“Chef Antonio Contiello’s deceitfully charming smile faltered and his dark-green eyes narrowed in warning. She didn’t care if he was angry with her. ‘And by ass I mean that over-bloated thing you call a head!’ Dark-brown hair would have touched Contiello’s chin, had it not been smoothed back into a short oily ponytail. Unlike the others in their white traditional hats, her boss didn’t wear anything over his head – unless it was for a publicity photo shoot. Zoe often mused that he was so arrogant he probably thought a piece of his hair in someone’s meal would only enhance the flavor. Zoe sucked in a deep breath, barely aware of the audience their argument created in the back kitchen of the upscale Italian restaurant, Sedurre. The room gleamed, from the silver countertops to the brand new appliances and the stainless steel pots and pans. They were cluttered together to make the most of the tight space. The metal shone because it had been freshly polished. She’d spent an hour and a half c...leaning before starting her prep duties.MoreLessShow More Show Less
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