Free Heat: A Bad Boy Chef Romance by Lila Moore

They don’t want to put any bad vibes out into the universe. They want this restaurant to be the best and they want to keep their jobs.
    I understood that Roche was acting from a place of concern, but I couldn’t help being a little annoyed with her. When lunch service started, I soon forgot my irritation. She worked faster than I’d ever seen her work before, and more importantly, everything she prepared tasted fantastic. It was like she was in the zone. She kept her focus on her work in front of her, finishing off dishes and preparing perfect hors d’oeuvres.
    “Nice job,” I said as lunch service came to an end.
    She didn’t hear me; she was too focused on perfecting one last hors d’oeuvres, a caramelized egg with Brussels sprouts. I waited for her to get it just right. She passed it off to me and I handed it to the server without giving it close inspection. I trusted her to do it right.
    “Good job everyone,” I said. “That was good practice for what we’ll be up against later. The food critic will be here for dinner service. The dishes should be perfect as always. Understand? Good. Now, I want-”
    Gwen came running into the kitchen, cutting me off. She entered through the dining area, meaning she’d been in the restaurant, eating and talking to customers.
    “Vincent, I need to speak with you in private,” she said.
    I didn’t like to be interrupted, especially not in front of my staff. “Good work today,” I said addressing the kitchen. “Let’s keep the energy going through dinner. I want the same level of quality, the same hard work. Our last dish of the night has to be as good as our first dish of the day.”
    “Yes, chef,” they responded.
    I led Gwen into my office to talk.
    “Boone loved his meal!” she squealed.
    She threw her arms around my neck, practically choking me. It wasn’t lost on me that she referred to the food critic by his first name.
    “What are you talking about? I thought he wasn’t coming till later.”
    “He lied. He always does this. He likes to experience restaurants the way they normally operate. Boone knows that chefs go to extraordinary lengths to please critics. He wanted a typical meal at the restaurant, not one that was specially prepared for him, and he loved it!” She bounced up and down like an excited child.
    “Good.”
    “ Good ? That’s it? You’re not thrilled? Do you have any idea how many people this will attract? Boone has the most popular foodie blog on the internet. People will come from out of state to try our food.”
    “We’re already at max capacity.”
    “We’ll have to squeeze more tables in.”
    “No.”
    “Vincent, we’ve talked about this.”
    “Yes, we have and the answer is still no. The restaurant already has too many tables. If you put any more in there people will be sitting on each other’s laps. It makes for a shitty dining experience.”
    “But-”
    “No but’s. I won’t allow it.”
    “Allow it?” she scoffed. “What makes you think I’m asking your permission? This is my restaurant, or did you forget that?”
    “Gwen-”
    “No, you listen to me. If you want to continue to run this restaurant, you’ll do as I say.”
    She was standing very close to me. Our bodies practically touched. There was an implication to her words I didn’t like. Gwen readjusted my collar, then kissed my cheek. I stood as still as a statue.
    “Behave yourself,” she said. “I want to see you tonight. After work, I want you to come over to my place and cook a meal for me. Can you do that?”
    Her hand slid down my chest and across my abs. I wanted to throw her out of my office, but I couldn’t do that. She could fire me in a heartbeat.
    “Yes,” I said, practically choking on my words.
    “Good.” She turned to leave, then stopped. “I almost forgot.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out my cell phone. “You forgot this at the bar last night.” She tossed it to me. I caught in and shoved it in my pocket.
    As Gwen