Gemotions

The review was a disaster. Chef Julian stared at the glowing screen, the harsh assessment of his soufflé a cruel blow. He felt a strange flutter in his chest, a mix of anxiety and… something else. He remembered the critic, her sophisticated air, the way she had surveyed the room before settling at her table. Her gaze was intense, and her eyes, he recalled, were an arresting shade of blue.

He found himself pacing his kitchen, his mind replaying every detail of the evening. He wanted to make a statement, to alter her opinion, and he could barely stand it. He grabbed his coat, heading out to the market to find the best ingredients. He would prove himself. He would.