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“I’ll be in my office when you are done.” Truth be told, I’m terrified of going back to my place to find his daughter waiting for me with more questions I could never answer. Yes, me, terrified.
Unbelievable, I know, but here we are.
I open the door to my office when I remember I left my chef’s jacket in the main kitchen.
So, I shut the door again and started walking when a phrase stops me dead. “Fuck, that pussy better be gold-plated, Vas. Working with Ursula is bad enough, but dating her? I guess I see the appeal in that ass, and tits are nice too, but—” The voice gets cut off, and a loudthudsounds through the kitchen.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” in comes Vassar’s voice, and to anyone in there, it may seem cool and collected, but I hear the dangerous note in there. The threat.
I inch closer to hear the conversation better. “Not only are you talking about your boss, but you are talking aboutmywoman, and I won’t stand for that.” I suck in a sharp breath at his words as sweet warmth floods the veins leading to my heart. “This is your one and only warning.”Thud. “Next time, I will throw you against the concrete outside rather than the fridge in here. You got it?”
“Y-yeah, yeah, man. Sorry. I didn’t know it was like that.”
“Like what?” Now, everyone can hear the strain in his voice.
“I didn’t know you were serious. I thought it was just sex, you know?”
“Well, now you know. It’s serious.” There is a beat of silence, and his voice comes back louder. “Now, you all know, and I don’t want to hear your smart remarks every few seconds anymore. I value each one of you as a necessary part of this kitchen, but bad-mouth my woman or our relationship one more time, and I won’t hesitate to find a new team.”
“Yes, Chef,” a collective chorus of voices answer back while I am trying to order my feet to move.
Vassar Levidis just stood up for me. For us. I thought he couldn’t care any less. I thought he hates my guts. I was certain his stony mask would remain intact, but he threw someone against a fucking fridge multiple times to shut them up.
Now, what do I do with this knowledge and my very aching sex? Because, damn it, it was one of the hottest things ever. Someone standing up for me. No, not someone. Him. And maybe, just maybe, I want him to want me…
Not the restaurant mogul, world-class chef, Kira Clark. But me.
And it’s a dangerous wish, especially seeing as the last time I had a similar urge, I barely made it out alive. Losing a few vital pieces of myself in the process.
“You heard that, didn’t you?” Vassar breaks the silence after a few minutes of driving in the back of my Rolls.
“Yes, I did.” I don’t see a point in lying here.
“Okay.” He looks out the window, his knuckles running up and down his thigh. I’m about to ask what does okay mean when my phone rings, flashingLandon-the-devilon the screen. Of course, he would call at two AM.
“Well, this is an unpleasant call,” I greet him.
“You have the audacity to rob me of two big-time stories, and you call my call unpleasant?”
“Drop the dramatics, I am prone to them. Get to the fucking point.”
“You were getting proposed to with a ton of paparazzi in the building, and you didn’t think to invite me over? Or at least give me the heads up?”
“A, you are about a day late. What were you doing? Living inside your secretary’s vagina?”
“I told you—”
“B, do you think if I had known that idiot was going to propose, I would actually show up there? Are you okay? Didn’t I start this whole fake boyfriend ruse tonothave this happen?”
I hear Landon growl into the phone. “Tomorrow, nine AM, you and Vassar better be sitting in my office and selling me your love story.”
Before I get to tell him to go to hell, he hangs up.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.
“I am not doing an interview with you tomorrow,” Vas speaks up, still staring at the window.
“How convenient for me that you eavesdrop.”
