Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of "Le Chat Noir," mirroring the storm brewing inside Chef Antoine. The critic, Eleanor Vance, had eviscerated his signature duck confit. "Greasy," she'd written. "Lacking finesse." Antoine slammed the review onto the stainless steel counter, the metal echoing his frustration.

He spent the next two weeks perfecting the dish, each perfectly rendered duck leg a defiant act. He knew the critic frequented a particular patisserie down the street. So, he made a new dessert, a chocolate truffle so rich it would make her forget her own name. He sent it over with a shy busboy and a note: "compliments of the chef."

The following week, Vance's column featured a glowing review of the patisserie, but no mention of his gift. A slow, cruel smile twisted his lips. He'd find a way to make her taste regret.