Chapter 4
1273 Words
SAMANTHA…
My legs froze in place as the car pulled up in front of the restaurant which was just a stone throw from my bakery.
The air shifted once I got to the entrance of the restaurant.
All eyes focused on me like they couldn’t recognize this new alien in town.
They just stared.
Full-on pause—mid-conversation, eyes-tracking-my-movement kind of staring.
I couldn’t hear anything else over the sound of my drumming heart and my heels.
They clicked a little too loudly against the polished floor, and with every step I took, I became painfully aware of the red dress hugging my hips, of the smooth glide of the fabric on my thighs, and of my exposed shoulders that suddenly felt like they were carrying a spotlight.
Every pair of eyes pulled me backward into the guilt and insecurity that almost made me run back to my room and get into my pajamas.
I hugged the silver purse closer to myself and tried really hard to ignore every whisper — real or imagined — that dared me to turn around and return home to my family.
“SAM!” I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped me as I heard my sister’s voice.
I turned in her direction and watched her curls bounce as she practically flew toward me, her grin wide and excited.
“Oh my God.” She held me at arm’s length, eyes sweeping from my hair down to the hem of my black heels.
“Look at you. You’re…I mean…wow.” She fanned her face dramatically. “You look indicible, Sam.”
Just like that, oxygen returned to my lungs.
‘I could sacrifice a million cows just to see this side of you everyday” she added.
I tried to shrug, but she looped her arm through mine before I could speak.
“Nope! You’re here now, and you’re coming with me before you talk yourself into hiding in the bathroom.”
She literally dragged me to a table near the back, elevated slightly on a platform and with a perfect view of the dining room.
A “reserved” sign sat proudly at the center.
Of course, Laura had requested a stage.
Two men stood when we arrived, both smiling politely.
“This is Jacob,” she said, gesturing to the guy with a clean beard and warm brown eyes, “and this is Blair—no, not like Gossip Girl Blair, he gets offended when people assume he can afford the lifestyle.”
Blair scoffed and nodded politely at me with a shy smile.
“Anyway, boys, this is my older sister. Help her have a nice time” Laura instructed.
Jacob nodded respectfully. “Nice to meet you, Samantha.”
Blair offered a charming grin. “Laura undersold you, and trust me, she oversells everyone.”
I forced a small smile, still adjusting to the attention prickling along my spine.
Laura was always the one who got all the attention, and she didn’t even mind that I was clearly stealing her spot.
We ordered drinks, and the men added some appetizer recommendations.
Menus were passed around, laughs were exchanged, and for a moment—just a moment—I began to relax.
I seemed to forget about everyone else in the restaurant but the three persons around the table.
When our dishes arrived, the aroma was impossible to ignore.
I leaned closer to my plate and inhaled the delicacy softly.
“This smells amazing,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone.
“The balance… it tastes nothing like the normal country meal, its rich and ooohhh”
Jacob nodded, already reaching for his fork. “Everything here is crafted, the owner is obsessed with detail.”
I smiled, running the tines of my fork through the creamy rice.
“You can tell this kind of dish has been prepared by a chef who cares about texture, flavor, timing, traditio-”
“Most people don’t pay attention to things like that.” A deep, smooth, and quiet voice came from just behind me, and tugged on my spine.
I turned around and there he was.
The man I’d only caught glimpses of earlier in the day.
But looking at him up close, he looked so dashing - Tall, long brown hair that was gathered in a ponytail, and warm focused eyes, assessing without being rude, and when they landed on me, something shifted.
His expression didn’t change dramatically, but the awareness in his gaze… it felt like he saw me.
Not the widow everyone couldn’t peel their gaze off, not the mom who even now wanted to return to her kids’ warm embrace, and not the sister who was dragged out of her house.
Just… me - Sam.
“Good evening,” he said, offering a polite nod to the table before returning his attention to my face—like it naturally belonged there.
“Welcome to Le Flamme. I hope everything is to your liking.”
My lips parted, but no sound came from it.
Laura smirked from across the table, sipping her cocktail like she’d scripted the entire moment.
“The food is amazing,” Jacob replied on my behalf, bless him.
Gabriel’s gaze flickered down briefly to my dress, then back up.
“The red suits you,” he said simply, and I felt at that moment like I was wearing a choker.
“Th-thank you,” I managed, and I felt my cheeks warm up, and it wasn’t from the wine.
He gave an acknowledging smile, before stepping closer to the table, hands sliding into his pockets.
“We’re preparing the last dessert courses for the night, and I like engaging the room a little when we’re at full service.” His eyes stayed on me.
“Would you like to join me in the kitchen for a quick dessert competition?”
I blinked. “A what?”
“It’s simple,” he said. “You and I make the same dish and let the guests judge which plating they prefer. No pressure, you already seem to know quiet a lot about the art of food preparation”
“No pressure?” I laughed nervously. “In front of all these people?”
His lips curved in a smile that melted my insides even with the anxiety that was building up in me.
“Only the fun ones will watch.”
I opened my mouth, ready to decline politely, but Laura’s hands suddenly shot into the air.
“YES! SHE’D LOVE TO!”
Then she clapped.
And before I could protest, Blair and James joined in too, and then the rest of the guests.
A wave of applause rolled through the room.
“Oh God,” I whispered.
Gabriel’s brow lifted, amused. “Seems the room has spoken.”
I stared at him, at the crowd, at Laura who was grinning like a maniac.
My heart thudded against my ribs.
“I… I can’t cook in front of a restaurant full of strangers,” I hissed under my breath.
Gabriel leaned in slightly, close enough that his voice lowered into something meant only for me.
“You won’t be cooking alone.”
That shouldn’t have made my stomach flip.
But it did.
Laura clapped louder. “SAMANTHAAA! Get up!”
I exhaled shakily.
Maybe this was a terrible idea.
Maybe it was exactly what I needed.
“F-fine,” I muttered, already regretting it.
Gabriel offered his hand and I didn’t think twice before I took it.
It was strong and firm, and familiar…
Just like my imaginary stable boy.
- Writer
