Gabriella’s POV

By the time the conference started, my entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck.

I’d been cooking for hours straight — chopping, stirring, baking, frying — basically running around like a headless chicken. The clock struck 8, and I was still behind the giant counter, sweating like crazy but determined to finish strong.

At least this was the part I actually enjoyed. Cooking was my thing. It was far better than sorting through dusty files and dealing with ...