“Where’s Davis?” asked Dom, stifling a laugh as he saw Sander flinch. The chef turned, shot him a disgusted look, and returned the book he’d been examining back to the shelf. Dom couldn’t help but notice it was one of Sander’s own cookbooks. What an arrogant bastard. A single, arrogant bastard, if Dom was correct in guessing Davis wasn’t here because they’d finally broken up.
“Busy, I’m afraid. I see Kiko stocks all my books,” said Sander. Dom grinned at the change of subject, and at how Sander was desperately grasping at anything that would make it seem like Kiko still felt anything for him.
“Turns out people like supporting local…talents,” said Dom as though Sander barely made the cut.
The chef turned smug. “Or Kiko is lying to you about why he makes sure he has so many copies of my w
