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Ain’t No Business
Chapter One

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Ororo put the last chair on the table and took a deep well deserved sigh. The night had gone spectacularly. They sold every seat in the restaurant tonight, had seven parties of ten and more from eleven when they opened to closing. It was exhausting. But, thanks to her unbelievable waiting staff, talented chefs (including those sent from heaven sous chefs) the day went on flawlessly.

She thanked her lucky stars for the luck of the rumor bush that grew under neath the host podium. Someone had mentioned to someone else’s dentist who knew someone from a magazine who was looking for a restaurant to review. When the review was out it was glowing. Unfortunately it was a small sub culture magazine that had a small readership to it. As it turned out, one of those readers just happened to be a huge East Coast food critic.

Christine Kane could be an evil bitch. She had recently put three high profile restaurant into the ground. Every restauranteur absolutely dreaded a visit from her. She was known to have the most acute taste buds and she did not discriminate from a simple mom and pop diner to a five star black tie establishment.

Two things made Christine very dangerous. One was that she did not work for a particular magazine. She was a freelance critic. Her reports made it into Vogue and Elle, and the ranged to local newspapers and ethnic magazines. So, people all over new her or had heard about her. When the success got her to be noticed she tried to keep her profile low. Everyone seemed to always know when she would “randomly” show up. So, she took to using disguises. This generally worked, except that people still managed to know she was coming, but she took it for what its worth and loved the fact that it kept everybody on their toes. One of her favorite disguises was a combination of Chuck Norris and Tom Brokoff.

Ororo and her crew knew that Chuck Norris nor Tom Brokoff visited mid-town Manhattan restaurants so that was a big red alert when they took a good look at this particular party of one. One of the hostesses noticed that despite the side burns and beard “Chuck Tom” had no adam’s apple. Not that there was anything wrong with being a drag king, but it just seemed a little off.

The restaurant, By the Goddess, was known to be one of the mos flexible places for a meal. Patrons could order on and off the menu on the fly. At first it was just to accommodate special diets, but now it was a signature of the Goddess. Ororo was able to quickly find out that the critic was a huge fan of curried beef pies. Her cooks were able to take the prime rib that was there and grind it up with a sweet yogurt curry mix topped with fennel seeds seared in a sherry sauce. Served along side the beef pies was a mango green apple and corn spicy salsa.

When she was in the kitchen dictated the appetizer to the cooking staff, they stopped in their tracks and stared at her with open mouths, but they pulled it off. When the critic left with a complete three course meal and a huge sated grin the whole spontaneous meal was forever added to the menu.

After the last of the customers left for the night, the entire crew celebrated how for the first time since opening four months ago, nothing went wrong. Costumers didn’t whine, complain, or barf, meals weren’t sent back, wine wasn’t stolen, no dine and dashers, and no broken dishes. Ororo had ok’d a celebratory bottle of champagne to be opened and shared.

Now that everything was over, she took a well deserved break. Life just couldn’t get any better. Just as she had taken of her heels, which made her tall frame obnoxiously taller, she heard someone knocking on the door with the closed sign on it.

Grumbling and not bothering for her shoes she stumbled to the door in a slight hurry to tell them verbally what the sign said.

There at the door was a very smart looking short but slightly portly blond in a sandy trench coat. Even through liquored up hazy eyes, Ororo thought that she recognized the woman. Her eyes widened and the woman smiled and waved. She opened up the door.

“Hello Ms. Monroe. My name is Christine Kane. I came in here earlier.”

“Omigod. I know who you are. Good gracious, I don’t know what to say.”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure of course.” Ororo moved to the side to let the woman in. She offered her guest a glass of red wine, and she looked eternally grateful.

“So, Ms. Kane...”

“Please call me Christine.”

Ororo couldn’t help but to smile as a lot of the tension eased up. “How can I help you?”

“When I came in today I was astounded by your staff and the dishes that were prepared, just for me. And, yes, I know that you knew that I was coming today.”

“Well, uhm...ok.” Ororo response sounded just as confused as she looked.

“I had just happened to take some take home dishes home to my husband and he loved them just as much as I did. He wouldn’t shut up about the deep fried mahi mahi.”

“Fantastic I hope to see the two of you in here again then.”

“Oh, you definitely will. Looks like I’ll be in here often because you have a completely different menu every night. Hold on, let me get to the point before I get off track. My husband is about to start work on a newly greenlit project.”

“What does your husband do?”

“He works in score editing in film. As it turns out the crew is looking for a caterer.” She gave Ororo a non to subtle raised eyebrow.

“What are you kidding me? I don’t cater. Seriously, I can barely handle this joint. We just opened up four months ago.”

“If this is such a hassle, why are you looking to expand?”

Ororo’s eyes darted back and forth, very much like a deer in the headlights. “How did you know that?”

“Your not the only one with access to the rumor mill. Personally I think it’s genius. You’ve built up a spicy reputation in such a short time, and with your popularity and prices, the new Goddess just can’t fail. So, is it also true your opening up in Philadelphia next year?”

“Is anything sacred anymore?”

Christine nearly snorted out the last of her wine.

“So, about this new job. Is the movie filming here in New York?”

“No. Once filming commences it’ll start in a studio in L.A. Afterwards it might go to wherever the script says to go and the budget allows.”

“Oooooh. Is it one of those big blockbuster movies ”

“Well, that would depend on the studio executives. I never really understood anything about the politics behind movies.”

“Do you know what it’s going to be about?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Not in the least.” Both women outright laughed at this.

“It’s about feudal Japan, ninjas, and the Dutch East India trading company. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Interesting. I’m going to have to think about it, ok.”

“I knew it This is fantastic. Well I will have my husband’s friend call you with the details sometime tonight He knows a lot about what’s going on. He’s in cinematography.” Christine gathered up her things in a flurry and sprinted towards the door.

“Wait Hold on a second. Don’t you need my number?”

“I got it from the hostess when I left earlier. You are an angel ” With that the critic disappeared in a taxi.

If Ororo was wearing shoes she would have kicked the table. She had been wondering why Karen had been giving her all those sly looks.

She didn’t want to think about how this could be a wonderful opportunity for her business. A chance to get high profile clientele on the west coast. This was genius She absolutely refused to think that on the taxi ride home. Well, she tried to think that, and she failed miserably.

The moment she stepped into her studio loft she heard her phone ringing. Oh yeah, Karen was dead tomorrow. She kicked her shoes across the room and leapt on the comfy love seat next to the cordless phone.

It was now or never.

She cleared her throat, “Hello?”

A deep and gravelly voice that made her toes curl and the hair *everywhere* rise, answered. “Is this Mrs. Monroe; my name is James Howlett? CK told me to call you tonight.”

“I wish.”

“Excuse me?”

Ororo giggled just a little. Wait...a giggle. Aw damn. “It’s just Ms.”

The voice on the other end just let out a low sigh. Almost a like a grumble. “Oh really?” There was a pause. “I think I’m calling for a reason.”

And so the conversation went along the lines of business. Ororo truly felt a passion stir from this man, who obviously loved what he did for a living. She couldn’t help but to be inspired. It was also more than nice to hear a man that was interested in her cooking skills. Most men were interested in what she could do for them.

“So, Ms Monroe, does the offer sound good? Or does the pot need to be sweetened?”




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