The aroma of garlic and butter hung thick in the air of Le Goût Parfait, rich and comforting, clinging to the walls and drifting between tables. The steady clink of glasses, the low hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the dining room. It was the kind of controlled chaos Lesley usually thrived in.
Today, she barely noticed it.
Her steps were quick, almost urgent, as she pushed past the swinging kitchen doors, her heels striking sharply against the tile.
"Where's Carla?" she asked, concern already creeping into her voice.
David, standing over a steaming pot, glanced up. "She's in Ms. Kate's office, boss."
"Okay. Thanks." Lesley didn't wait for anything else. She was already moving.
She broke into a run down the short hallway and knocked once before opening the office door without waiting for a response.
"Carla?" Lesley said immediately, her eyes scanning the room. "Hey, are you okay? What happened?"
Carla was seated on the couch, pale but conscious, her hands resting protectively over her stomach. Kate stood beside her, arms crossed, her expression serious but relieved.
"She nearly passed out," Kate said. "But she's okay now."
Lesley let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She moved closer. "Do you want me to drive you home? You can take the day off."
"No, I'm fine, boss," Carla said quickly. Then she hesitated, her fingers pressing lightly against her abdomen. "Actually... I think it's because of this."
Lesley froze. "Wait," she said slowly. "Are you...?"
Carla nodded, a shy smile spreading across her face despite the exhaustion in her eyes.
For a second, the room was completely still.
"No way," Kate said, her eyes widening. "Oh my God. I'm so happy for you!"
"Oh wow," Lesley said, the surprise melting into genuine warmth as she stepped forward and pulled Carla into a careful hug. "Congratulations."
"Thank you," Carla said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "Both of you."
"But seriously," Lesley added, pulling back slightly, her tone firm now. "You're taking the day off. I'll cover for you."
"Really?" Carla asked, uncertainty flickering across her face. "You're sure you can handle it?"
Kate raised an eyebrow, amused. "Yeah, boss. You sure about that?"
Lesley smiled, a hint of playfulness breaking through the tension. "Of course. We have to use that culinary diploma once in a while, right?"
Carla laughed weakly. "Okay, but promise you won't cook better than me. Next thing I know, I'm replaced."
"Relax," Lesley said with a grin. "My skills are reserved for myself, my future wife, and emergency situations only. Not everyday cooking."
Carla smiled, visibly reassured. "Thank you. Really, boss."
"Get some rest," Lesley said gently. "Kate will drive you home." She turned to Kate. "And please stop by at the grocery store. Get whatever she needs, especially things good for pregnant women. Use the company card."
Kate nodded immediately.
"No, you really don't have to—" Carla began.
"It's fine," Lesley said, reaching out and squeezing her hand briefly. She met Kate's eyes, and Kate understood without another word.
"You're the best boss," Carla said as Kate helped her up.
"Come on, chef," Kate said lightly, guiding her toward the door.
Once they were gone, the office felt suddenly quiet.
Lesley exhaled, a wave of relief washing over her. For a moment, she had feared something far worse. Her employees were more than staff. They were family. And the thought of losing any of them sat heavily in her chest.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of heat, noise, and movement. Lesley tied on an apron and jumped into the kitchen, working side by side with Chef David and the rest of the staff. Orders came nonstop. Plates flew out. The restaurant buzzed with life until exhaustion finally crept into her bones.
By the time they were nearing closing, she retreated to her office to change into fresh clothes.
Her phone buzzed.
Stacy: Hey, where are you? You're the only one missing here.
A second message followed almost immediately. A photo.
Stacy grinned at the camera beside her wife Zoe, Zoe's hands cradling her round baby bump. Alexandra and Samantha stood close together, newly married and glowing. Athena was there too, having permanently left Italy to take over her family business.
"Oh shoot," Lesley muttered. "Girls' night."
She quickly typed back that she was on her way.
After fixing her hair and straightening her clothes, she grabbed her helmet and headed outside. The evening air was cool against her skin. She swung a leg over her motorbike and settled into the seat.
Something felt wrong.
She frowned, climbed off, and crouched down.
Her stomach dropped.
The tire was completely flat.
"Shit. Not now," she muttered.
As she examined it more closely, she noticed something taped to the tire. A note.
She peeled it off, and beneath it was a clean, deliberate puncture.
Her heart started pounding.
"What the hell?"
Without hesitation, she turned and ran back inside, straight to Kate's office where the CCTV recorder was kept. She burst in without knocking.
"Whoa," Kate said, startled. "Knocking really isn't in your vocabulary today, huh?"
"Run the parking lot footage," Lesley said sharply. "From when I arrived this morning until now."
Kate frowned but started pulling up the footage. "Why? Did something happen?"
"Someone intentionally slashed my tire," Lesley said, anger tightening her voice.
They fast-forwarded through hours of footage until Kate suddenly stopped.
"There," Lesley said. "Back it up."
They watched in silence as the footage played.
A woman appeared on-screen, lingering beside Lesley's bike.
Kate frowned. "Why is she standing there like that...?"
The woman looked around once. Twice.
Then she crouched.
A knife flashed.
Kate gasped. "Oh—no, no, no—"
HISS.
Air burst out of the tire like it was dying.
Kate shot up halfway from her seat. "OH MY GOD. SHE JUST STABBED IT. SHE STABBED YOUR TIRE."
"I can see that," Lesley said faintly, eyes glued to the screen.
The woman didn't stop.
She dragged the blade again—slow, deliberate—like she had time. Like this was a hobby.
Kate clutched her head. "She's enjoying it. Why is she enjoying it?!"
Then—casually—as if nothing unhinged had just happened, the woman pulled out a notepad.
Started writing.
"Is she—" Kate choked. "Is she leaving a note? Oh my God, she's leaving a note. That's worse. That's psychotic."
She tore the page. Taped it neatly onto the ruined tire.
Perfectly aligned.
Kate whispered, horrified, "She centered it."
The woman stepped closer to the camera.
Paused.
Then slowly tilted her head up.
Kate grabbed Lesley's arm. "Why is she looking at the camera? Why is she—no, I don't like that—"
Without warning, the woman yanked off her mask.
Then her cap.
Both of them screamed.
"WHAT THE—" Lesley lurched forward. "Denisse?!"
On-screen, Denisse stared straight into the camera.
Deadpan.
Unbothered.
She raised her middle finger.
Then mouthed—
"Fuck you."
Silence.
A long, heavy, what-just-happened kind of silence.
"Oh my God," Kate said faintly.
Lesley didn't move.
Kate turned to her—slowly. Carefully. Deeply judgmental.
"Les."
"...What."
"What. Did. You. Do."
"I didn't do anything!"
Kate pointed at the screen. "People don't just commit tire murder for no reason!"
"I said I didn't—"
"Did you put something on her food last time?!"
"No!"
"Did you insult her family?!"
"No!"
"Did you run over her dog?!"
"I don't even know if she has a dog!"
Kate threw her hands in the air. "Then why is she acting like a villain in a revenge movie?!"
Then Lesley remembered the note.
She unfolded it.
A beat.
"THIS IS NOTHING COMPARED TO NEARLY RUNNING ME OVER ON YOUR MOTORBIKE THIS MORNING!"
Lesley frowned. "Running her over...? What—when did I ever—"
Kate blinked. "What?"
Another beat.
Then it hit.
The memory slammed into her—speeding through traffic, barely slowing, Kate's voice in her ear about Carla—someone stepping off the curb—
"Oh shit," Lesley whispered.
Kate turned to her slowly. "What did you do."
"That was her," Lesley said, her voice dropping.
Kate snatched the note from Lesley's hand. She read it—then froze, visibly mortified.
"What?! You almost ran her over?!"
"I didn't almost—"
"Les."
A beat.
"...Okay, maybe a little."
Kate dragged a hand down her face. "You two are unbelievable."
A beat.
"So what now? Do we call the police, or do we just... accept that you have enemies now?"
Lesley stared at the frozen image on the screen, Denisse mid-gesture, defiant and furious.
"No," she said after a moment. "What if she could sue me too for almost hitting her. I'll handle this myself."
Kate studied her. "And how exactly do you plan to handle this?"
Lesley didn't respond. Instead, a slow, almost dangerous smile began to form on her lips.
"Oh," Kate said, recognizing it immediately. "I know that smile. You're planning revenge, aren't you? You sure you can pull that off?"
Lesley's lips curved further, the expression deliberate now. "Oh, yes." Her gaze drifted back to the screen. "Look at this. We keep running into each other even when we don't want to. I'm sure we'll meet again very soon."
Her eyes lingered on Denisse's raised finger, the silent challenge still hanging between them.