I nodded eagerly. “Same page, same paragraph.” He was still staring me down. “Same sentence.”
Jerry finally smirked and nodded back before spinning away. “Have a good weekend then.”
The door closed, and I leaned back against it. My face was soon covered in corgi kisses as I sank to the floor.
I didn’t have eight-hundred dollars. Hell, I didn’t have half that amount. Not yet, anyway.
That’s all your own fault, you know.
Beast continued licking my face, improving my sour mood. In truth it was my fault. I’d been splurging on ingredients. Buying the best when I could’ve made more economical substitutions. Still, it was hard for me not to. When I cooked, I cooked with the best. The best knives, the best cookware, the best spices. I bought the freshest proteins, too. Grass-fed beef. Free range chickens. Cage-free eggs…
Think any one of your clients care where their eggs come from?
It was stupid, I knew, because it was costing me my business. I was barely making enough to eke out a profit, much less pay my rent and make bills. Originally I’d figured I could save money as well. Finish out culinary school. Get a job somewhere prestigious, work my way up the ranks..
Maybe one day even open my own restaurant.
Your own restaurant? Yeah, okay.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it, it was just that everything still seemed so far away. Right now I was still trying to scrape together rent for my meager little apartment…
…while fighting off an overly-affectionate corgi.
I held Beast out at arm’s length. “Do you have eight-hundred dollars?”
He stared back at me with his curious brown eyes and cocked his head.
“Yeah,” I chuckled. “Didn’t think so.”
Three
KAYLEEN
It was a long, strange, and exhausting weekend. I’d worked just about every available hour, always on my feet. My fingers still smelled like garlic no matter how many times I washed them, every time I passed out into the bed.
And all I could think about was Chase.
Chase, whose kisses had practically melted me into a puddle right there in that beautiful kitchen. Chase, who’d had me halfway to his bedroom by the time one of his roommates burst through the front door.
Chase… who hadn’t called or even texted me, all damned week.
My thoughts were conflicted. I really liked him! I wanted him, totally desired him. And he wanted me, I was pretty sure of that. I could see it in his eyes. Feel it in his embrace, and in the way his taut body responded beneath my touch. And yet…
Monday finally arrived, and I strode straight through the kitchen and down that hall. I burst into his room without knocking, partially because the door was ajar, partially because I’d gone six grueling days without answers.
“Alright,” I spat, folding my arms across my chef’s whites. “Out with it.”
Chase was sitting at the other end of his room, typing away on
his keyboard. The squared off, U-shaped desk he was at looked like an aircraft cockpit.
“W—What?” He pulled a wireless earbud away from his left ear. “Kayleen?”
“Yes, Kayleen,” I said crisply. “You know, your personal chef? The girl who comes here every Monday to prep meals for you?”
“Oh.” He squinted up at me. “It’s Monday?”
“The girl you kissed last week,” I went on. “A lot. I mean like, a real lot.” I felt my frustration slipping. “And really well, too, I don’t mind saying.”