Chapter 2

• SEAN
• I need a good sleep.
• I've spent the last forty-eight hours managing both my legal and illegal businesses while also dealing with death threats. Maybe a sleep isn't what I need. Maybe I need a vacation.
• “Boss, you were on vacation a month ago,” Dwight, my right hand man and the second in command in charge of my other men says, making me realize I spoke out loud.
• “I still need a vacation,” I tell him as we stroll away from my private airstrip toward the car waiting to take us home.
• “I'm sure you can afford to go on one now. If you really need it,” Dwight says as my black BMW pulls up in front of us.
• The door unlocks and Dex steps out with a teasing smile. He passes me an acknowledging grin first. Dex is also one of my men belonging in my inner circle.
• “Welcone boss,” he says and I nod, moving to get into the vehicle.
• Once seated, I release the button on my suit jacket and lean back in my seat. Sage, another of my men and the best driver I know, locks eyes with me from the driver's seat. A teasing smile is playing on his face.
• “What is it, asshole?” I ask him, running a hand through my hair. I need a shower, a very good and long one.
• “Nothing. You just look so tired,” he says and I nod. Dwight and Dex get into the car with the former sitting beside me in the backseat. “I told you to take us with you.”
• I roll my eyes at Sage accusing tone. He always loves to accompany me anywhere I'm going. I understand the need for extra security especially not with the hundreds of men gunning for my head these days.
• “I needed you back here to protect Reina and my business,” I remind him.
• “Right,” he agrees.
• Dex shakes his head at us as he turns back to glance at me. “You have the same variation of discussion everytime you go out of the city for business,” he says and it’s the truth. “Anyway, how was New York?”
• I let Dwight answer him. “A few mishaps. The buyers turned out to be a sham. There's a whole story behind it but I'm still looking into it.”
• Dex and Sage frown as they glance back to check on us.
• “We didn't get any updates from you, boss,” Dex says, his tone low with annoyance.
• I scoff. “I was good. Dwight handled what was necessary. Anyway, how was Chicago while we were away?”
• Even though I already know what they were going to say since they'd kept me updated while I was away, I ask anyway. Midway into their explanation, my phone begins to ring. I groan and reach into my pocket for it. It's Reina, my assistant calling.
• “Yes, Reina?” I ask, pressing the phone to my ear.
• “Hello, boss. How was your flight? I believe it was good.”
• I rub my eyes. “Why are you calling Reina?”
• “Yes, I will cut to the chase. The screening process took place for the new chefs. They are currently waiting for your arrival so we can begin the interview.”
• Oh, shit!
• I completely forgot about that.
• With two of my chefs quitting on me in the last month, and my personal chef dying, it's been difficult for my restaurant to maintenance a five star service rating. I can't trust anybody to conduct the interview especially with my enemies plotting to get me at every chance they get. This is why I plan to vett every employee myself.
• But I completely forgot about it.
• “Boss, are you there?” Reina's voice comes up again.
• “Yes.” I glance at my wristwatch. It's still the early hours of the morning so maybe I can wrap things up quickly and head home to sleep. “How many are they?”
• “Seven screened chefs for you to interview, sir.”
• I nod. That certainly makes my life easier. “I will be there soon,” I tell her and end the call.
• “Problem boss?” Sage asks from the driver's seat.
• “Chef interview. Take me to the restaurant,” I order.
• “On it, boss!”
• ☆☆☆
• Sage manages to pull up in front of the restaurant about thirty minutes later. I yawn as I put on my shades. Dwight gives instructions to Sage and Dex on what to do before he comes down to open the door for me to step down.
• I step out of the car and start walking toward the entrance. There's a lady standing out there, but I'm not looking at her. It's not unusual to have women or the press stand there, trying to get something from me. Those bastards.
• I leave Dwight to handle the woman as I stop in front of the door, ready to grab the handle and go into the place when I hear it.
• “Sean Spiridon!”
• I freeze at the sound of my name. I haven't had many people call me by my full name in a long time. It's either they call me Boss, or Mr. Spiridon. I'm so annoyed by the sound of it that I feel the irritation crawling up my veins.
• “Dwight will handle it,” I tell myself as u grab the door handle again.
• “Sean Spiridon. I really need to see you, sir. Your men won't let me through.”
• That annoying voice calls again. I grit my teeth, stupid reporters and not knowing when to quit. Turning around, I take off my sunshades and finally see the woman causing a scene outside of my restaurant.
• The first thing I notice about her is her blue dyed hair. They fall in waves around her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. When I close the gap between us, trying to maintain my cool, I notice the whiteness of her painted nails.
• She looks relieved to see me, her face breaking into a smile. “I'm—”
• “Let's not waste each other's time. I'm not looking to do an interview and I don't have anything to say to the media. Find a new target,” I tell her with a frown.
• She blinks. “I beg your finest pardon?”
• Is she trying to play dumb or what? “I don't have time for this. Anything other than what I've said, speak to my assistant about it.”
• I finish and I'm about to turn around when her hand shoot out and grab mine. I still, my blood freezing in my bones at the contact. When I turn my gaze on her, she realizes her mistake and quickly removes her hand.
• “Sorry, sir. But I think you're mistaken. I'm not a reporter.”
• “You're not?” I ask, eyeing her face. I can feel Dwight watching her carefully, waiting for any wrong move from her.
• “No, sir. I'm a chef.” She clears her throat and smiles sadly. “I just learned about the job spot at your restaurant and I'm hoping I will be given a chance to interview.”
• As she speaks, my eyes rake over her. Not only does she not look like a chef in her black pants and white shirt, she doesn't look like a reporter either.
• “If you wanted a chance to interview, you should have submitted your credentials earlier,” I tell her, ready to leave.
• “Yes, sir. I'm aware of that. But as I said, I only just learned about the job.” She doesn't seem to be given up. “That's why I decided to meet up with you.”
• By now, I'm full-on irritated. “There is nothing I can do to help,” I deadpan, ready to walk away.
• “I'm the best chef you will ever get, I promise. I can make anything. Five years of working experience gave me that. But I've had longer than even five years.” She is babbling now and I don't know why I'm listening to her.
• The door opens and Reina steps out, clutching her pink tab. She walks over to stand beside me and when she sees who I'm talking to, her eyes widen with recognition.
• I turn to her, “Do you know her?”
• Reina nods. “Yes, boss. She was here earlier, asking for a chance. I thought she left.”
• I sigh in good grief, rubbing my head. The lady is smiling, and ut annoys me. I should have just let Dwight handle her.
• “I took a look at her credentials, boss. It's quite impressive. She would have aced the screening process,” Reina tells me.
• I look at her in surprise. The fact that she is vouching for a woman she hardly knows is taking me by surprise.
• “Please, Mr. Spiridon. Give me a chance to leave a lasting impression,” the woman pleads.
• Ready to be done with the whole thing so I can put it behind me, I narrow my eyes at her. “You mess up at the interview and you're gone. Got it?”
• She opens her mouth to respond but I don't wait to hear any of what she has to say before I go into my restaurant like I should have done from the very beginning.