Page 36 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

I scowl and rock back in my chair, the old wood creaking ominously under me. “It was just payback for everything he's done to me.”

“Again, I feel like I'm missing something here. Care to fill me in?”

I sigh and give her the quick rundown of all the shit Jameson has put me through since my first day here. She listens intently, nodding along and laughing a few times. “And then, the day of his TV appearance, he showed up in my kitchen afterward. And while I was expecting anger, what I got was a lot more like…”

She shifts forward, clenching her hands on the table, her bright eyes dancing with curiosity. “Like what?”

“Like…flirting.”

Rapping her knuckles on the old wood, she laughs. “Jameson is a hopeless flirt.”

For some reason, that makes bile churn in my stomach and threaten to work its way up. Understatement of the century. And what happened with Jameson the other night was far more than a simple, flirty run-in. That man had me practically melting with one look. And that near kiss left me breathless and dizzy again.

I swear opening a restaurant next to him is not good for my health. “You know him well?”

She shakes her head, sending her red locks flying around her face, and sits back. “I wouldn't say well. But I met him after his appearance on Prime Chef. He was catering an event we were at as the celebrity chef, and he and Grant really hit it off. I know enough to understand that he's a shameless flirt and is probably just as likely to try to fuck you as to stab you in the back.”

I snort and shake my head. “That's reassuring.”

This woman’s analysis is spot-on the vibe I’ve gotten from him since the day I set eyes on him in the pouring rain. He’s a man who knows how hot he is and uses it to get what he wants. He never fails, and he enjoys a challenge much more than having something handed to him.

Am I that challenge? Or is the restaurant?

Sylvie grins at me. “I wasn't trying to be reassuring. I was trying to be realistic.”

I scrub my hands over my face and let the chair drop down onto all fours. “Christ, I can't believe I'm telling all this to a perfect stranger.”

She chuckles again. “Don't worry. I’m like the Fort Knox of secret information, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Something tells me I don't have to worry about her revealing any of this to anyone. Though these circumstances do seem a bit unique.

“Even though your husband is his partner and my business rival? Seems like a bit of a conflict of interest, if you know what I mean.”

She shrugs nonchalantly and leans back in her chair. “I like to support the underdogs. The people who may not get such an easy lot in life and have to fight their way up every rung on the ladder of success. Something tells me that might be you.”

Damn, she's good.

Almost too good. It's a little unnerving how easily she can see me.

Am I that transparent?

I shift uneasily in my seat, suddenly self-conscious about everything—the second-hand tables and chairs, the handmade items decorating the space that I sourced from local donations since I can’t afford pricey décor, my own outfit of a stained T-shirt and ripped jeans.

Sylvie offers me a soft smile. “I think there's room in this area for more than one incredible restaurant. And I will gladly do everything I can to help you make yours successful.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Of course.”

“But…you don't even know me.”

Pushing to her feet, she rests her palms flat on the table and winks at me. “I know enough. Now, let me go scope out the competition for you.”

She throws her purse that probably costs more than the damn range Jameson wanted so badly over her shoulder.

I groan, close my eyes, and pinch the bridge of my nose. “You're going to be impressed.”

“Why do you say that?”

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