With that reminder, we make our way to the boardroom, where the number one topic of discussion happens to be my love life. If I have to endure one more conversation about taking photos with my so-called arm candy, hyping up the image of being a hot single dad, or generating buzz, I’m going to lose it.

I understand that I’ve stepped back from the spotlight for the past five years and that my personality hasn’t always been...stellar. But I’m a master chef, the best on this side of the hemisphere. I can anchor a cooking show. I can be the face of my restaurants. And I can certainly secure lucrative brand deals without the GQ hype. I don’t need to put on a dog and pony show gallivanting around town with Kerry on my arm like a prop. I’m adamant about not turning our working relationship into a public spectacle. She’s far more than just a pretty face to parade around. Yet, despite my resistance, we agree to officially begin our public charade today.

“Mr. Grimes, you’ve been supposedly dating your bombshell, small-town girlfriend for months,” my head of PR snaps, her frustration mirroring my own. “So why haven’t we seen a single post on social media? Why hasn’t there been a glamorous getaway to get the bloggers riled up? You need to be out on the town with your face in front of cameras as much as possible. She’s our key to making you more human, softer, more likable. You haven’t even been spotted out as a family. I’m sure the girls adore her.”

I clench my jaw, the tension snapping like a rubber band. “First off, don’t mention my daughters.” My voice drops, low and firm. “Secondly, I value my privacy, and so does Kerry. And thirdly, it’s my culinary creations that should be drawing attention, not my personal life.”

“Exactly,” Mom chimes in, nodding her support like she’s been waiting to back me up.

“Wrong,” Hudson cuts in, leaning forward with that infuriating know-it-all smirk. “We’re launching three new ventures in the next six months, Vic. Your name needs to be at the forefront of everyone’s minds before the show even airs. You’re not just a CEO; you’re a figurehead.”

“Well, I don’t need to be like every other CEO, Hudson.”

“Oh, you definitely aren’t. I’ve never met a CEO more concerned with menial matters like restaurant menu items over profit margins, branding strategies, and securing partnerships,” Hudson fires back, his voice sharp with barely concealed frustration. “You get to play chef while I handle the real work that keeps this company running.”

I slowly exhale, willing myself to stay calm, but my patience is hanging by a thread. “The real work? Is that what you think?”