6
“Oh my god!”
Raquel looked up from her second caramel to see the assistant halted in mid-stride mere steps from her bench. She had to blink. Not wearing a chef’s coat and slacks, he was almost unrecognizable. He wore an old pair of cut-off shorts that revealed powerful legs, a t-shirt that clung to his frame, and a towel around his neck. He was a very handsome man in his chef’s suit. But out of it? Wow!
She primarily sold women’s clothes, but Perrin occasionally did menswear and Raquel knew enough about the male physique to see that he had a swimmer’s build. Not as a mere occasional workout; he obviously swam a lot to earn such conditioning.
“Madonna Lady,” he breathed it out on a gasp of disbelief.
“That’s not my name.”
“So, what is your name?” he growled in frustration.
“Raquel
