The steaming water ran over Rick's shoulders as he stepped out of the glass shower in the Peninsula's top-floor penthouse. Evening light cut across the city skyline, gold and sharp.
He towelled his hair and smirked at the memory of the morning. Victoria had left his office looking almost composed again, except for that brief kiss on the edge of his lips. The Ice Queen was still the Ice Queen — just a little less frozen than before.
Rick opened the system interface with a thought. Chef progress sat at twenty percent. Mischief Points had climbed nicely after the office encounter. The International Culinary Summit was coming fast. If he wanted the Peninsula to crush every other kitchen in the city, he needed better ingredients than the hotel's standard stock.
He skipped the suits in the walk-in closet and pulled on a tight black t-shirt, a dark leather jacket, and fitted jeans. Then he took the private elevator straight down to the VIP garage.
