Page 145 of Modern Romance December 2025 5-8

‘Have you seen this list, Amy… Chef? We might as well serve this woman fresh air!’

Amy eyed the tablet Jamie was scrolling through. ‘Someone with a lot of allergies?’ she asked, wondering at the younger woman’s annoyed tone. It wasn’t as if they weren’t all accustomed to accommodating guests’ dietary requirements aside of the usual vegetarian and vegan alternatives.

Sensing the unspoken query in Amy’s voice, the young chef pushed the tablet along the counter towards her. ‘Allergies,’ she said as Amy began to read, ‘I can do. Food intolerances I can do. Vegan options, well, I’m a vegan. The calorie count that we cannot exceed on each course is also fair enough. But have you seen the dictate on the food groups we’re not allowed to combine on a plate? These are not just dietary requirements; it’s a straitjacket for any chef! Creativity will go out the—’

While Amy sympathised with the other woman, she adopted a soothing tone. ‘Yeah, it doesn’t leave much leeway but—’

‘But you’d better get used to it, Jamie,’ the chef who had been standing at the nearest work station interrupted. ‘Because that lady is going to be our new boss.’

‘With luck, she won’t be spending too much time here,’ the younger woman said, displaying crossed fingers before returning to the tablet. ‘Do you think they’ll be making the announcement tonight?’ she wondered gloomily. ‘I suppose we could do—’

Her suggestions were a static buzz in Amy’s head.

‘Our new boss?’ she said, aiming for casual and producing strangled.

‘You haven’t heard?’ someone on the other side of the kitchen said in a surprised tone.

‘It seems he’s serious this time. Apparently, they’ve been secretly engaged for months. Her name’s Sophia.’

‘No ring yet, though,’ Jamie intervened, typing up notes with a frown. ‘And that paper—or rather, scandal sheet—is the rag that wrote that article on the Queen, the old Queen, still being alive. That squid recipe of yours, Amy, do you use…?’

Amy automatically listed the ingredients. ‘So Leo is engaged?’

Someone else laughed. ‘Do you haveanyfootprint on social media?’

‘I follow some people.’

‘All food-related, right…but there’s a whole other world out there.’

‘Of bile, gossip and innuendo. Leave her alone.’

Amy didn’t have a clue how she got through the rest of the morning. On autopilot, she delegated the task of coordinating the staff who had been brought in for the gala, then waited for the couple of hours that were pencilled in for her time off—supposedly for hermeetingwith Leo.

Her knife skills had raised a few eyebrows as she’d sliced and diced as though her life depended on it. She didn’t have a clue who this woman was, but she already hated her. But not as much as she hated Leo and herself, and not necessarily in that order.

He had not promised her anything, but she hadhoped—she had really hoped—that this had meant more than just sex for him. And all the while he had been planning to make a life with another woman.

She walked through the olive groves that bordered the beach, glad of the shade. When the stony ground gave way to sand, she removed her sandals.

She was early for their assignation, but so was Leo. He was already standing facing the sea when she reached the secluded cove. A voice in her head suggested now was the moment to pause, to get her thoughts in order, but her mortified anger was firmly in charge.

His dark hair was ruffled, his black tee-shirt was tucked into a pair of faded denim cut-offs. Barefoot, Leo was standing on the water’s edge, staring out to sea, shading his eyes—perhaps to see the boat with a red sail bobbing on the horizon.

As if sensing her presence, he turned when she was still fifty feet away and watched her approach.

She paused a few feet away from him, the light breeze whipping her hair into a tangled skein across her face. Even knowing what she now knew—basically, that despite all his simple honesty he was a lying bastard—she had unpinned her hair.

She had worn it loose because he liked it that way and she felt angry with herself for wanting to please him, wanting to hear him say she was beautiful just one last time.

She didn’t pause for preliminaries or even notice the smile of welcome on his face morph into an expression of caution.

‘Is it true that you are engaged to this Sophia woman?’

For once she had surprised him, but she was too angry to celebrate this triumph over his damned insouciance.

She watched the shock on his face meld into anger. ‘How is that relevant?’

Outraged breath hissed through her flared nostrils as she pulled herself up to her full and unimpressive five foot three. ‘You can ask that?’