My Girlfriend Chose a Rich Man, Then My Money Started Multip

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

At eight that evening, Noah was reviewing the sales report when his phone buzzed with a system notification.

[New Mission Available]

[Mission: Maintain 90% Customer Satisfaction for 7 Consecutive Days.]

[Reward: Level 3 Unlock.]

Noah read the requirements twice before leaning back in his chair.

Seven days at a customer satisfaction rate of at least ninety percent. Given how well Golden Plate had been doing lately, the target seemed reasonable enough.

"All right. Let's get started." He slipped his phone into his pocket and headed for the dining room.

Dinner service was in full swing. Nearly every table was occupied, servers hurried between the kitchen and dining area, and conversations filled the restaurant. Noah made a round of the room, keeping an eye on the service without interrupting anyone's meal.

A woman asked for extra sauce. A couple near the window complimented their dessert. At another table, a man asked whether Golden Plate accepted reservations for family gatherings.

Everything seemed to be running smoothly.

Noah was about to return to his office when a server hurried toward the kitchen.

"Chef Ethan, Daniel's sick. He's been throwing up in the staff room and can't finish his shift."

Ethan looked up from the orders he was checking. "Has anyone arranged to take him home?"

"Yes, Chef. But who's going to cover his station?"

Ethan glanced at the tickets piling up along the kitchen rail. "I'll take it. Get someone from prep to help if you need to."

The server hurried away. Ethan tightened his apron and moved to Daniel's station.

For the first few minutes, he managed to keep things under control. Then the orders kept coming. Two other cooks struggled to clear the appetizers while Ethan handled the main courses, many of which required more time and attention.

Noah was speaking with a customer when a server approached him. "Sir, I'm sorry, but they've been waiting almost forty minutes."

He followed her gaze to a table where two customers had nearly finished their appetizers. Their main courses still hadn't arrived.

Noah walked over.

"I'm sorry about the wait. Could you tell me what you ordered?"

After hearing their answer, he checked the order on the server's tablet. Their meals had been sitting in the kitchen queue far too long.

"I'll look into it right away."

One of the customers nodded, though the impatience on his face was hard to miss.

Noah headed straight for the kitchen.

Ethan was working two stations at once. Another cook had stepped in to help with the preparation, but there was no one available to take over the rest of the workload.

"How many orders are backed up?" Noah asked.

"Eleven main courses." Ethan moved a pan off the burner and checked the next ticket. "Give me twenty minutes, assuming no new orders come in."

Noah glanced toward the incoming tickets. "We both know that's not happening."

"Then you understand the problem."

The ingredients were ready, the equipment was working, and the rest of the staff were doing their jobs. They simply didn't have enough hands to keep up with the main courses.

Noah reached for a clean apron hanging nearby.

"Tell me what I can do."

Ethan looked at him, apparently waiting for the punchline. "You're coming into my kitchen?"

"I'm not going to pretend I can cook like you. But I can take something off your hands."

Ethan let out a breath and pointed toward the preparation counter. "Fine. Wash your hands first. Then help with the plates and check each ticket before the food goes out. Stay away from the stoves unless I tell you otherwise."

"Got it."

Noah washed his hands, tied on the apron, and took his place beside the counter. His job was straightforward: match each finished dish to its order and get it to the waiting server.

He made a few mistakes at first, stopping to double-check table numbers. Ethan caught him just before he handed a dish to the wrong server.

"Check the ticket before you pick up the plate," Ethan said. "Sending food to the wrong table will only give us another problem to deal with."

Noah nodded and paid closer attention.

The work wasn't complicated, but it freed Ethan to concentrate on cooking instead of managing the finished orders. Within minutes, the backlog began to shrink then Noah's phone vibrated inside his apron pocket.

He pulled it out.

[Customer Satisfaction: 89%]

The score had dropped below the required threshold.

Another notification appeared beneath it.

[Mission Failure Imminent.]

[Time Remaining: 2 Hours.]

Noah stared at the screen before slipping it away.

Two hours.

He still had time to turn things around, but throwing money at the problem wouldn't help. New equipment or another chef might make a difference in the long run. Neither would get dinner onto the tables tonight.

He turned back to the order rail. "How many of those eleven are done?"

"Five," Ethan replied. "Six left."

"Good. Let's get the rest out."

"If you can somehow stop new orders from coming in for half an hour, I'd appreciate it."

Noah shot him a look. "I haven't figured out how to control the customers yet."

"Then we'd better work faster."

Noah almost laughed, but a call from the dining room caught his attention. A customer was asking for a server for the second time.

He left the kitchen and found Maya helping a server rearrange tables for an incoming group.

"Maya, how many reservations haven't arrived yet?"

She checked the list on her tablet. "Six tables. Why?"

"Call them. Let them know the kitchen is running behind and ask whether they'd be willing to push their arrival back by thirty minutes. Don't pressure anyone who's already on the way."

Maya immediately understood. "You want to ease the pressure on the kitchen."

"Just long enough for us to catch up."

"All right. I'll handle it."

"One more thing. For the tables who've been waiting too long, offer complimentary drinks or appetizers. Make sure the servers explain what's happening, though. I don't want anyone thinking we're trying to distract them from the problem."

Maya nodded and began making the calls.

Noah returned to the kitchen and went over the remaining tickets with Ethan before taking on another task. "Which ones can we finish first?"

Ethan pointed to three tickets. "These are almost ready. Once they're out, I can focus on the dishes that take longer."

"Then finish those first. I'll make sure the servers collect them immediately."

Ethan got back to work while Noah organized the finished plates and checked each order before it left the kitchen.

They were still running behind. Several customers had waited longer than they should have, and one server had to apologize to a table whose meals still weren't ready. But the backlog was finally coming under control.

About twenty minutes later, the line of tickets had thinned considerably.

Ethan wiped the sweat from his forehead. "If nothing else goes wrong tonight, we might actually survive this."

Noah glanced at the clock on the wall. "Don't jinx it."

Ethan snorted. "You walked into my kitchen, and everything went to hell."

"I own the restaurant."

"And I'm the one cooking for everyone in it."

Noah laughed under his breath and headed back into the dining room.

Most tables had received their main courses. He checked on the couple who had complained earlier, making sure their order was correct this time. The man still looked annoyed, but after taking a few bites, he gave a small nod and continued eating.

Noah had no idea whether the experience would change their opinion of Golden Plate. He couldn't even be sure their efforts would be enough to save the mission.

At least the immediate problem was under control.

He checked his phone again.

[Customer Satisfaction: 89%]

Noah frowned.

The delayed orders were going out. The most urgent complaints had been addressed, and Maya was making sure the waiting customers weren't being ignored.

So why hadn't the score moved?

He opened the mission details and searched for an explanation, but the system offered no information about how it calculated customer satisfaction.

Before he could investigate further, a server called from the dining room.

"Mr. Noah? There's a customer asking to speak with you."

Noah put his phone away and followed her.

Two hours remained, but he couldn't afford to sit back and hope the situation would fix itself.

If the score hadn't budged despite the kitchen catching up, something else was wrong. And he needed to find out what it was before the system declared his mission a failure.