Being a Chef, you learned a thing or two.
1. You work well with your hands.
2. You're not afraid to get down & dirty.
3. You're all about pleasing.
4. You can satisfy every taste bud.
5. You can go on for hours without breaks.
6. You know how to han...
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Today is Helena's first day, and I hope I purchased what she will need to cook breakfast. I didn't have anything in particular that I liked or didn't like. So whatever she cooks will be fine with me. Last night I talked to Charles, and she was surprised that I managed to get Helena Mathis to be my personal. I didn't understand why she was surprised until she explained it in more detail. Apparently, Helena has never done anything outside of her restaurant. She is also very hard to book for anything, yet she is very well known. Charles said Helena is the next Leonor Espinosa, whoever that is.
I get out of the shower and change into loungewear just in time to hear the front doorbell ring. I glance at the time and see Helena is early. I walk downstairs, opening the door to be welcomed with a scowl. Either she isnt a morning person, or she doesn't want to be here. Let's hope it isnt the latter. I open the door wider so she can enter. I watch as her eyes move around my home. Taking it all in, last time, she wasn't able to because she was a bit intoxicated. I don't want to brag, but my condo is amazing. Another reason why I put off settling down. While the condo was spacious enough for a family of five, I wanted to give my wife and children a home with a picket fence and stuff.
She takes her shoes off at the door walking further into the condo. Placing her purse on the coffee table, she walks into the kitchen. I wonder when she is going to acknowledge me. After all, I am her employer at the moment. I lean against the wall watching as she washes her hands before opening the refrigerator doors. Her ass looks lovely in her red pants.
"Stop staring." She says, damn does she have eyes in the back of her head.
"I wasn't." I clear my throat. "Good morning to you, too," I add.
"Nothing good about this morning." She turns around with her hands full, closing the door with her back. I look at the ingredients, and I think she is going to make eggs and bacon. Simple. "Where is your pantry?" she asks, emptying her hands. I point to the door on her right. She comes back out with pancake mix.
"I could make that myself," I tell her.
"I bet you could. So why don't you? I don't think you need a personal chef, then." She raises an eyebrow at me.
"Because I'm paying you."
"Are you really, though?" She starts opening cabinets and looking for pans. I don't move and just watch. She slams the cabinet door a little too hard, and I wince. "Are you going to stand there and stare at me like a creep?"
I raise my hands in surrender. "I'll go watch the news until you're done." I turn and stop. "Oh, I have company, and if you can make enough for five, that will be fine. The girls like to eat." Helena's eye twitches, but she says nothing and nods her head. I don't give any explanations on who the girls are. I want to see how she would react, and right now, she isnt giving me much. I leave her alone, going into the living room.
Correction, she is giving me a lot.
Ten minutes after her being in the kitchen, I hear her slamming things. I should just put her out of her misery, but the girls beat me to it. Arianna and Brianna, Vincent's sixteen, almost seventeen-year-old twin daughters, walked downstairs annoyed.
