Chapter 14
680 Words
Leo’s POV
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I wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing here.
Standing outside Clarke & Co., Sienna’s pride and joy, felt like walking straight into the lion’s den.
Or worse—a trap of my own making.
The golden signage above the sleek glass doors glowed under the city lights, and the faint hum of jazz and clinking cutlery spilled onto the sidewalk. The place was packed. No surprise there—Sienna Clarke wasn’t just a chef; she was a damn empire.
And yet, despite everything, I still hadn’t set foot inside.
Until now.
I adjusted my cap lower, shoved my hands in my pockets, and walked in.
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The Queen’s Domain
The restaurant was warm, elegant, alive. Dark wood, candlelit tables, an open-concept kitchen where chefs moved like artists at work.
And then there was her.
Sienna stood near the kitchen pass, hands on her hips, scolding a line cook about plating. She was wearing her chef’s coat, sleeves rolled up, a streak of flour on her cheek, and that fierce, no-nonsense energy that made her impossible to ignore.
I’d seen her in designer gowns, in silk robes, in my old hoodies—
But here? Here she was in her element.
And damn if it didn’t make something twist in my chest.
I moved toward the bar, keeping my head low.
A familiar voice interrupted.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”
I turned.
Ben.
Sienna’s best friend, business partner, and certified pain in my ass.
He leaned against the counter, smirking like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.
“You’ve got some nerve showing up here, Hollywood.” He slid me a cocktail napkin. “Need me to write your last words on this?”
I sighed, rubbing my temple. “Not here to start s**t, Ben.”
“Then what? You missed her cooking?”
I ignored him and gestured at the menu. “What’s good?”
Ben snorted. “The exit.”
I gave him a look.
He rolled his eyes but finally grabbed a menu. “Fine. You want recommendations? Sienna’s saffron risotto is ridiculous. The truffle gnocchi is a religious experience. And if you don’t try her honey-lavender crème brûlée, you’re a fool.”
I glanced toward the kitchen, where Sienna was now tasting a sauce, brow furrowed in concentration.
Something warm and unwelcome settled in my chest.
I cleared my throat. “I’ll take whatever she made fresh today.”
Ben arched a brow. “Oh? Feeling sentimental?”
I didn’t answer.
Because I wasn’t sure I liked the answer myself.
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Face to Face
The dish arrived.
And just my luck—so did Sienna.
She stopped short when she saw me, eyes narrowing. “You have got to be kidding me.”
I set down my fork. “Nice to see you too, sweetheart.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, visibly restraining herself. “What are you doing here?”
I lifted my glass. “Dinner.”
She crossed her arms. “There are a hundred restaurants in this city. You picked mine?”
I shrugged. “You always said my taste was impeccable.”
Her scowl deepened.
Ben, ever the chaos agent, casually leaned in. “I told him to get the crème brûlée.”
Sienna shot him a look. “Why are you encouraging this?”
Ben grinned. “Because I live for the drama, babe.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t have time for this.”
I leaned forward. “So go. No one’s stopping you.”
Her jaw clenched.
She looked like she wanted to throw my plate in my face.
Instead, she huffed, turned on her heel, and marched back to the kitchen.
Ben whistled low. “Still got a way with women, I see.”
I exhaled, staring after her.
I didn’t come here to pick a fight.
Didn’t come here to stir up old s**t.
I came here because…
Hell.
Maybe I just missed the taste of something real.
- Writer
