"So, what's your name?"
"Dalilah ... Dalilah Ricci."
"Okay. Help us make the watermelon smoothie. Look at the recipe book; it should be around page six," I said as I prepared the wok for ham fried rice. Jason brought to me cold rice from the fridge.
The girl huffed and puffed, but got to work. She was quite young, probably a year younger than I was. She was decently tall, perhaps 167 or 168 cm tall, and slightly plump. Her skin colour was similar to Amy's: light brown. Her face was almost distinctively Italian (based on my experience watching my Italian classmates in school).
"Hey, mate, she's so bratty," Jason complained.
"I didn't think Principal Adams would send this kind of person our way."
An hour later, hell, I mean, break time, broke loose.
"Hey, don't get the smoothie in my soup!" one student complained.
"Shut up, damn it!" Dalilah hotly fought back, "it's just a bit! That's why you should put your glass far from the soup bowl, idiot."
"Hush, hush!" I barked. "Sorry, Jackson. Here, let me substitute the soup."
I removed the contaminated bowl of soup. Jason hurriedly handed me a new one and I quickly put the new bowl of soup on Jackson's tray. I took the liberty, with my staff, to put Dalilah in her place.
"You are never to be impolite to the students, especially not unprovoked!" I half-screamed.
"Oh, come on!" Dalilah said. "Tiny mistake."
"No, it's not!" I said again.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, I'm going to the toilet."
I sat down. "Oh, whatever deity is up there, why do you have to test me like this? I've held this position for just a few weeks and bullshit like this has happened," I murmured.
"Chill mate, we got your back," Jason said. The other staffed members agreed in unison.
But Dalilah became worse. She was ... ah, forget it. I had to stop Janet, my most skilled dessert maker, from punching her in the face. "ENOUGH!" I barked. My staff and I signed a joint petition asking for the termination of Dalilah's internship.
Exhausted and battered, I went to the principal's office to deliver the petition after my staff, including Dalilah, went home. But I was halted just a few dozen metres away from the office by a woman. She was just as tall as Dalilah, her skin slightly yellow. Her eyes were slightly slanted. She wore a trench coat.
"Whew, is she East Asian? It's rare to see one in this part of town," I whispered.
"Excuse me, are you Mr John Baker, the chief-of-staff of the cafetaria?"
"Yes, I am. And who are you, if I may ask?"
"I am Yuko Ricci, Dalilah's sister ... please, could we talk?"
"Sorry, but I need to deliver this petition."
Yuko stepped forward. "Yes, it's about that. Please, please let us have a talk."
I was reluctant, but I agreed. We talked at a local coffee shop. "Coffee?" I asked after ordering a cappucino and an order of churros.
"No, thank you."
"It's on me," I say, feeling generous after realizing I also received a 30 percent wage increase thanks to my promotion.
"Thanks ..."
Our orders arrived. "So, what do you want to talk about."
"Please ... please don't terminate Dalilah's internship."
I raised an eyebrow. "I can't do that," I said flatly. "She's incompetent, unwilling to cooperate and learn, and impolite."
"Please! This is my family's only hope!"
I raised both eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe ... I should talk about our background first. Both Dalilah and I were adopted by the Ricci family. The Riccis are successful businessmen and politicians, so we had an easy life. I think that led to Dalilah's behaviour."
Yuko sipped her coffee anxiously. "It all ended two months ago. The Ricci family apparently were corrupt, all of them except us. It's not very popular in the media, but the entirety of my family was imprisoned and their wealth taken. We had nothing but some savings of mine. I'm now working as a part time science teacher, but Dalilah has no skills. Luckily, Principal Adams had a grandson with whom I am friends. I pulled that string and landed Dalilah her internship."
Hana looked at me. "Please, Dalilah and I are so financially struggling now. And ... and if Dalilah is terminated, it will be a black mark for her career. She won't be employed easily."
"Look, I take pity on your predicament. But, please, consider it from my perspective. I need to make sure there is an amicable work environment for my staff and I need to provide nutritious food and good service for the students."
"I understand. Which is why I came here with an offer."
Yuko looked left and right, making sure there were no people. She suddenly opened her trench coat, revealing her naked body and her plump bosom. She closed it again immediately.
"What a flirty girl you are, Yuko."
"Amy!"
Amy sat next to me. "Uh, Amy-"
"Shut up, John. I know you didn't tell her to do that. What the fuck is happening here?"
Yuko repeated her explanation. "Okay, I get it. So, what's your offer?"
"I ... it's not something you should know."
"After you flashed your tits on my boyfriend, it is."
"I will provide you sexual service for a month ... if ... if you spared Dalilah."
Amy nearly spurted out her coffee. She looked at Amy in disbelief.
"I'm not interested in your offer," I said, glancing at Amy. "But I understand your plight. What about this: I'll give you one week. Try and talk to your sister so that her behaviour could be fixed."
Yuko bowed slightly. "Thank you very much."
Amy and I went to my house for a sleepover. After watching TV for a while, we slept (in the literal sense) together. I heard a strange sound.
"Amy, you heard that?" I asked.
"Yeah."
We woke up and took flashlights. We descended to the first floor and turned on the lights.
"Dalilah?!" I bellowed. Dalilah was in the living room, trying to steal my TV. She hurriedly ran.
"HEY!" Amy and I gave chase, but Dalilah had escaped via the front door.
"Damn it! She's a thief!" I cursed. I noticed an opened cupboard. I immediately checked.
"Did she steal anything?" Amy asked worriedly.
"The necklace!" I gasped. When Amy and I were forced to break up, we gave each other a bronze necklace. It was stolen.
"My gift to you?"
"Uh-huh. And forty thousand bucks I prepared for house remodeling." Damn it. It was 40 percent of my annual income! Lucky me that I worked in an uber-elite school littered with millionaires.
Suddenly, Amy's phone rang.
"Hello, Mrs Kingsley?" Amy answered her neighbor.