Sabrina Salad

Everyone in town knew the Demarco family, a bunch of liars, thieves, and drunks. I went to school with the four kids, and the oldest one frequently got suspended. The youngest was in my grade and always kept to himself doodling on every scrap of paper he owned. The teachers feared parent-teacher meetings because the dad always brought a flask and a knife. Their mother thought they were perfect children and would defend her oldest until she turned blue in the face.

On graduation day, the principal lined us up on stage and called us forward to receive our diploma's. The Demarco family sat in front except for the oldest, Ryan, who was in jail for the second time. The twin's, Cory and Rory, were being coddled by their mother, who was also holding their father up.

"Tiffany Campbell," called the principal.

I stepped forward as my parents cheered from the back of the crowd. She handed me the rolled-up slip of paper then I walked off the stage and joined my parents.

She called more of my classmates, and their relatives cheered as they collected their diploma's. All was going well until Jamie Demarco didn't step forward. The principal called his name several times, but he never appeared on stage. The Demarco family stood up and started searching the crowd only to find nothing.

I went to University that September and studied to become a journalist. The first Christmas, I went home for a week, but my family and the townspeople were very hostile. I couldn't walk down the street without whispers and glares from the gossipy ladies and people I once called friends.

"She thinks she's above us 'cause she goes to that fancy school," sneered the clerk.

"Yeah, look at those clothes. I bet they're name brand," mocked the customer.

"You know she drives an unusual car now," said another.

I didn't bother looking back, I knew who was talking, and one of them was my mother.

When I got back to the house, I packed my stuff into my car and left my gifts. After that, I didn't return home for another holiday. I chose to work on my dream job of becoming a food critic under the name of Sabrina Salad.

In University, my blog became so well known I got requests from restaurants for reviews. My friends unknowingly would quote my blog and would take me to all the places I reviewed.

Four years later, I graduated with no debt, and my blog grew exponentially. Sabrina Salad became a name that customers relied on, and restauranteurs sought out.

Friends of mine only knew I was a freelance journalist for The Star and never questioned when I took them out.

Three years later, I heard about a new Italian place called Marco's that I planned to review on its opening night. One of my girlfriend's, Lindsay, joined me that Friday night for the food and wine I always ordered.

The modern decor with touches of Italy set the mood, and the waitstaff were so friendly. Prompt service and authentic food were going in my notes, and the owner was walking around greeting guests.

The tall, well-dressed man with curly dark hair approached our table with the dessert's we ordered. I looked up to thank him when all of a sudden, it hit me.

"Jamie Demarco?"

"Tiffany, wow, it's been a while."

"It certainly has I-"

"Sorry, I hear someone calling my name. Please enjoy your desserts, ladies. Tiffany, will you please come back tomorrow for lunch? I'd love to catch up with you," he said as he walked over to his hostess.

Lindsay winked at me as she sipped her wine and finished her dessert. The ambience of the night was delightful, and I'll post my review in a week or two.

The next day I arrived at the restaurant and found it was closed, but the lights were on. I looked around to see if anyone was there, but no one showed their faces for fifteen minutes. As I began to call a cab, the door opened, and Jamie stepped out dressed in another suit.

"Tiffany! I'm so happy you came. Please come in, I've arranged for us to have a special lunch."

"I'm relieved you came out, I almost called for a ride home," I replied as I followed him to the back.

We entered the kitchen, I noticed a table with two place settings and a glass of Merlot in front of each small bowl of soup.

"I hope you don't mind sampling my upcoming lunch menu. It's going to be for business lunches, but I thought you'd enjoy tasting it with me."

He pulled out my chair then sat across from me, and we clinked our glasses.

"This soup is delicious, you're chef is fantastic."

"Glad you think so. Do you go back home often?"

I laughed and almost spilt my wine, "No, I don't. I haven't thought of that little town in years."

"Funny, neither had I until I saw you last night, and it all came back. What was grad like?"

"An absolute gong show, I wish I could've disappeared like you did. Where did you go?"

He blushed as he took a sip of wine while a server brought out the next course.

"I bought a bus ticket and left early that morning with a small suitcase and my laptop. I came here cause it's the farthest away I could get from that town without leaving this continent."

"Hah, I made the mistake of going back for Christmas during my first year of school. After the unwelcoming experience, I decided to stay here."

Sample plates kept coming as we finished the food and commented on which ones were better or needed improvement.

During the next two weeks, Jamie took me on a few dates to different places from my blog. When my review of Marco's went up, he called the day after and asked me if I'd read it.

We met up for lunch, but Jamie's intentions seemed unclear until he brought up Sabrina Salad.

"She was there opening night," he smiled at me, "and I think I know who it was."

"That's amazing, I'm sure your place will be busier than ever."

"I'm booked solid for the next six months, and I would like to thank her personally."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

He slid an envelope across the table with my name written on it. Inside was a card and two first-class tickets to Thailand and a brochure for a five-star resort.

"I think she will be happy to join me there where we will go to a new restaurant every night."

"One of these is in my name, how come?"

"You were there opening night, and over the last couple of weeks, I've noticed you know a lot about food. You've fooled your friends, but I recognized something you said about me from that night."

"What do you mean?"

My nightmare unravelled before my eyes, so I took a sip of water to calm down.

"Your secret is safe with me, Tiff," he winked as he finished his sandwich.