Page 10 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

“You’re not bored already?” I replied. “I’m impressed.”

Simone was checking something on her phone. Probably making sure our team’s social media pages were posting the right quotes, the right shots, the right vibe.

I tipped my drink back and let the burn anchor me. This wasn’t my scene. It never had been. I belonged in kitchens, not stages. Give me a pan over a podium any day.

But as much as I hated the show, the attention, the ass-kissing, I knew what this tour could do. It was all about feeding hungry kids. And it went a long way toward earning me some goodwill.

Conroy elbowed me. “Don’t look now, but I think the influencers spotted you.”

“Fantastic.”

“Stop it,” Simone snapped.

“You know what I could be doing right now?” I said. “Roasting duck. Grilling lamb ribs. Perfecting a plate. That’s how I contribute. Not… this.” I waved vaguely toward the room. “This is noise.”

“The noise is part of the job,” Simone said. “If you don’t like it, go flip burgers in a late night diner.”

I sighed and took another drink. “Don’t tempt me. That diner would have a Michelin star in a year.”

She laughed. “And then the noise would start all over again. There’s no escape.”

I looked around the room, maybe for a way out, when I spotted someone I didn’t know.

But I wanted to.

“Who is that?” I asked my friends.