“Seb’s” is booming. Finally, Sebastian did it. His jazz club was perfect. The mix of snazzy freshness and absolute relaxation was the perfect recipe for the best jazz club around.

And the food and drinks there—the bar that just opened inside. Five stars from every small-town critic that had come. Sebastian had anticipated that though…you were the chef after all; his chef.

“She’s here? Shit.” He whispered, hands moving from your shoulders to rub down his face. His eyes left yours, brain working a mile a minute. Jazz music blaring behind the both of you.

Sebastian and you had started dating a few years back when the jazz club really started to pick up popularity. His effortless talent in jazz balanced your cooking experience perfectly.

Tonight the biggest critic you two had ever had was coming. Not only for cooking, but to give a rating on the whole club. A rating that could tank the public’s perception of “Seb’s”. One that could make or break the jazz club. And now…the critic is an hour early. Orders are a bit backed up from so many people ordering and Sebastian is missing a trumpet player, a sax player, and one of the backup singers for the stage.

“Shit. You just-jus’ take her order first and then do every one else’s. I’m gonna see if I can call anyone in last minute.” Sebastian pressed a soft, rushed kiss to your head.