The usual protocol would have Lars, Fundament's Manager and unofficial Maitre d', guide the guests to their table. But because this first dress rehearsal service was for friends and family, Roz got to seat Lærke and her parents. Roz was so excited to see her bestie's folks again as she hadn't seen them live in about two years. Lærke's quirky father, Albret, was always trying to give Roz facts about Denmark. (Just like Lærke!) As Roz greeted them on this special night and led them to their table, Lærke's father didn't disappoint, inquiring, "Roz, have I ever told you that your last name Thurgood is derived from an Old Norse name, Thorgautr?" Although he mentioned this fact every time they met, Roz would give the same reply, "That's interesting Mr. Sorensen. So my ancestors must be Danish then." And without fail, Lærke's father would retort, "Well of course they were, because England was dissected by the Danelaw for almost ninety-years. There's Norse blood teaming through your veins." This exchange would always get an eye-roll and snicker from Lærke and her mother. While Roz's greeting with the Sorensen family was casual, once she started her service, she was all business. Roz's presentation, explanation and delivery of the Fundament menu was flawless. She could tell that Lærke and her folks were truly impressed.

Mikkel arrived at the Sonrensen's table just as the dessert course arrived - iced goat cream spun into the shape of a frozen nordic pond, topped with mint leaves trimmed to look like pine needles. "Godaften," Mikkel said cordially, greeting everyone. Lærke and her parents all stood to hug Mikkel and quickly shared their thoughts on the restaurant. Roz could only assume they were saying nice things as they, of course, conversed in Danish. Then Mrs. Sorensen asked almost rhetorically, "So what do you think about this fine English server, Mikkel?" The Head Chef looked towards Roz and smiled, "Well, you're the guests, you tell me, how was your service?" Of course they all gave Roz a glowing yet slightly biased over-the-top review. Mikkel took it all in and replied, "Well this is good to know. I think we shall keep you Roz, at least for a couple more shifts." Roz could only crack a small grin as she could feel her cheeks blooming with embarrassment. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the slightly over-served Lærke blurted out, "Mikkel, did you know that my best friend is not just the world's finest server, she is also an amazing journalist?" But before Roz could stop Lærke's loose lips, she added, "She's even written articles for EATLDN." An impressed Mikkel turned to Roz and queried, "Really Roz? I love following EATLDN." Albret piped in and asked, "What's an EatLondon?" Mikkel replied, "Uncle, it's a great blog that covers the finest restaurants, highlights the best up-and-coming food trends as well as gives the most amazing reviews. EATLDN can make or break a restaurant." Roz could barely speak, only able to mutter, "Well, it was really only one article." Before Mikkel went on to the next table, he jokingly chirped, "Roz, I hope you're not some sort of spy from EATLDN. I can't afford any bad press." They all laughed as Mikkel moved on, except for Roz, who just stood frozen at the head of the table. Mrs. Sorensen looked at Roz and exclaimed, "My goodness Roz, you've looked like you've seen a ghost." Roz didn't know how to reply, nor how to move. Thankfully, Lærke's father jumped in saying, "Like the ghost of Hamlet's father? You do know that Hamlet was the Prince of Denmark?" In unison, Lærke and her mother immediately barked, "Enough!"

Roz took the opportunity to excuse herself to the kitchen. This is the last thing I wanted Mikkel to know about, Roz fretfully pondered. Just then she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Preben. "Hey Lars is letting everyone go earlier tonight. Some of us are thinking of going out somewhere." Preben's offer snapped Roz back into the moment. "You know Preben, I could go for one or two of those Danish hot dogs right about now," Roz earnestly confessed. "Cool," said Preben,"we can go to Johns Hotdog Deli. It's in the Meatpacking District . That's the best place to go for a late night dog and some drinks. I'll grab the others and meet you out front." "For sure. It's cool if I bring my friend Lærke?" Roz calmly asked, masterfully hiding her excitement. Preben then flashed a big smile and stated, "Helt bestemt. That's definitely in Danish." After bidding good evening to Lærke's parents, Roz locked arms with her bestie and jumped into a three passenger Taxa rickshaw with Preben. In Danish, he directed the driver to head to the Meatpacking District. Squished in the middle Lærke shot a large-eyed look at Roz and stated, "So Preben did you know that's the neighbourhood where Roz is living?" Preben leaned forward to look at Roz and said, "That's cool. So Roz, you won't have far to walk home. Or stumble, if we have too many drinks." Preben then leaned back, texting the others to coordinate a rendezvous point. Roz took Preben's moment of distraction to slightly scold her friend. "Lærke, you really dropped me in it with Mikkel. Why did you have to bring up me writing for EATLDN?" Roz huffed. The slightly inebriated and uninhibited Lærke rebutted in a loud whisper, " I guess because you've been so secretive about it, I just subconsciously forced the issue. Why all the secrecy with EATLDN anyway?" Roz knew that her most trusted confidante was right. It was time for Roz to disclose all the unpleasant details.

Roz took in a deep breath then began to divulge everything, "When the editor of EATLDN approached me about the assignment, she told me that the thrust of the article was to be, how did she put it, 'a more behind-the-scenes piece about a cherished London eatery in the heart of Covent Garden.' Soon after I started as a server working undercover, it only took a couple shifts before I befriended Anthony, the youngest son of the family and manager of the restaurant. My charming nature made it so that he quickly felt very comfortable sharing some 'insider information' with me." Getting worked up, Roz took a moment to catch her breath, then continued, "Anthony shared some staff gossip as well as some family secrets, and even though some of the intel was interesting, it was by no means overly scandalous, nor very salacious. After working as a mole for about three months or so, I submitted my story to the editor who then completely reconfigured my words, reimagining the article, twisting it into a scathing, sensationalized exposé about this truly lovely little family run restaurant." At this point Roz got a little emotional, so Lærke gave her friend a hug encouraging her to continue. "As soon as the anonymous piece came out, the restaurant's patronage completely dropped off. After two months of this irreversible downward slide, this lovely London dining institution shut down permanently." Roz could feel her chest tighten with feelings of guilt and culpability. As her lips quivered, she conceded, "And rather than own up to my part in this sordid affair, I ran away from London to come hide out here. I'm such a coward." Roz's tumultuous tale seemed to instantly sober Lærke up. "So that's why you were so eager to come and work at my cousin's restaurant," concluded Lærke. Roz, brushing a tear from her eye, just nodded. "Well Roz, it's really not your fault. It's that devious editor. She is truly the villain in all this, not you," Lærke supportively exclaimed. "I suppose you're right Lærke. Thanks," Roz muttered, "I just feel really bad for Anthony and his family. There are very nice people." Just then the Taxa came to a halt as Preben announced, "We have arrived in a foodie's paradise - Kødbyens!"

Having completely forgotten about his presence, Roz wondered how much Preben overheard as the trio exited their chariot style cab. The other taxis arrived moments apart, and the group went en masse to Johns Hotdog Deli, each ordering their own preferred customized Danish dog. Lærke instinctively stayed behind as Preben ordered a couple beers for himself and Roz, walking over to an empty picnic table together. "What did you think of our first shift Roz?" Preben inquired while he took his first bite of his classically dressed hot dog. Roz lifted her bottle of beer, clinking it with Preben's and declared, "Mate, I think we bloody killed it." Preben smiled and confessed, "To be honest, I was silently freaking out my whole shift, hoping not to make any mistakes. I've admired Mikkel for so long now. He's like the Rockstar of Nordic cuisine. If it wasn't for my cousin, Lars, I don't think Mikkel would have taken a chance on me." Roz was impressed with Preben's honesty and passion. "Like you, I'm thrilled to be working at FUNDAMENT. And you're right, Mikkel is very, how should I put this... particular." Preben nodded in agreement and then disclosed, "He's fixated on freshness and having knowledge of the source of every element. I've heard that if he doesn't know precisely where an ingredient comes from, he refuses the order." Roz suddenly slipped into reporter mode and egged Preben on. "Fascinating. Tell me more." Preben then added, "I've also heard that if some seafood order isn't fresh that day, and he finds out, he'll actually take the fish off a guest's plate, whether or not they've started eating it." Roz raised her brow and wondered, "That sounds like a bit of hyperbole." Preben just laughed, "I think you're right. But it just adds to Mikkel's mystique." The pair each downed another dog, grabbed another beer, then joined the others at another set of outdoor tables. They all laughed and carried-on for another couple hours, until Roz hit a wall of exhaustion. Everyone agreed it was time to call it a night, and evacuated the area by jumping into various types of cabs. Roz conveniently had only a fifty metre stroll back to her apartment building block. As she rode the vintage elevator, she reflected on the evening. While she was originally upset with Lærke for exposing her connection to EATLDN to Mikkel, she was definitely relieved to have it all out in the open. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Roz fell into bed, drifted off, thinking that she had definitely turned the page on her sordid London life. Surely none of that drama could possibly follow her to Copenhagen.