Chapter 2 - The Hidden SabotageTessa Monroe didn’t even look at the malfunctioning dessert case. She rolled her eyes, her gaze flicking dismissively toward Owen. “It’s fine, Mr. Bishop. It just needs a reset. I don’t need an unemployed logistics manager telling me how to run a kitchen.”
The insult hung in the air like smoke. Beatrice Kessler, however, didn’t flinch. She watched Tessa with eyes that were suddenly razor-sharp, stripping away the old woman’s confusion.
Owen stood up, his face reddening—not from shame, but from the professional instinct he couldn’t suppress. He walked to the counter, pulled a small pocket multi-tool from his coat, and opened the access panel at the back of the refrigerator.
“Tessa, if that compressor isn’t cycling, the temperature will cross the safety threshold in twenty minutes. You’ll have to toss three thousand dollars of inventory, and if a health inspector walks in, you’re shut down.”
“Mind your own business,” Tessa snapped, walking over and physically shoving the panel shut. “I told you to leave. And that woman needs to go, too.”
Beatrice slowly stood, her spine straightening with an elegance that made the café seem to shrink. “Why are you so eager to hide the health status of this kitchen, Miss Monroe?”
May you like
Tessa laughed, a cold, shrill sound. “Because it’s my kitchen, and you’re just a homeless squatter.”
Beatrice reached into the pocket of her oversized coat and pulled out a sleek, titanium-cased phone. She pressed a single button. Within seconds, the café’s main lobby doors burst open, and two men in sharp, dark suits entered, scanning the room with clinical intensity.
