Must Date The Chef

|| 18.

Three days. One. Two. Three. Three good days since the incident at Chi's house and I have not seen Paul. If I thought he was avoiding me before, now, he is on ghost mode. I haven't caught a glimpse of him and Chi is not helping matters. Her continuous teasing is why I have refused to ask her about him. I blow on the strand of twist in my face and groan, I don't like this one bit.

My hand moves to the drawer and a frown makes its way to my lips. The package from King is still there, one look inside the box shows a dinner reservation at a fancy restaurant with a fancier name. His box of chocolate is sitting untouched in my office fridge. Paul's words haunt me, I can't eat them no matter how hard I try to, I fear I'll choke on them. I throw the box into the bin beside the door and give myself a mental high five when it lands inside on my first try.

A glance at my phone shows it is break time, I saunter to the fridge to retrieve the box of chocolates, pat my pockets to be sure his bracelet is intact. My feet don't hurt anymore, only a few shards of glass pierced them; the pain has reduced to a dull ache.

Chi is smiling at her desktop when I approach her desk, I dump the chocolate on the counter and say, "Help me. Please."

"He's in the kitchen," she replies without looking up, a pink colour staining her cheeks. "And you didn't hear it from me."

Her head raises for the first time since I have been standing there, she snatches the chocolate, opens it and inserts a square bit into her mouth without offering me any. I giggle when she closes her eyes to moan, we both love food and snacks. We love the good life. She breaks off another piece from the bar, offers it to me but I shake my head, she can have it all. I can get mine from Paul.

After a mental check of my appearance and a smile of approval from Chi, I sashay to the kitchen area with my hands inside the pocket of my plain, black trousers. I love the ease of movement in them, they are my favourite pair from my Palazzo collection.

"I would like to see Paul," I tell Okon, the Hulk of a man who comes to attend to me at the counter. He nods and walks away.

The restaurant is empty which is unusual, my only companion is the thrumming of the AC. My feet drum into the white tiled floor and my eyes scan the chilly room. Artificial flowers sit at the centre of some tables with music playing in low tunes from the flat screen television tuned in to HipTV. I have a strong suspicion the channel is Paul's handwork but I don't bother to ask him when he takes Okon's former position behind the counter with his usual frown.

"Madam," Paul says with a curt nod.

Here we go again.

At a loss on how to steer the barely started conversation to lighter grounds, I pull his bracelet from my pocket. "You forgot this."

Paul stretches his hand over the counter for me to place it there and my fingertips brush his palm when I drop it. A jolt of electricity shoots up my arm, making me forget all other things I planned to say. I withdraw my hand, click my tongue while trying to remember my reason for coming up here.

Think. You had a whole speech prepared for him.

"I want to see you in my office," I say while trying and failing not to come off as bossy. The corner of his lips twitch, I frown. "Now."

My tone leaves no room for arguments, I can't deal with one right now but from the look on Paul's face, that is the only thing on his mind and he proves me right when his lips part open. "You could have called me," he starts with a hint of mischief, "or asked someone else to do that for you, Madam."

I know that, smartass.

His brow arches and I scoff as he places one hand atop the other with a smirk decorating his lips as if daring me to call him out on the truthfulness of his statement. In the end, I settle with offering him a grim smile which soon transforms into a scowl. This is one of those moments where a slap will do a good job of buying his silence but I know that won't end well for both of us, especially me.