#Chapter 46: A Dangerous Game
Karl

“What do you want?”

Adam’s voice is apprehensive, and for good reason. It’s not everyday that I set food inside his

restaurant, and it’s certainly not everyday that I show up telling him that I have a proposition for him.

But I’ve been plotting this for a long time.

Abby clearly doesn’t realize that Adam doesn’t care about her as much as he should. Or maybe she

does, but she doesn’t seem ready to leave him for some strange reason. She deserves better—she

deserves me. And maybe she just needs a little push to get the gears in motion. I swear, once she’s

free from Adam, she’ll realize just how much of a mess their ‘relationship’ is. And I know exactly what

it’ll take to convince him to leave.

The ingredients.

I’ve been holding onto them for a while now, waiting for the perfect time. And after what happened the

other night, when Adam stood his own fiancee up for a dinner date, I think it’s finally time.

“Let’s talk in private,” I say, smirking slightly. “You free later?”

Adam looks around with a puzzled look on his face. “Why? Why can’t we talk here, now?”

I shake my head. “Trust me, Adam; I’m not planning on doing anything shady if that’s what you’re

worried about. I just have something I want to show you.”

“Look, man, whatever it is, I’m not interested,” he says. “I’ve got a restaurant to run.” I watch as he

tosses a dishcloth over his shoulder and heads for the kitchen. Sliding down from my barstool, I follow

him. When my hand makes contact with the swinging kitchen door, stopping it from closing in my face,

he whirls around and gives me another puzzled look.

“But this is about your restaurant,” I say, stepping into the bustling kitchen. “I swear. You won’t want to

pass this up.”

With a sigh, Adam looks around warily and finally shrugs. “Alright. Meet me outside later, I guess. I’ve

got a lunch rush to deal with. ‘Kay?”

“‘Kay.”

promised, I’m waiting

ponder what I’ll say to Abby once

sure to do after

know that he won’t

lips as I imagine Abby leaning on me, using me as a

of time, of course, but eventually she’ll realize that I have changed—and the

history from there.

interrupted when the door to the restaurant

his hair

nearby bin.

call out, stepping into the

momentarily. I can see him stiffly wipe his hands on his apron

nervous tick of his, before he turns to face

Karl,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. “What did you have to show

rather than tell,” I say, a slight smile playing

carton and drop it into the inner pocket of my jacket.

lead him to

punctuated by the distant h onking of cars and the

night wanderers.

on my key fob, and the trunk slowly pops open,

contents inside.

are bins filled with the crème de la crème of ingredients. Golden saffron threads,

into the night air, freshly picked white truffles, caviar, and even a jar of edible

and that’s

the chef in him taking over as he reaches out to touch a bin,

over the precious items.

his voice filled with awe. “Some of these

back hundreds, even thousands!”

a triumphant smile. “Connections. People

Adam says with

glass jar filled with rare mushrooms.

he asks, turning it

the car.

chuckles again and gingerly places the jar back in

an apprehensive look on

this?”

before giving him my practiced

snap to mine,

what comes next. “I want you to

a mask of disbelief. “You’ve got

would I?”

continue, “I’ve been observing, Adam. The way you interact

chef. It’s clear to me you

not even swing her way, if you

envelops us, the weight of my words sinking in. Adam

headlights. “What are you

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