The thoughts stayed with her as she showered and dressed, pulling on her favorite pair of paint-splattered jeans and a soft purple peasant top, and she blushed all over again to think about how bold she had been. She was no shrinking violet, but usually she waited a bit before she unleashed her inner vixen. Something about the chef she met at the gallery showing had changed all that, and when she remembered his hands on her flesh, she felt herself heat up all over again. She wondered what would happen if she showed up at the doors of The Hunt, if she walked through the fancy dining room and confronted him in the kitchen. Would he look at her the same way? Would he touch her again? Then she looked down at her clothes, at the vivid green paint splatter on her jeans and her worn sandals, and realized that that was pretty unlikely. Apple had every intention of hunting him down, but at the moment, she needed time to gather herself. Her reaction to him last night was simply so strong that she needed time to collect her thoughts, and to do so, she made her way down to the midtown market.
