Chapter 45

Chapter 45

BLAIRE

The next day, I wake up early to prepare for the day ahead. The

sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the elegant

suite. As I stand by the window, sipping on a cup of coffee, the city

below begins to stir with the rhythm of a new day.

Isabelle’s words from the previous night echo in my mind: “Tomorrow is

a big day.” Determined and energized, I get ready, choosing an outfit

that strikes a balance between professionalism and confidence.

As I make my way to the hotel lobby, Isabelle appears, her signature

enthusiasm undiminished. “Good morning, Blaire! Ready for the big

day?"

“Absolutely,” I reply, returning her smile. “What's first on our to-do list?"

“Well, head over to the kitchen. Let's see if you have everything you

need for the cake samples that you're going to bake today, Isabelle

answers, leading the way with an air of excitement.

In the hotel's spa cious kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee

mingles with the hum of culinary activity. Isabelle gestures toward a

well-stocked counter. “Here are the ingredients we've prepared for you.

Take your time, Blaire. We're eager to taste your

creations.”

As I inspect the array of ingredients, a wave of inspiration washes over

me. The kitchen, though unfamiliar, becomes a canvas for my creativity.

I set to work, measuring, mixing, and infusing each element with a

touch of artistry.

Isabelle watches with keen interest. “Not to put pressure on you, but

the boss is going to visit the hotel later this afternoon. He requested to

present all your output in his office. later. Isabelle interjects as I finish

with my second dessert.

The news adds a layer of anticipation to the already charged

atmosphere of the kitchen. I nod, acknowledging the challenge ahead.

“I appreciate the heads-up, Isabelle. I'll make sure everything is ready

for the presentation.”

As the clock ticks, I meticulously arrange the desserts on a sleek tray,

ensuring each creation is a testament to both skill and artistry. Isabelle

offers a reassuring smile. “You've got this, Blaire. The team is

impressed, and I'm sure the boss will be too.”

Though Isabelle has been nothing but supportive and encouraging,

there's still something lingering inside me that I can’t name. Despite the

outward appearance of confidence, a subtle unease tugs at my

thoughts. It's as if an ominous shadow is cast over the impending

presentation.

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Chapter 45

The journey to the boss's office feels both swift and prolonged. With

each step, the tray in my hands carries not only desserts but also the

weight of anticipation and the fear of an unknown outcome. Isabelle

senses my unease, offering a gentle squeeze on my shoulder.

“Relax, Blaire. You're about to impress the boss. Trust in your talent,”

she whispers, her words attempting to quell the rising nerves.

Upon entering the boss's office, my heart started racing as my eyes

caught a glint of a familiar figure standing beside the glass wall. Despite

not seeing his face, his silhouette is too familiar for me to ignore. It's

him. The same man that I was praying I wouldn't have to meet again.

Sebastian is my ex-husband.

“Blaire, I would like to introduce to you the owner and president of

Solara Hotel and Casino, Mr. Sebastian Foster,” Isabelle introduces us.

Despite my shock upon learning that Despite my shock upon learning

that Sebastian is the one who owns this hotel, I manage to act as if

we're strangers. “Nice to finally meet you, Mister Foster,” I say,

maintaining a polite facade.

Isabelle then turns to Sebastian once again. “Mr. Foster, Blaire is here

to present to you her sample desserts for your approval. We need your

input before we proceed with the preparation for the grand opening,

Isabelle says, unaware of the history that lingers. between Sebastian

and me.

Sebastian nods, his expression remaining composed. “Of course,

Isabelle. I'm looking forward to seeing what Blaire has prepared.”

As I present the desserts, I focus on the task at hand, doing my best to

block out the memories that threaten to resurface. Sebastian's

expression remains stoic. I couldn't read what was going on inside his

head. Did he plan this all along? Did he deliberately ask Isabelle to

approach me? If yes, what could be his reason for doing so? The

unanswered questions linger in the air, adding another layer of

complexity to the already charged atmosphere.

I was in the middle of my deep thought when Sebastian's deep and

baritone voice pulled me out of my reverie. “Presentation-wise, it's nice.

But taste doesn't impress me,” Sebastian said.

Even Isabelle was surprised upon hearing his comment. I'm not sure

whether he really didn't like my desserts or if he's just deliberately

doing that to sabotage me. If it was the latter, does that mean our being

here together was purely a coincidence?

“B-Boss, why don't we take a break and have some tea to cleanse your

palate? I'm sure you haven't tasted it properly,” Isabelle suggests.

“That won't be necessary. I want her to do everything again from

scratch. But this time,

Chapter 4

I don’t want any errors. I'm not going to serve trash to my clients,” he

says coldly.

His words cut through the air like a sharp blade, and I'm left

speechless, grappling with the unexpected turn of events. Is this a

genuine critique of my desserts, or is there a deeper motive behind his

harsh demand!

As Isabelle tries to diffuse the tension, suggesting ways to address his

concerns, Sebastian remains firm in his decision. The atmosphere in

the lobby grows heavier, and I feel the weight of his scrutiny,

magnifying the pressure of the situation.

With a sense of determination, I nodded in response. Til redo the

desserts, Mr. Foster. I want to ensure they meet your standards.

He simply nods, his expression unyielding. The challenge is clear. I

don't care whether he’s doing this to punish me or if he just has

different standards. But I won't back down without a fight. I know I can

do it, despite the circumstances.

With a sense of determination. I nodded in response. “I'll redo the

desserts, Mr. Foster. I want to ensure they meet your standards.”

He simply nods, his expression unyielding. The challenge is clear. I

don't care whether he’s doing this to punish me or if he just has

different standards. But I won't back down without a fight. I know I can

do it, despite the circumstances.

Returning to the kitchen, the weight of the task ahead fuels my focus.

Each measured ingredient and every precise step becomes a

testament to resilience and the unwavering passion for my craft. The

city outside, a constant witness to the ebb and flow of challenges,

seems to echo the rhythm of my determined efforts.

As the aroma of baking desserts fills the kitchen once more, I reflect on

the unexpected twist of fate that brought Sebastian back into my life.

Whether it's a test of culinary prowess or a veiled attempt at revisiting

our shared history, I am determined to rise above the challenge.

The desserts take shape, each one an embodiment of skill, creativity,

and an unwavering commitment to excellence. In the quietude of the

kitchen, I find solace in the precision of my movements and the artistry

that transforms simple ingredients into culinary masterpieces.

As I delve into the meticulous process of recreating the desserts,

Isabelle approaches, concern etched on her face. “Blaire, are you

alright? This is quite unusual, even for Mr. Foster.”

I take a deep breath, setting aside the swirling emotions. “I'll be fine,

Isabelle. Let's focus on perfecting these desserts. I won't let this

setback define our success.”

Isabelle offers a supportive smile. “You're resilient, Blaire. I believe in

your abilities. Just

Chapter 45

let me know if you need anything”

As the desserts are presented once again to Sebastian, a subtle shift in

the air suggests a tension that transcends the realm of pastry. His gaze

remains critical, but this time, I meet it with unwavering confidence. The

past may cast shadows, but in this moment, I choose to let the

brilliance of my desserts speak louder than the unspoken complexities

that linger between us.

As I present the refined creations to Mr. Foster, the tension in the room

is palpable. His scrutinizing gaze lingers on each detail, and for a

moment, the weight of judgment hangs in the air.

He tasted cach one of the desserts before sitting back in his swivel

chair. “Do it again.” he said as he crossed his fingers, leaning against

his table.

“S-Sir Isabelle asked in surprise upon hearing that. “B-But—

Isabelle, could you please give Mr. Foster and me a minute?” I asked

Isabelle..

Though confusion was etched all over her face, she didn't bother

asking. Instead, she left the room without questions asked. Once we're

alone, I finally let out the anger that Ive been holding back since

we met.

What fck is wrong will you? I yelled at him.

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