Page 100 of Possession

“You don’t take criticism well, do you?” he asks, a dimple appearing as his smirk deepens.

I resist the urge to slap him. “I’ll tell the manager to comp your check.”

Turning on my heel, I make a beeline for the kitchen, my heart pounding. Criticism has always been my weak spot, and his smug delivery hits a nerve. But as I walk away, Hunter steps into my path.

“Lena,” he says, gesturing toward the table. “I see you’ve met Oliver.”

I whip around, my eyes narrowing. “What do you mean,met Oliver? How do you know these jerks?”

“Hey,” the second guy protests, raising his hands. “I’m innocent. He’s the jerk.”

“This is Oliver,” Hunter says, his tone patient. “The guy I was telling you about.”

My stomach drops. “You’reOliver?”

Oliver stands, and my brain short-circuits. He’s tall—ridiculously tall—and his tailored jacket only emphasizes his lean, muscular frame. He looks like he stepped out of a high-end fashion ad, rugged and polished all at once.

“I am,” he says, his voice dropping an octave.

Focus, Lena.

He’s a dick.

“You insult my food and think you’re going to help me run my kitchen?” I snap.

“It wasn’t an insult,” he says, his cool arrogance unshaken. “Just an observation.”

I turn to Hunter, lowering my voice. “You said it’s up to me.”

“It is,” he says gently. “But you’ve known Oliver for five minutes. You can’t make a decision yet. Let him come back tomorrow, show him around the kitchen, and then decide.”

“This isnotwhat I agreed to,” I hiss.

“He’s got the experience we talked about.”

“How? He can’t be that much older than me.”

Oliver steps closer, his presence commanding. “I have a baby face,” he says with a faint smirk. “But I know my way around a kitchen. It’s the family business.”

“Then why don’t you go back and work for your family?”

“Lena,” Hunter warns, his tone sharp.

Oliver raises his hands in mock surrender. “Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m a straight shooter, and sometimes that comes off as… overbearing.”

“You think?”

“Let’s try again tomorrow,” he says, extending a hand. “If you still hate me, I’ll move on. No hard feelings.”

Before I can respond, my smartwatch vibrates with a call from Christian. It’s the perfect escape.

“I’ll give you an hour tomorrow,” I say, ignoring Hunter’s disapproving look as I answer the call.

“Hey, Christian…”

Chapter 34

Did You Say Usurp?

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