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I only hope he doesn’t remember what happened.
Because I’ll certainly never forget.
He narrows his eyes, like he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong.
I look away, feeling as transparent as a piece of glass.
“Gianna, is something the matter?”
I stop and look at him.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say calmly. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter Six
Lucas carries a stack of dirty plates from the patio and stacks them neatly on the counter. From outside, laughter drifts into the kitchen as satisfied guests finish his decadent dessert.
“Well done,” I say. “Based on the laughter outside, it seems tonight’s dinner was a success.”
Lucas shrugs. “It doesn’t take much to make a room full of hungry guests happy.”
Even though the kitchen looks like a bomb exploded, Lucas is glowing as he smiles at me, making my heart beat faster.
Fragrant spices still mingle in the air with the deep notes of chocolate, causing my stomach to rumble. We’ve been so busy, Lucas and I never had the chance to enjoy our food. His seared yellowfin tuna and kimchi fried rice were a big hit, only topped by a triple chocolate torte that made one guest gasp in delight.
It’s a shame it’s all gone.
My hands plunge into the soapy dishwater, ready to tackle the dishes when I realize Lucas is behind me.
“You’ve worked hard enough today. Time for a break.” He’s hiding something behind his back.
“I should finish the dishes first.”
Lucas frowns. “I’m your boss. And I’m telling you to stop. Let me do the dishes later.”
“But you cooked,” I say.
“And you did everything else,” he reminds me.
“It’s fine,” I say, scrubbing a stubborn stain.
“It’s not,” he says, taking the pot away and grabbing my soapy hand so I can’t steal it back. “If you’re going to be stubborn, I’ll force you to sit. Let me take care of the dishes.”
I raise one eyebrow. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“There’s a reason,” he says, smirking. He shows me what’s behind his back—a plate covered by aluminum foil. “It’s a special dish, just for you.”
“What is it?” I ask, trying to peek under the foil, but Lucas swats at my hand.
“No peeking!” he says. “I made it when you were busy cleaning up after the guests.”
“Wow,” I say, then frown. “But what will you eat?”
Lucas laughs. “Don’t worry. My stomach doesn’t let me forget.”
I try to take the plate from him, but he won’t let go.
“Sit, first,” he says.
