"Walk for me, " he told her, pushing her a bit ahead of himself in the direction of the hotel. "Don't look back, miss."Vaguely she wondered if he mean... that literally or figuratively, so she naturally turned to look at him for confirmation.Immediately her cheek met the firm resistance of his open palm. Not a slap but a gentle correction, forcing her to only look straight ahead. She began to fear that he meant for her not to see him at all.She wanted to speak up now, to protest. She'd drawn so. Another gasp echoed through the room. ‘Sous Chef? Is this the type of cooking you teach your juniors? Where the hell did you learn your culinary skills from?’ he continued. Sage flashed him an insulted look but continued with her work. He came beside her and placed his hand forcefully on her wrists to stop her from cooking. ‘Answer me!’ he shouted. ‘Palma, Chef,’ she replied. ‘Oh?’ he said, sounding surprised. An Italian trained chef? ‘Then why have you not been teaching your juniors well?’. More

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