Chapter 0225
Chapter 0225
“Look, I know how you feel,” he says, growing exasperated himself. “But with the way my approval
ratings are dropping right now in my pack, if word got out that I was working as ‘just a sous chef’ for my
ex-wife, people would go feral. It would be a nightmare. For both of us.”
“You’re overthinking it,” I retort. “Trust me, Karl. We’ll keep your identity hidden. I promise.”
He sighs deeply, a troubled look crossing his face. “Look, why don’t you just call Adam? He could help
you. And honestly, he kind of owes you.”
The name hits me like a bucket of cold water, instantly raising my hackles. “Adam? Really, Karl? Is that
your solution?”
He looks confused, taken aback by my sudden vehemence. “Why not? He’s in the same field; he has
the skills. You two know each other well.”
I shake my head, my eyes narrowed. “Adam and I could never work together in the kitchen. We’re like
oil and water. Plus, he has his own restaurant; how would it look if he[s my sous chef?”
“What do you mean?” Karl asks, genuinely perplexed.
“Imagine the gossip that would start if Adam helps me win this competition. People will think we’re
colluding, or worse, that he’s got ulterior motives. That maybe he would be trying to secretly cater the
Alpha party on his own. My sous chef can’t have any strings attached, Karl,” I say, staring at him,
willing him to understand.
Karl seems lost, his eyes searching mine.
“I…” he begins, but then stops, looking flabbergasted.
I sigh, passing my hand over my face. The clock is ticking: 7:45 a.m. I’m running out of time. I need to
be at the studio by 9 at the latest, and it’s all the way on the other side of the city. It’ll take me a solid 45
minutes to get there on foot, even with the help of the subway.
Then, suddenly, I have an idea.
“Karl,” I say, taking a step closer to him, “do you remember that time four years ago, when we were still
married? We had to prep for Leah’s surprise birthday party. You jumped in to help me last-minute, and
we were like... a well-oiled machine,” I say, pleading with him with my eyes.
He looks up at me, his eyes searching mine, and for a second, I can see what looks like recognition
flash through his gaze.
“Yeah, I remember,” he says softly, dropping his eyes, “but Abby, we’ve been broken up for three years.
A lot can change in three years. You’re different. I’m different.”
“Chemistry doesn’t change, Karl. Skills may get rusty, but the way we worked together? That was
magic, and magic doesn't have an expiration date. Hell, think back to all of the times we’ve worked
together recently. The kitchen fire, the truffles, all of the dinner rushes…”
He stares at me, and I can see the gears turning in his head. “Do you really think we still have that sort
of... chemistry?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say, nodding. “Of course I do. In fact, I almost asked you to be my sous chef before I
asked John. But I chickened out, and now I wish I had asked you weeks ago, so we wouldn’t even be
here right now.”
His eyes lock onto mine, a world of unspoken words reflected in their depths. “Really? You were going
to ask me?”
He sighs, a mix of exhaustion and resignation, then finally nods. “Okay, Abby, I’ll do it. I’ll be your sous
chef.”
“Really?” My voice breaks, relief washing over me like a warm tide. Coոtent of Drąmanovеls.com
I look at him, my eyes watering from a mixture of relief and joy. “O-Of course,” I find myself saying,
nodding profusely. “Whatever works for you. I promise, Karl, no one will know.”
“Now,” he says, turning towards his bedroom, “give me five minutes to get ready. Let’s get you to that
cook-off.”NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.