Gemotions

The email glowed on the screen, a digital poison. “Lackluster execution,” it proclaimed. Chef Lena exhaled, the breath catching in her throat. She felt a burning sensation in her stomach. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, a steely glint in their depths.

She marched into the walk-in refrigerator, its cold air a contrast to her simmering rage. She had a plan, a whole new menu. She pulled out the most expensive ingredients and ordered a shipment of the most exotic spices she could find. She had never been more determined in her life.

She would prove the critic wrong. She would make him choke on his words.