Gemotions

"Can I help you?" The curt tone sliced through Marco's already frayed nerves. It was Chloe, his childhood friend, now the head chef at the upscale restaurant. She didn't recognize him. He’d booked a table under a false name. He was going to make sure she did.

He carefully surveyed the exquisitely plated dish before him, a delicate arrangement of foams and microgreens. He'd meticulously researched the menu, every ingredient, every preparation.

He took a slow bite, chewing deliberately. "This," he said, his voice carefully controlled, "is… not quite what I expected." His gaze locked on hers. He could see the hint of irritation in her eyes. It was a start.