The elevator doors opened, revealing a long leather settee in an inlet between two large double doors. The glass doors on the right bore the writing "The Red Wolf" and were firmly closed. Probably the rooftop bar, Alex guessed. On the left, the heavy oak doors of Petrichor were propped open and a man stood behind a computer screen at a wooden desk a few steps in.

Petrichor: the earthy scent that rises after rain falls on dry soil. Alex had been pleasantly surprised by the name when Gabriel Moncrief's assistant sent her an email in response to her list of demands. 'Everything will be arranged according to your wishes. Please expect the contract within three days from the legal team. Please get in touch if you need further assistance. We look forward to having you at Petrichor'; the four sentence email was followed up with a link to the restaurant's website. Curt and to the point. Although, Alex should have expected as much. Her own initial email hadn't been much more wordy.

"Can I help you?" The man behind the computer screen gave her a quizzical smile when he noticed her. His name tag proclaimed him to be 'Mick' and his gaze said he was unimpressed with her attire.

"I'd like a table for lunch please."

"A table? Certainly." He looked behind her as if to double check that she would be dining alone, then grabbed a menu from somewhere below the computer. "Follow me, please."

Alex followed slowly, taking in the appearance and feel of the restaurant. The dining space was arranged on two levels. On the first level, floor to ceiling windows were interspersed with thin red brick walls and clusters of vintage bulb lights hung from the high rafters. The seating areas were made with dark wood and deep turquoise velvet and potted green plants placed in strategic corners matched the colour of the napkins on the tables. While most of the seating was designed for four, a few rectangular and circular tables seated up to ten guests. Mick showed her to one of the few free tables near the corner of the restaurant and handed her the menu.

"Your waiter will be right with you. Please, enjoy."

"Thank you." Alex smiled, taking a deep breath to keep calm. It wasn't being in the crowded restaurant or the dozen times she had brushed against people since getting on the airplane in Hong Kong that was making her edgy. It was the scent of bergamot that pervaded the entire hotel. The security guard at the entrance, the girl at the check-in desk, two of the waitresses in the restaurant and the bartender on the other side of the room; she was surrounded by it. It was obvious that Moncrief liked keeping people from his cult around him.

Forcing her muscles to relax, she looked out of the windows at the beautiful Boston city view. If it weren't for the accident, she might have studied in this city to become a doctor. Pushing away the growing feeling of regret, she focused her mind on the reason why she had come to this place: Gabriel Moncrief. Her fingers curled at the memory of his hand on her wrist and how she had felt nothing. Nothing at all.

Since the moment she woke from her coma, she had not encountered a single person like him. Even the monks, who possessed such high control over their bodies, emitted a dull ache when she touched them. A tight back, a headache, a pulled muscle...people were in constant pain and Alex took it all the moment she touched them.

Gabriel Moncrief was the only exception. How? Why?

Did it mean there might be others that she could be around without pain? Her heart beat rose at the possibility but she reminded herself for the hundredth time in the weeks since their encounter that she had to be patient. She needed time with Moncrief to figure things out and for that she needed to become a part of this restaurant.

Closing her eyes, Alex opened her senses and took a deep breath. Perfume, leather, damp cloth, sweat, hair gel...she sifted past the smell of people and things until she found the scent of the food. Garlic, shallots, lobster, avocado, truffles, seaweed...the ingredients were of the highest quality, the herbs fresh and the spices strong. Almost all of them.

Alex ordered all three listed starters, smelling and tasting the dishes as they came out. Concassé of oysters. Seaweed and lemon granité. Lobster, avocado and grapefruits seasoned with Sichuan pepper. The Chef's food was delicate, his presentation derived from the Michelin starred restaurant he had been working at perviously. His name was Luca Bisset. Gabriel's assistant sent Alex an email with information about the 29-year-old Chef who was brought in from the restaurant in The Moncrief Paris. The man had been hired when Alex insisted she would not take a permanent post. She had agreed, instead, to a six month contract during which she would create six signature dishes. After that, Bisset would continue as the sole chef at Petrichor.

Alex raised her hand, attracting the attention of a waitress. The pretty blonde came over with a smile.

"How can I help you?"

She took note of the girls' hands, then checked her ears for her mark. Seeing none, Alex concluded this cult member must wear her necklace under her shirt then pointed to the Lobster dish. "Could you take this back to the kitchen? This dish is unbalanced."

"Unbalance? I - um, certainly." The girl was clearly surprised, but her smile didn't falter as took the dish back to the kitchen. Alex checked the clock above two potted plants on the other side of the restaurant. If she was going to work with Chef Bisset, she needed to find out what kind of man he was.

It took four and a half minutes for Luca Bisset to appear on the floor. Alex watched her waitress lean forward and whisper in his ear, then he was looking across the restaurant floor until his eyes found her. Black hair, olive skin and honey coloured eyes, Alex understood why the gossip magazines couldn't get enough of him. By the time he reached Alex's table, all eyes were on him in admiration, either for his talent or his looks.

"Good day Madame, I understand you were disappointed with the lobster dish?" There was a hint of accent in his voice, a slight musical quality that might have been French or Italian.

"I was not disappointed, Chef Bisset. I just found the scent of the Szechuan pepper you used overpowering." She could see that her words surprised and irritated him, but he forced a smile as he spoke.

"No one has ever complained -"

"If you had used Timut pepper," she interrupted, "It would have picked up the citrus of the grapefruit and given the same tingling spice flavour that Szechuan does without overpowering the lobster."

Luca's mouth had gone slack, his eyes narrowing as he tried to see her face more clearly under her cap. "So you think you can make the dish taste better, is that right?"

He needed to work on his people skills, Alex noted. Of course, her own people skills weren't exactly the best. "It will not be perfect, but it will taste better than Sichuan pepper."

"Porco cane!" he laughed with disbelief, then he was crossing his arms over his chest. "It sounds like you are a chef yourself. Why don't you come to the kitchen and prepare your own lobster?"

Alex knew he was speaking from anger, but she wouldn't turn him down. Her arrival in Boston was not expected for another two days, so she hadn't banked on being able to see the kitchen this soon. In truth, the idea of entering the crowded space had been playing on her nerves so it was better to get it over with.

"Alright," she stood up, then reached for her cap. Alex knew she had been rude to wear it indoors, but had kept it on because of her discomfort. Now, however, she was about to enter a kitchen and wearing a cap into a place of cooking was simply out of question. Laying it on the table, she fixed her pony tail and faced Luca, "Lead the way."

The shock on his face was comical, "Sorry?"

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Are we not going to the kitchen."

Realising he was staring, Luca blinked rapidly, then straightened his back. "Alright. Come on then."

Eyes followed them as they crossed the restaurant towards the kitchen doors. A sudden onslaught of nerves threatened to make her knees weak, but Alex pushed it aside and pictured green plains under a sunny sky to bring her emotions back under control. She needed all her wits about her to navigate the kitchen without touching anyone and in a restaurant this size, there was sure to be a sizeable kitchen staff.