Page 13 of Sun's Roar

“Locals aren’t who I’m after. I want to attract the right clientele,” Victor interrupted, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Continue.”

As they moved through the dining room, Helena found her thoughts straying back to Sol. The way his green eyes had seemed to see straight into her soul. There had been something magnetic about him, something that made her feel...seen.

“This is our bar manager, Tyanna,” Helena said as they approached the polished wooden bar.

Tyanna looked up, her dark eyes narrowing as she took in Victor. “Pleasure,” she said, the word dripping with sarcasm as she continued wiping down glasses.

Helena shot her a warning look that Tyanna pointedly ignored.

“The bar needs to be completely redone,” Victor announced without even greeting Tyanna. “Something sleeker and more upscale.”

“Our regular customers like this bar just fine,” Tyanna replied, setting a glass down with a little more force than necessary.

Victor’s mouth tightened. “Regular customers don’t spend enough.”

Helena quickly steered him toward the host stand where Paige was organizing menus. Relief flooded her when Paige stepped forward with a wide smile.

“Mr. Sulick! What an honor to meet you,” Paige gushed, practically bouncing on her toes. “I’ve read about your businessventures. Your takeover of the Meridian Hotel chain was absolutely brilliant.”

Victor seemed to thaw slightly under the praise. “An observant one. You are?”

“Paige Donovan, restaurant manager. If you have any ideas you’d like implemented, I’d be happy to?—“

“I have many ideas,” Victor cut in. “Perhaps you’ll be useful after all.”

Helena’s fingers closed around Sol’s card in her pocket. If only he had been their new owner instead of this cold, calculating man. Sol, with his warm smile and strong presence. She wondered what it would be like to see him again. The thought sent heat through her that reminded her oddly of the birthday candle incident.

People like Victor were why Helena had always kept her head down and focused on cooking. But Sol... Sol felt different. Maybe she would call him later and take him up on his dinner offer.

“Now I’d really love to see the kitchen,” Victor said, suddenly leaning closer to Helena. “I hear it’s your domain.”

Helena took an instinctive step back. Victor’s eyes had suddenly changed, the coldness replaced with something warm but calculated—like a predator mimicking friendliness.

“Of course,” Helena replied, gesturing toward the swinging doors. “This way.”

As they walked, Victor shifted from formal to familiar, his hand briefly brushing her lower back as they entered the kitchen. Helena felt her skin prickle with discomfort.

“You know, a talented chef is the heart of any restaurant,” Victor said, his voice lowered to what he likely thought was an attractive timber. “And I’ve heard extraordinary things about your... abilities.”

Helena frowned. Something in his phrasing seemed odd, almost like he meant more than her cooking skills. She led himthrough the prep area, deliberately taking a path that kept them away from where Marco was stillenthusiasticallychopping vegetables.

“We focus on seasonal ingredients,” Helena explained, feeling heat rise to her face as Victor stood too close, examining a tray of prepared herbs. “Our new menu launches next week with butternut squash risotto and?—“

“I’m more interested in how you create such magic,” Victor interrupted, his eyes not on the food but fixed on her face. He reached out and brushed a strand of her hair from her face. “Has anyone told you that your hair is the exact color of flames?”

Helena stepped sideways, disguising her retreat as reaching for a clipboard. “Our specials rotate daily.”

“And what’s special about today?” Victor asked, his voice dripping with double meaning.

Across the kitchen, Marco looked up, his knife pausing mid-chop as he observed the interaction. Helena caught his eye and subtly shook her head, willing him to stay put. Marco’s protective instincts toward her were legendary in the kitchen, and the last thing she needed was a confrontation between her sous chef and their new boss.

A strange warmth began pooling in Helena’s stomach, spreading outward through her limbs. It wasn’t desire—it felt more like irritation made physical, a simmering heat that seemed to pulse with each condescending smile Victor gave her.

“Is it hot in here?” Helena asked, fanning herself while maintaining a professional distance.

Victor smiled. “Only when you’re in it.”

The line was so cheesy that Helena almost laughed. What was happening today? First, Sol with his intense stares and genuine interest, now this new owner with his transparent attempts at flirtation while in her kitchen. Thirty years ofrelative invisibility to the opposite sex, and suddenly she was attracting attention like moths to a?—

---