A La Minute
The next day Sirius sits in front of his laptop at home. He has a blanket wrapped snugly around him because his flat is seemingly always freezing, and a cup of pitch black coffee next to him. Scrolling through jobs is tiresome and coffee will keep him awake. Although Lily promised him yesterday that she would give this hot shot manager, Marlene, his number, he’s not so sure he’ll get the job. The cooking industry is nothing but ruthless. Only very few chefs actually end up with their own restaurant, let alone manage to build their own brand. If Sirius wants to be anything like his idols, he knows he will have to work for it.
It’s not that he wants to be famous on television or have his own line of pasta sauces, but a small restaurant with a limited and seasonal menu is his dream. He imagines it will be with a big kitchen, where he gets to make decisions and decide what flavour combination gets put on the menu. Sirius has never really been good with authority, and that’s usually an issue when he has to work in someone else’s restaurant.
Sirius sips his coffee. It’s a little cold already. How long has he been sitting here? He glares at the little clock at the bottom of the computer screen and realises it has been hours. He has been mindlessly scrolling jobs for hours already.
He needs to apply for something. Anything. Just one job. With a newfound feeling of determinism, he grabs his long hair and secures it in the back of his head in a loose bun.
Sirius's job history is not exactly something to be proud of. He knows he needs to be more reliable if he ever wants to make cooking his career.
There is the whole issue of mindlessly following orders, but there is also the issue of creativity. It is just hard for him to follow the same menu all the time. Sirius did not go to culinary school to work in a restaurant where everything is deep fried, and he had to make the same food over and over again.
No, Sirius trained to become a chef because he loves experimenting, trying something new, and the creativity it gives him. Food offers a million different possibilities. Even something as simple as a tomato can become so different depending on how it is cooked, or what flavours it is combined with. It matters how it is seasoned, and what other vegetables or meats it is paired with. It is also important to be aware if it is the main ingredient tying the dish together or simply a supplement making something else shine. Sirius thinks about this a lot.
Cooking is creating. It is creativity. To Sirius, it is a form of art.
“Focus Sirius,” He says out loud to himself, as if that will get him to focus. He scrolls through the site and finally settles on something that sounds okay. It’s not that Sirius is particularly picky with his jobs - he can’t afford to be. He just really wants to be creative and try new things out, which restaurants very often do not allow.
Some of Sirius' early, and happy, memories are of him, his uncle Alphard and his brother cooking in Alphard’s house. It is where he picked up his passion for food and cooking. Alphard loved to cook and would let Sirius loose in the kitchen. He would encourage Sirius to try new things or prepare something differently than previously. Sirius can clearly remember the warm and enticing kitchen so well. The sunshine streamed in from the windows and the intense smell of spices in the air. It wasn’t often that his parents would let Sirius and Regulus visit Alphard. It only happened a few times, before they deemed him a bad influence on the two young boys. His parents never liked Alphard much.
Despite this, it awakened something inside Sirius. Alphard’s house felt more like home than Grimmauld Place ever did. The memories with Alphard and Regulus in the kitchen are some of the best he has of his childhood.
Sirius shakes his head. He needs to focus now. He copies the email from the job application into an empty mail and begins typing it out. Just as he is about to attach his resumé the screen on his phone lights up. Thankful for the distraction he flips it over and checks it.
It is a text.
From an unknown number.
[Unknown] Hey. I hope this is Sirius Black. I’m looking for a private chef for my client. It’s about five days a week, and maybe some additional days if there are guests or dinner parties or something. Lily recommended you and said you had lots of experience.
Sirius just stares at the screen. ‘Lots of experience’ is maybe a stretch, but if it somehow qualifies Sirius for a job as a private chef he’ll take it. Before he has the chance to reply he receives a few more texts from the same number.
[Unknown] Also, this is Marlene McKinnon.
[Unknown] Also also, can you come into my office tomorrow for an interview? We want you to start asap.
[Unknown] If you’re interested, that is.
With the computer screen illuminating his face he quickly types out a reply on his phone. The email he was about to send is completely abandoned.
He confirms that, yes, this is Sirius Black, and yes, he is very much interested in the job, and yes, he can come in tomorrow for an interview. He saves the number in a new contact on his phone under the name Marlene. As soon as he has done so, Marlene sends him an address and time.
Sirius confirms it immediately – not even caring that he might come off as desperate with how fast he is replying. He is desperate.
Marlene sends him a text back.
[Marlene] That’s great! See you tomorrow then :)
And Sirius can hardly believe it. He has a job interview tomorrow, and his possibly future boss is sending smileys to him.
He lets out a loud, high-pitch squeal which feels silly but he can not help it. He’s a twenty-five year old man. He has no reason to squeal like a schoolgirl getting a text from her crush. Still, he’s so excited to meet this Marlene and maybe cook for her rich client, and maybe make enough money so he doesn’t have to go another month without hot water.
It’s just an interview, he has to remind himself.
He takes a sip of his coffee which is now cold and spins around in his chair. Maybe he will even be able to afford somewhere nicer than the current one-bedroom place he’s renting. It is way too expensive and the kitchen is not nearly big enough for Sirius’ liking. The place is so small, there is mould in the bathroom and the fridge in the kitchen has been leaking for months now. His landlord does not care.
Sirius can not find it in himself to be upset about any of it, because tomorrow he has a job interview.
Sirius parks his dingy car outside and double - no triple - checks the address. His palms are sweaty and he feels so nervous. It’s just an interview. Just a casual conversation. He doesn’t even have to cook anything, he checked with Marlene yesterday evening, it’s just a talk about the job. He wipes his sweaty palms on his black jeans. He’s wearing a simple, dark blue button-up, which he believes compliments his eyes, and black jeans with his boots on. It’s his typical attire for when he is in the kitchen, minus the button-up. It’s usually a plain t-shirt. It’s comfortable and nice, and Sirius knows if he accidentally spills something on himself it will come off in a wash. Sirius has spilt food more times than he can remember, and he now knows not to wear nice or expensive clothes to work. But now, for this interview, he has decided to be a bit more representable.
He’s meeting a big hot-shot manager after all. Sirius looked Marlene up after the texts last night. Her face and name popped up online with just about every singer and songwriter Sirius has ever heard in the past few years. She is for sure a big deal, and this does nothing good for Sirius’ nerves. He lets his long, dark hair down and heads towards the big, fancy, corporate-grey building in front of him.
Inside he is greeted by a receptionist in high heels, who looks way too nice and fancy compared to Sirius. He feels even more nervous as he looks around. Everyone looks so effortlessly cool, and Sirius feels so out of place here. Still, he takes the elevator to the tenth floor, which the receptionist tells him, is where Marlene has her office.
As he steps out into the long hallway his nerves are racking up. He passes a few doors with names on it until he gets to one with the name M. McKinnon printed on it in big white letters. He knocks and hears a cheerful, “Come in!” from the other side.
As Sirius enters the office he can’t help but feel incredibly awestruck. The office is on the tenth floor, with big glass windows overlooking the city. Sirius can see so far away and in the cold, wet winter weather he can see the dark skies looming above. His car looks so tiny and insignificant from the view of the parking lot. The entire office is open, welcoming and beautiful. There are two of what looks like nice designer chairs and a couch in the middle of the room between a small glass table which Sirius is sure costs more than his entire flat. One of the walls is decorated with colourful paintings and pictures of different bands and singers, all of whom look familiar to Sirius. At the far end of the office is a big steel desk. Behind it sits a young woman, about Sirius’ age. She is blond, wearing a dark dress, and not particularly looking like what Sirius imagines a manager would look like. Just like everyone Sirius has seen so far, she looks effortlessly cool.
“Hey. You must be Chef Black. It’s nice to finally meet you,” She says and gets up, walking around the huge desk to approach him.
It takes a minute for Sirius’ brain to catch up and realise it’s him she’s speaking to. No one has ever called him ‘Chef Black’. James would have a field day if he heard.
“Hi. Yes. It’s just Sirius really,” He hums and shakes her hand when she finally reaches him.
“Oh, you can never be too careful with names. Some people care a lot about their titles,” Marlene explains, ”In that case please just call me Marlene!”
Sirius can’t help but look behind his shoulder at the celebrity photographs. He wonders if what Marlene is referring to applies to some of these people. Marlene gestures for Sirius to sit down in one of the designer chairs, while she takes place in another one opposite him.
She straightens her back as she sits down and starts explaining to Sirius “So, I want to start us off by emphasising how important discretion is. I’m sure you’ve heard from Lily how important it is to keep the privacy of every client and their friends and family. For you to work this job, I would therefore need you to sign an NDA just as a precaution.”
Sirius can now see the manager. Marlene is very friendly and informal when needing to be, but right now she’s all business.
He nods and quickly says, “I understand” when he realises he hasn’t actually said anything.
It’s a little nerve wracking that he needs to sign an NDA, but it does make sense he thinks. Celebrities want their privacy and if Sirius is to work in some snob's kitchen he might overhear something just like Lily does.
“That’s great!” Marlene says and smiles at him. She looks like she means it, and it makes Sirius relax a tiny bit.
She continues, “Another important point. We’re trying to fatten him up a bit. No like, make him fat but he probably does need a healthy diet so he can gain a tiny bit of muscle for his upcoming album and tour” Marlene is looking at him expectantly. Sirius quickly realises what exactly Marlene means by this.
“Alright. I’m no nutritionist, but it does sound like a lot of healthy fats and proteins. That should not be an issue,” He says. This really does make his job a lot easier since he can let his creativity flow, and does not have to think about diets.
“You do not need to be a nutritionist. We have that available as well as personal trainers,” Marlene explains with a smile.
It encourages Sirius to continue, “Are there any dietary restrictions? Allergies I should be aware of? Religious foods maybe?”
She smiles so brightly and warmly at him, and Sirius can only guess that she is happy he is taking some initiative of his own.
“No, not as far as I’m aware,” She says, “Also, I’m sorry he couldn’t be here today. He’s in his creative writing process…” She trails off and looks thoughtful. Sirius is not sure if he should ask what that means.
Before he can, she continues with her no-nonsense business attitude as she explains, “We need to make sure he eats otherwise he simply forgets when he is in his creative writing process. I would need you to come in the morning with groceries, we will of course pay for it, cook breakfast and lunch. Then sometime in the afternoon a snack or something, and finally dinner in the evening. We need to make sure he eats. Does that work for you?”
Sirius nods eagerly. “I can make that work” He says, and he can make it work for sure. If anything it sounds perfect. No allergies, dietary restrictions, and complete and total control to cook whatever he sees fits. Four times a day. It is a job too good to be true.
“Perfect,” She exclaims loudly before Sirius can reply, “When will you be able to start?”
This takes Sirius off guard. He was not expecting a question like that so soon. They have not talked for that long. Marlene seems to think they are done with the conversation as she stands up. His flowy hair falls effortlessly around her shoulders.
“Uh. Well, I don’t have anything I need to quit currently” Sirius says, which is just a nice way to say he is unemployed and desperate, “When would you like me to start?”
He gets up as well but almost has to sit down again when Marlene replies, “Well, tomorrow would be perfect”
Sirius looks at her with shock and confusion first. “Uh. Sure. I can start tomorrow.”
Marlene laughs. She can clearly see that this has taken him by surprise.
“I’ll send the contract and NDA to you immediately. Read it, sign it and send it back,” She says, back to her business attitude.
“If you have any questions give me a call,” She finishes and follows him to the door.
Sirius follows her like a robot, his legs carrying him while his brain is elsewhere. “Alright, okay thank you. I’ll see you?” He says overwhelmed, the last thing asked like a question which he did not mean to.
She chuckles, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sirius”
And with that Sirius walks out the door, takes the elevator down and continues into the parking lot. He closes the car behind him and sits in his car for a minute. He made it. He got the job, and he starts tomorrow already. It feels unreal to think about. A big smile stretches across his face. Sure, it is intimidating suddenly having to cook for a celebrity but it might be a good opportunity for him.
Sirius rolls out from the parking lot, and it is only when he parks his car in front of his flat that he realises he never got the name of the person he will be cooking for.