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“Oh, sorry.” She blushes. “I spaced out,” she lies. “They are here to taste our whole menu?” It comes out as a question as if she’s not sure herself, and I decide to go see what all this means for myself.
“Back to your post,” I command. “And Bianca…” My voice turns that dangerous, saccharine sweet, and I see a shiver run up her back. “If you as much as look at my man again, let alone push your fake tits into his face, I will fire you on the spot, and you will never work in another high-end restaurant ever again.” Those blue eyes widen and fill with fear.
“I-I d-didn’t,” she stutters. “I’m s-sorry, I didn’t know.” Bianca looks up to Vas and then quickly lowers her gaze to the ground.
“I don’t give a damn. Now, this was your one and only warning. Disappear.” I flick my wrist in a scram motion, and she runs away on those high heels like her ass is on fire at the same time as Vassar’s warmth coats my back, and I feel his lips, his hot breath on my ear, sending a delicious shiver down my body.
“Is it your go-to to threaten with loss of employment?”
“It gets shit done, doesn’t it? Or did I ruin something for you?” The spark of my anger ignites again when I think about him with anyone else, but the bastard only chuckles lightly.
“I love it when that greenest of green devils comes out in your eyes,” he bites the shell of my ear, and I gasp. “But I will still get my answers, my witch.”
My feet flatter as I come to the table on the second floor where the two guests in question are seated because apparently Mr. Halter is no one other than Steven-fucking-clinger, and he is chatting happily with the one man who could potentially not kill but damage my reputation.
“Mr. Bloom,” I say when I step up to them, and he gets up to kiss my cheek in a greeting. Steven leans in to do the same, but I step away before his hand reaches me, and he retreats it awkwardly. What the hell is he thinking? Did that head of his catch one too many pucks lately?
“Miss Clark, or shall I say future Mrs. Halter?” He chuckles happily, and my brows furrow.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Oh, don’t worry.” He waves me off. “Steven already told me about your upcoming nuptials.”
I guess I didn’t grind all of my teeth to dust back in my office because I feel them crack under the strain I put on them now. I send a quick glare at Steven because he doesn’t deserve even one second of my time. “I am sorry, Mr. Bloom, but I think Steven here misinformed you greatly. I am not getting married to him, and neither am I seeing him for that matter, but what brings you in today?”
“Oh?” Mr. Bloom frowns. “Well, that’s a shame. I always thought family-oriented chefs were a blessing in our industry with so many cut-throat, single wolves. I’ve known the Halters for some time and when Steven here called me about his happy news, I jumped at the opportunity to do another feature on Conte de fée because of it, but I guess not.” The disappointment in his voice is evident, and I want to kill Steven even more now.
To be featured inBloommagazine is an honor and a huge accomplishment. To do it twice is to step above everyone else. But a third time? That is unheard of, and this idiot just cost me that third time.
I see it as plain as a day in that little smirk he is wearing. This asshole thought he could strong-arm me into a relationship with him, and a month ago, I just might have done anything to get that extra gold star at the top of the food chain, but not now. Not when my career has stopped being the center of my world.
Fuck. I didn’t even realize it until this moment. This day…the school trip.
“Maybe Mr. Halter here just didn’t explain it well,” Vassar’s throaty voice sounds behind me as his hand lands on the small of my back and he steps right next to me. “Mr. Bloom.” He dips his head down in a greeting and extends his hand to the older gentleman. “You see, Kira is taken by someone, but that someone is me, not Steven. But we greatly appreciate your help in spreading the word, Steven.” Vas sends a fake smile his way.
“Vassar Levidis, Kira Clark’s most prized Sous-chef,” Esteban nods in acknowledgment, puckering his lips as he mulls this new information over. “Well, I am so glad I misunderstood Stevie.” His face stretches into a huge grin. “This is even better.” He claps his hands together, forgetting the grim and pissed Steven sitting next to him. “A kitchen romance. A partnership. That’s wonderful. Now, let’s taste what you two can do together, shall we?” Mr. Bloom looks at us with excitement and gleaming eyes.
He really does find this wonderful, and once again, this man standing next to me saves me without a second thought. His hand doesn’t leave my back as we turn around and walk away from them.
“I will enjoy punishing you for this so fucking much.” His words should not sound as good as they do as he whispers them into my ear.
“For what?”
“For thinking about it. For considering it,” he grits out.
“What?”
“Being with that idiot! Being with Steven-fucking-dead-man-walking because Bloom thought it was a good idea.”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t, hm?” He stops and twists me around until my back hits the wall in the hallway in front of the kitchen. “I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes.”
I can’t help the smirk tugging on my face and the liquid fire spreading through my chest because the only one I thought about having that kind of life with—the one I can’t have—with was the furious, jealous man in front of me.
“I see I’m not the only one with that green devil in my eyes today.”
Chapter thirty-four
