Sparks

I knew he was going to be trouble the minute I set eyes on him.

Acclaimed food critic, Matthew Griffin, the guy who tore down my food in this very restaurant was here as my blind date? Yeah, trouble.

The moment he turned around in a black and white suit with a bottle of champagne and announced he'd booked out the whole place just for us and set up a 'blind date', I knew trouble was his middle name.

I hated him.

But he was so bold.

The strawberries and chocolate helped. He knew how to woo a woman – aphrodisiacs aren't a myth, after all.

"You look... incredible," he whispered, handing me a glass of champagne.

"Thank you," I answered, and sipped the bubbly. They worked their way down my throat. I felt warm; happy even.

He was still trouble. Sparks were flying, but I wasn't sure whether it was the hatred of his scathing review six months ago still on my brain, or whether it was the way the suit clung to his body or the woody scent of his aftershave and aphrodisiac alcohol and fresh strawberries in the air.

"I wanted to apologise for my review," he said. His husky voice was tinged with regret, but I also knew he wasn't really sorry. Why would he have written it otherwise?

"I'd rather you just try the food again and give it another chance," I replied.

He chuckled, and it filled the whole dining area like a string quartet. "I did. Either you've improved, or my palate has refined."

I snorted at him and sipped my champagne before I said: "If you were this smooth with your reviews, I might not have hated you for so long."

"You hate me, Mira?"

"Well, I did. You're certainly doing a good job at changing my mind," I pointed out.

"I'm pleased," he said. It was when he fell silent that I noticed the music: classical violins.

"You set this up, didn't you?" I mentioned.

He chuckled, held his hand out once he put the champagne flutes on a table. I put my hand in his and flushed my body against his for a slow dance.

That behaviour wasn't me; I hated the man. He butchered my restaurant, caused friction within the team, hurt my feelings. Yet... something about him was irresistible.

"I knew you'd never turn up unless it was a blind date. Yes, I set it up. I saw you when I came in the other day to do a new review. Just like the food, you're exquisite."

I stare into his eyes. Truth is a fickle thing, especially in the food world, but his blue eyes sparkled when he looked back, so I knew he was telling the truth.

When his lips met mine, it was sudden and shocking, yet I knew one thing: sparks always meant trouble.