There was a scowl on Sesshoumaru's face when he left the restaurant. The mousse they'd been given had been delectable, possibly the best he'd ever tasted, but the manager had been so smitten with his mother that he hadn't been able to get the name of its creator.
He'd even checked the menu, but it hadn't been one of the regular options, leaving him with more questions than answers.
Running his claws through his hair, he turned the corner of the restaurant, intent on sending his mother a text once he was situated in his car, hoping that she would be able to tear herself away from the wind youkai long enough to answer. He crossed the parking lot, idly noticing the doors to the loading dock were open, with a large moving van backed in as far as it could go.
There was a grunt, a slender woman struggling under a large stack of boxes as she attempted to get them into the van. She yelped as her foot hit a particularly slippery patch of concrete, and Sesshoumaru was barely able to grab the top boxes as they toppled off the pile.
He set them down carefully, the woman doing the same before she flashed him a grateful smile. "My hero!"
"Hardly," he scoffed, then watched as she returned to the large doors to grab more boxes. "Are there not more employees to assist you?"
"Probably," she said with a shrug, "but I don't technically work here, so I don't want to bother them."
"You are in charge of deliveries?" he guessed, automatically grabbing more of the boxes himself.
The woman snorted. "Not with my driving record. The manager is a friend of mine and lets me use her kitchen when I have corporate catering orders."
"How generous." They'd just finished loading the boxes when an idea struck him. "If you know the manager, you will know the name of the chef responsible for the featured mousse tonight."
The woman stilled, then slowly turned around, finally giving him a full view of her face—and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.
Sesshoumaru momentarily lost his train of thought, drowning in sapphire as he tried to think of what he'd been planning on saying next. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, but the heavy lifting had caused a few waves to come free, and his fingers itched with the need to tuck them behind her ear.
"What was wrong with it?" she asked, face pinched with caution, hands on her hips as she took a defensive stance. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the petite but fierce warrior standing before him.
"Nothing," he said, finally finding his tongue. "It was perfection, and I wish to hire the one responsible."
"As a caterer?"
"As a pastry chef. I am opening a new restaurant in Hokkaido."
She immediately relaxed, the smile returning to her face. "Well, in that case, I'm Kagome Higurashi. Nice to meet you." She held out her hand, smooth fingers curling around his. "I make special desserts for Kagura as payment for using the kitchen. My little oven at home doesn't cut it for the big orders."
His thumb brushed the back of her hand, and she looked at him expectantly when he didn't respond right away. "Forgive me, I am Sesshoumaru."
A dark eyebrow rose when he left it at that. "Are we on a first-name basis already? Or was the mousse that good?"
Heat coloured the area between his stripes, and he smothered a curse, reluctantly releasing her hand to pull out a business card. "Sesshoumaru Taisho. Owner of Ogonshoku Industries."
She took the card with a slight bow, mirth swirling in those lovely eyes. "I'm out of business cards, but my catering company is called 'Aoitori'."
"Is it your dream to provide catering services?"
"It pays the bills," she said, placing the final box on the pile before shutting the van doors. "I just want to cook."
"I was serious about the new restaurant offer," he said, cringing at how desperate he sounded as he followed her back to the loading dock. "If you allow me to assist you with your delivery, I will provide you with more information."
"So now you want to get into my van while I drive to an unknown location? Did you never learn about stranger danger as a kid?" Sesshoumaru blanched, but she was already laughing, the sound sending shivers down his spine.
"Of course," he sniffed and straightened his coat, trying for some decorum. "I only wish for you to make an informed decision."
She regarded him for a moment, and he hoped she couldn't see the pink tinge of his ears under her scrutiny. "There's no way my mousse was that good."
"It was."
Her face slowly brightened, and she pulled a pen out of her back pocket, grabbing his hand before scribbling a phone number on his palm. "I've got a stop to make first, but text me, and I'll send you the address. You can tell me all about this restaurant while you help me unload and set up the order."
The sting of her pen was still fresh on his skin, but he returned the smile. "It would be my pleasure."