall of points, I opened my system, navigated down to the skills, and quickly sank one skill point into my cooking skill, bringing it to the next level. 

[Skill: Cooking II]

Upgrade Cost: 0/2

Effect(s): 

+10% to the final quality of all recipes

+10% to cooking speed

I breathed a sigh of relief as I read over the increase in cooking quality, which would hopefully widen the razor's edge I was walking on regarding profits. But the increase in upgrade cost was a little worrying, 'Either it's a static increase or is doubling each time, either way I won't figure it out until I upgrade the skill again.' 

While I was tempted to hoard my remaining skill points, I knew that the coming days would be the most difficult hurdle of my restaurant career, so I needed every advantage I could get. Opening up the skills menus, I was immediately overwhelmed with infinite choices, but with a bit of mental filtering, I restricted my options to those that would assist me in the kitchen, and while there were still a lot, I managed to make a selection. 

[You have learned the skill [Knife Work] for 1 Skill Point]

[Skill: Knife Work I]

Upgrade Cost: 0/1

Effect(s): 

+10% speed when using knives

+5% damage when using knives

The exact phrasing of the skill was a bit vague regarding what exactly counted as speed and damage, but I trusted that my system wouldn't steer me wrong, 'Hopefully it just means I can cut through things easier and faster.' 

Having spent all my skill points, I moved onto my last decision, seeing as my development points had automatically been assigned to my overall level. Opening up the perks, I was greeted with another infinite list, and this time it was an even harder choice as the effects were wide and myriad, ranging from mildly useful, incredibly helpful, to downright reality warping. Of course, those perks out of the box cost thousands of points, so after sorting through all the shiny and flashy options to the ones I could actually afford, I managed to pick my first perk. 

[Perk: Fortune I]

Upgrade Cost: 0/1

Effect(s): 

+5% to daily profits

"Anything to keep me out of the red," I muttered what I felt was going to be my motto as I closed out of all the windows and crawled into bed, only to be greeted by another prompt as my head hit the pillow. 

[Day 1 Report] 

Simlife

Profits: +2000$

Cost: -3450$

Income: -1450$

Total: 3550$

DateLife

Energy Spent: 0 

Energy Gained: 0

Tantric Reserves: 5/5

Lust: +10 [10/100]

I gave the numbers a brief once over, but they didn't tell me anything I didn't already know, so I put them out of my mind and closed my eyes, quickly falling asleep. 

-Megan's POV-

"Alright, I'm headed out now," I called out over my shoulder, one foot already across the threshold. Though before I could finish my escape plan, a voice called out from the kitchen, "What do you mean you're headed out?" 

I suppressed a sigh as I turned around to find my mother staring at me as if I had done something wrong, "I'm going to work, Mom. I told you about this yesterday at dinner, remember?" 

"I most certainly do not," My mother replied as she crossed her arms underneath her chest and stuck out her hip. 

I rolled my eyes, "Well, whether you remember it or not, I have a job now. There's a new restaurant opening in town, and I got a job as a waiter after I ran into the owner yesterday on my way back from the store." 

"Oh," My mother replied lamely as she realized there wasn't anything she could lecture me on, "Well, it's about time you got a job." 

I opened my mouth to reply only to let out an exhausted sigh, "I don't know how late I'll be working, so don't wait for me to start dinner." 

Then, without another word, I turned and marched out the door, desperate to get away from my mother and the rest of my batshit crazy family. 

---

When the restaurant came into view after a brisk walk across town, my mood had bounced back despite my mother's best efforts. Though it certainly helped knowing that I was getting closer and closer to seeing Ramon. Just thinking his name made my heart pound in my chest, and I couldn't help but internally groan at how fucked I was, 'Seriously, get a grip, Megan, there's no way anything happens between you two. He was probably just looking at you so intensely to make sure you weren't concussed, and being overly nice so you wouldn't sue him for bodily harm.' 

My rapid trail of spiraling thoughts came to a sudden stop as I looked across the street, and my gaze fell on the Grillhouse. Compared to yesterday, the old brick building looked alive, mostly due to the fact that the lights were on on the inside, revealing a warm, cozy interior. But also above the door, in big white block lettering against a dark maroon background was a sign, "Ramon's Grill…I like it." 

Crossing the street, I walked up to the front door, which was openly displaying a closed sign, but checking the time, I saw that it was only five minutes to four o'clock. 'Let's hope he didn't forget about me.' 

With a nervous sigh, I grabbed the front door handle and stepped inside the restaurant. My entrance was announced by the chime of a bell atop the door, and for a moment I froze, but when nobody replied, I hesitantly called out, "Hello…is anybody here?" 

Again, no response, and just as I was about to turn around and call it a day, I picked up on the sound of movement coming from further back. Letting the door close behind me, I walked inside, glancing at the somewhat bare walls that held their own unique charm. 

Making my way to the very back of the restaurant, I eventually stopped in front of a pair of swinging metal doors that I slowly pushed open and peered inside. 

In an instant, it was obvious I had found the kitchen, the black and white tile floors holding up stainless steel shelves, workstations, and an industrial sink. The only unusual thing about the room was the massive hearth in the middle that looked like something out of a medieval tavern. That and the man tending to it. 

Like a stalker, I stood in the doorway and silently watched the unfortunate victim of my infatuation. There was nothing overtly intimate about what Ramon was doing or even his clothing, but the man somehow made dinner prep look like a damn strip show. 

He was wearing a pair of plain black slacks and a white buttoned-up shirt with a black apron tied around his waist. Perfectly normal attire, but it was the subtle details of his appearance that got to me, like how his shirt didn't have a collar and the top three buttons were left undone, exposing the top of his muscular chest, or how he had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows revealing his thick forearms that were riddled with veins. 

My heart was pounding as I watched him throw a log into the blazing hearth before he stood back up with a sigh and grabbed a large stock pot that he placed directly on the grill. For a moment, he dipped out of view, leaving me to watch as the fire rose up past the metal to lick at the bottom of the pot. 

A second later, Ramon returned, holding several canisters of cooking oil that he lowered onto one of the stone ledges surrounding the hearth. Then one by one, he tore off the tops and poured the oil into the pot. When all the canisters were empty, Ramon cleaned up the metal tins and wiped up a few errant drops of oil with a towel that he tucked back into his apron. 

From there, he moved over to the sink, hauling a bag of potatoes that he dumped in and began to rinse down using his large, rugged hands to make sure each spud was clean. 

Shaking my head, I rapidly blinked, breaking whatever spell had been cast on me, 'God, I need to get a grip.' 

With one final gaze at Ramon's broad back, I loudly cleared my throat, making the man glance over his shoulder with his impossibly dark blue eyes, "H-hi, I don't know if you remember me, b-but-" 

"Of course I remember you, Megan," Ramon cut me off with a broad smile revealing perfect white teeth, before he glanced at the clock, "And it looks like you're right on time." 

'He remembered my name,' I couldn't help but smile at that, "W-well, I didn't want to be late for my first day, b-but when does everyone else get here?" 

"Oh, there isn't anyone else on payroll at the moment, and I only got the budget for one more waitstaff and one kitchen staff," Ramon replied.

'So, it's just gonna be me and him, alone, in a restaurant until late at night,' I quickly hid my face, turning as a furious blush spread across my cheeks, 'Oh god, I'm not gonna make it through the week.' 

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