CHAPTER 2: THE PREPOSITION
1013 Words
She grabbed a knife and stabbed it right through his throat.
Well, she wished she did.
Who did he think he was to question her cooking?
She immediately brushed that though off her mind. Mia didn’t linger. She disappeared back into the kitchen, shaking off the strange feeling in her chest.
She had spent years perfecting her craft, honing her skills under pressure, and proving herself in kitchens that chewed up and spat out the weak. Yet, despite everything, the encounter with Adrian Lancaster still burned in her mind hours later.
She told herself it didn’t matter.
He was just another arrogant billionaire used to getting what he wanted. She had simply stood her ground—nothing more.
But deep down, she knew something had shifted.
As the night wound down and the kitchen staff cleaned up, Mia stayed behind, scrubbing down her station with unnecessary force. Liam, always observant, smirked as he leaned against the counter.
“You’re still thinking about him,” he teased.
Mia shot him a glare. “I’m thinking about how ridiculous it is that some rich guy thinks he knows passion better than a chef.”
Liam chuckled. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. He didn’t send the dish back, did he?”
Mia sighed, tossing the rag aside. “No. But that’s not the point.”
She didn’t know what the point was, exactly.
All she knew was that Adrian Lancaster’s eyes had lingered on her for just a second too long. And that unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
The following afternoon, Mia arrived at La Lumière earlier than usual. She wasn’t scheduled for another hour, but she needed the quiet before the storm of dinner service.
As she tied on her apron, the restaurant’s maître d’, Pierre, rushed toward her, looking flustered.
“Mia,” he whispered urgently. “You have a visitor.”
Mia frowned. “What? Who?”
Pierre’s face was pale. “Adrian Lancaster.”
Her stomach dropped.
“What?”
“He’s at the bar. He asked for you specifically.”
Mia barely had time to process before Pierre was ushering her toward the front.
There he was.
Adrian Lancaster sat at the sleek marble bar, exuding effortless power. His dark gray suit fit him like it had been tailored for this very moment, and when he turned his head, his stormy gaze locked onto hers.
Mia’s pulse kicked up, but she forced herself to stay composed. She walked toward him, determined not to let him intimidate her.
She crossed her arms. “Did my dish haunt you so much that you had to come back?”
Adrian’s lips quirked slightly—almost a smile, but not quite. “Something like that.”
Mia narrowed her eyes. “I don’t have time for games, Mr. Lancaster.”
His gaze sharpened. “Then I’ll get to the point.”
He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the bar. “I have a proposition for you, Mia Carter.”
Her brows lifted. “A proposition?”
“I want you to be my personal chef.”
Mia blinked. Of all the things she had expected, this wasn’t one of them.
She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t make offers I’m not serious about,” Adrian said smoothly. “I need someone who understands food. Not just how to cook, but how to create. And last night, you proved that you do.”
Mia stared at him. “You think you can just walk in here, wave some money around, and I’ll drop everything to cook for you?”
Adrian held her gaze, unflinching. “I think you know this is more than just about money.”
Her breath hitched. He said it so casually, yet there was something beneath his words, something that made heat creep up her neck.
She shook her head. “Even if I were interested—which I’m not—I have a job here.”
“I’ll double whatever you’re being paid.”
Mia clenched her fists. “It’s not about the money.”
Adrian studied her for a long moment. Then, to her surprise, he nodded.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t want a chef who’s only in it for the money.”
Mia frowned, thrown off by his response.
Adrian rose from his seat, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “I’ll give you time to think about it. But don’t take too long.”
Mia bristled. “Or what?”
His lips curved slightly, and for the first time, there was something dangerously close to amusement in his gaze.
“Or I might start thinking you’re afraid.”
And with that, he walked out of the restaurant, leaving Mia standing there, heart pounding, mind spinning.
Mia spent the rest of the day trying to shake off the conversation, but Adrian’s words lingered.
She didn’t trust men like him. Men who thought they could buy whatever—or whoever—they wanted.
But what irritated her the most was that he had seen something in her. Something deeper than just a cook working in someone else’s kitchen.
And damn him, but he wasn’t wrong.
Later that night, as she locked up, she found herself standing outside the restaurant, staring at the city lights.
Could she really just walk away from La Lumière?
She had spent years proving herself here, fighting for recognition.
But would she ever truly be recognized under someone else’s name?
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
“One week. Think about it.” – A.L.
Mia exhaled sharply, staring at the screen.
Damn him.
She was already thinking about it.
She walked out of the building and just as she turned to leave, she saw him. Standing right before her was Adrian Lancaster.
"What are you doing —"
Before she could even finish her sentence, he lowered his head and kissed her on the lip.
Mia stood frozen at that moment.
- Writer
