SINNERS LUST

CHAPTER {3}

MARK

"What did you say?" asks alessio knight  the restaurateur on the other end of my phone who's trying to get me to sell my soul for the next three years. "I can't hear you over all that noise. Where are you?"

"Hold on. Goin' outside." It's amazing and frightening how fast an accent rushes back to a person when they go home I push my way through the crowded sports bar to the front door, disliking how the people keep bumping into me, sloshing their drinks onto my shoes.

It's around 1:30 AM, and we are at our fourth (and last) bar of the night. The air smells like sweat, tequila, and regret. And let's just say that everyone in our party is less than sober, but none less sober than Dia esmerelda alvara

To be honest, I had come into town with the full intention of making a fresh start with her. I planned to bury that hatchet and put the water under the bridge We haven't spoken since high school, which I thought would have been plenty of time to let our old animosity fade.

I was wrong.

When Dia gray eyes locked on me, I saw her hatred burn brighter.

Nothing has faded. It's somehow intensified. And just like that, I was eighteen again, faced with the woman who drives me insane-but mostly from how much I want her. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes narrowed, and I could see she had no intention of burying the hatchet. Nope, she threw down the gauntlet.

This old flame between us is still kindling, and I want to kiss her now more than ever After our high school commencement ceremony, I almost did. I came within an inch of Dia perfect lips before reality crashed over me. I couldn't kiss her on graduation day-not after all our years of dueling.

Not when I knew I would pack up later that night and catch a redeye flight to France, beginning my stint at Le Cordon Bleu. It would have been a cruel form of torture finally tasting Dia's lips and having to leave them behind for good.

It was better to leave things as they were and part as enemies rather than lovers.

What sucks about all of this is that, even after all these years, my situation hasn't really changed that much. Dia still hates me, and I'm still only in town temporarily. After this wedding, I'll head back to Chicago and either sign a contract to be the executive chef in the new gourmet restaurant Jenyev is opening, or I'll go bury myself in the other ritzy kitchen I've already been working in for the past four years.

"Can you hear me now?" I ask alessio, feeling a little too much like the guy from those cell phone commercials.

"Yeah, that's better. Where are you?"

"At a friend's bachelor party in Charleston."

"Ah, that explains why I was hearing so many female voices in the background."

I shove my hand in my pocket to keep it warm. Wintertime in Charleston is nothing compared to winters in Chicago, but it's still chilly enough right now to make me want to hike my shoulders up to my ears to hide my neck from the cold.

"Nah, it's not like that. It's a joint bachelor and bachelorette bar crawl with his fiancée and her bridesmaids."

Alessio makes a sound of disgust. "That sucks. She's already taking the poor guy's freedom away; did she have to take his bachelor party too?"

Yeah, I don't like alessio either.

"Were you calling for something specific, alessio ?" I don't even bat an eye at the fact that he's calling at this time of night, because I've heard that alessio
works hard all day and night. He doesn't need sleep and seems to think the rest of us don't either. Which, in his defense, is mostly true. The restaurant industry is cut-throat. Gotta stay ahead to stay alive.

"Oh, yeah. I was just wanting to let you know I've officially secured the investors for Bask, and they all agreed you are the chef they want running the kitchen. We'll center the whole dining experience around you and your culinary style. So, all that's left is for you to sign those papers, and we can get the ball rolling with marketing."

I pinch my eyes shut because 1) I'm exhausted from bar hopping all night, pretending I'm the kind of guy who does this all the time.
2) I'm not sure I even want this job.
3) Through the window, I can see some idiot in a salmon-colored shirt two sizes too big for him slide up on the bar stool beside Dia and strike up a conversation. She's been ignoring me all night, but she's awfully attentive to Mr. Izak right now.

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VAMPDIVYA