= Sarah POV =
“So yeah, the entire thing was hell. I don’t want her on the team, but I can’t deny her talent,” Ms. Jun said, begrudgingly. She leaned back against the exercise ball she had been perched on, crossing her arms. “She’s improved so much, I think she might even be better than me—and I hate it.”
For the past hour, I’d been treated to a full-blown vent session about Chris. Apparently, she had strolled into the kitchen mid-briefing, effortlessly matching—and even surpassing—Ms. Jun’s perfectionism with every challenge thrown her way. The final straw had been Chris turning out a dish so fwless that even Ms. Jun had been forced to stop and admire it, much to her own frustration. It wasn’t hard to imagine how bruised her ego must feel.
Leaning back against the wall, I smiled softly. That sounded exactly like Chris: confident, brilliant, and always ready to take charge without a moment’s hesitation.
“Why not put her through the same rigorous training program you use for top chefs?” I suggested brightly. “Chris thrives on challenges, and it would get her out of your hair. Plus, she’s been talking about wanting to be more involved here. It could be a win-win situation.”
For a moment, Ms. Jun just stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, the spark returned to her eyes, her lips curling into a grin.
“Sarah, that’s genius! Chef Madison’s six weeks are almost up, and we’re going to need someone of Chris’s caliber to step in. This could actually work!”
Before I could react, she sprang up from her seat, grabbing my hand and pressing a quick, warm kiss to the back of it. “Thank you, Sarah. You’re so easy to talk to, and you always have the best ideas. I might just convince Heather to promote you to my assistant!”
I ughed, the sudden gesture catching me off guard. “Oh no, I don’t think I could keep up with you. You’re a whirlwind, and you need someone with the same level of energy by your side.”
As she stepped back, her foot caught on a yoga mat lying across the floor. With a startled “Whoops!” she lost her bance, the exercise ball slipping out from under her.
“Ms. Jun!” I gasped, reaching out instinctively as she toppled backward. Before I knew it, we were both on the floor, her arm wrapped securely around my waist while I clung to her shoulders to steady myself.
For a moment, we stayed like that—our breaths mingling, the proximity making my pulse race. “I don’t need someone to keep up with me,” she said softly, her eyes glinting with mischief as her fingers tightened slightly around my waist. “I just need someone to stay close. Someone beautiful. Someone brilliant.”
Her words sent a flutter through my chest. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out every other sound in the room.
“Ms. Jun, I…” My voice faltered as I tried to push back, but my hands only ended up bracing against her shoulders.
She shifted slightly, sitting up so that I was kneeling between her legs, her frame towering over me. Her free hand traced a light, deliberate path up my spine, her gaze locked onto mine. I felt overwhelmed, trapped in the warmth of her presence.
“Just give me a chance,” she murmured, her voice low and alluring. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”
Her face was barely an inch from mine now, her breath warm against my lips. My thoughts scrambled, caught between the pull of her words and the intensity in her gaze. Her hand slid higher, fingers grazing my neck as she leaned in, her lips brushing dangerously close to mine.
For a moment, I froze. A part of me screamed to pull away, to stop this before it went further. But another part—one that sent heat curling in my chest—whispered to stay.
I didn’t move as she closed the distance, her lips hovering just over mine, waiting, inviting. My eyelids fluttered, and I felt myself leaning forward, caught in the pull of something I didn’t entirely understand.
