Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.
~George Orwell
***
"Savannah Reece," she extended her hand towards him, praying for dear life that he wouldn't take it. But she knew he would, and he did.
"Zachary Sifton," he introduced and gave her a real smile, unlike hers which was completely white-collar.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sifton."
"Likewise, Chef Reece. And, please, call me Zachary, or Zac preferably. Mr. Sifton would be my dad."
Leave my hand already, she thought, hoping he could hear it. And perhaps he could, because he released her hand immediately.
"Noted. Oh, congratulations on the acquisition of the Sifton chain...Zachary."
The name felt foreign on her lips—she hadn't said it since college—and it left a bitter-sweet taste. Bitter was understandable, but sweet? Was it because of that crush which, as per her recent realization, she'd never really gotten over?
Get a hold, Savannah, she scolded herself. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
While Savannah was busy being anxious, he took his time checking her out. She was beautiful, not overtly, more like, naturally. She had black eyes and black hair. Her nose was sharp, and she had thin lips. She was, in no sense, his ideal kind, but looking at her, he felt the need to reconsider his choices.
"Well, Mr. Sifton, now that I'm in, can I have a look at the kitchen?"
Mr. Sifton just shrugged. It took a few moments for the meaning to dawn over her, but eventually it did.
"Oh. Oh. I get it," she chuckled. "Do you mind, Zachary?"
"Of course not. Come, I'll show you there. Dad, I'll see you later."
"Mr. Sifton, thank you," Savannah said as she shook hands with him yet again.
When she turned for the door, she saw Zac already holding it open gesturing to her to lead the way.
Outside she was met with Rhett's face who was leaning against the wall. Waiting, perhaps, for her to come out. Now, she understood why his face seemed familiar. He was Zac's brother, obviously he looked known.
"Rhett."
"You know him?" Zac asked.
You don't say? she thought. "Yeah. We met a while ago."
"Is it? Rhett?" Zac cocked an eyebrow and Rhett just shrugged. "He didn't try stuff on you, did he, Savannah?"
"Well... when you put it that way..." She saw Zac glare at Rhett who was smiling sheepishly. She laughed. "No. No. He didn't try anything. Right, Rhett?"
He shook his head innocently, making her laugh once more. "I knew you were my true friend, Savannah."
"Oh, that I am."
"Where are we going, big brother?"
"Chef Reece wants to see the kitchen space and related areas."
"Oh, yeah, Savannah?" Rhett asked her.
"Mm-hm. Where else will a chef want to be?"
"True that," he nodded, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Come I'll take you."
"What about him?" she asked of Zachary.
He shook his head vigorously, then dropped his voice just for name sake, because, in any case, Zac could hear everything, like he wanted it to be.
"See. Now's a good chance to elope, you see, and he'll only make things worse for us. Leave him," Rhett explained.
Zac cleared his throat sharply having heard Rhett's comments and was ignored.
"Ah. So, now there's an us also, huh?"
"Oh, it was there since I first laid my eyes on you—" he leaned down to whisper the correction in her ear, "your ass, actually. You have a pretty one, all right."
And, there she went bursting out yet again. This was the third time Rhett had made her laugh, Zac noticed. She seemed pretty comfortable with Rhett; unlike the way she was with him.
"Tell you what—we elope from the kitchen's rear, then get hitched at the church nearby, after which I'll personally fly you to all our honeymoon destinations. And I'll make sure you get firsthand experience at making out in the cockpit. What do you say?"
She chuckled. "Sounds like a plan. I'd love to have firsthand experience at necking in the cockpit. Seems sexy, doesn't it?"
Laugh number four. Of course, Zac would keep count.
"We'd have to find that out, won't we?" Rhett smirked.
"Mm-hm. But, well, we'd have to get to the kitchen first, right?"
"You have a point," Rhett agreed, starting to walk, dragging Savannah with him as Zac followed closely. "Well, now since we're getting married, how do you feel about beau and belle?"
"Thinking about progeny already, Rhett?"
"Are you hinting that you want to have kids with me, Savannah?" he cocked up a brow, a smirk in place. Though Savannah laughed, that statement earned him a smack at the back of his head.
Laugh number five.
"Anyway, they weren't names for our kids—though I don't mind having kids with you. Those were names—endearments—for both of us, since we're getting married."
"So you want me to call you beau and you'll call me belle?" He nodded. "Hm," she contemplated, "why French though? Don't fancy sweetheart or baby?"
"Not that I would mind any as long as they came from you, but they're very common, so..."
"You want us to stand out."
"Precisely! Well, you just proved that you're my soulmate. We have hell of telepathy."
She laughed. Again. Laugh number six.
"Agreed."
"Well, if you both are done, we're here," Zac interrupted, practically hissing.
"Ugh! Unwanted third-wheel interruption. Anyway, I'll see you later, belle," he said and leaned down to kiss her cheek.
"I'll look forward to meeting you again, beau," she smirked, but meant it, nonetheless. Her admission was returned with a flying-kiss.
She chuckled; this guy wasn't conventional, but he knew using out-of-fashion greetings with the right girls would get him bonus points. And, him using those with her meant he'd read her perfectly well.
Laugh number seven.
"Chef," he interjected her thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"The kitchen," he suggested.
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry."
"No problem."
Earlier, he'd thought she was formal by nature, but now, after looking at her with Rhett, he couldn't help but wonder that she was closed-off only with him. That being said, why?
"Zachary..." There it was, the bitter-sweetness, again.
"Yes?"
"I don't stay here, so I'm wondering if you could squeeze me in..."
"Absolutely."
"Um, that's not it. I have specific requirements for the living space."
"Which are?"
"Uh. A built in kitchen, with appliances and cookware. Is it possible?"
"Not in the hotel, it's not. However, my family and I stay in a villa just ten minutes from here. You'll stay there, with us."
"Oh, no, no. I can't do that. It's okay, I'll tell Abbey to rent out a place for me."
"Why? I mean, why the specific requirements?"
"See, I'm here only for three months, and from what I discerned, the gala's gonna be huge. Which is why I can't afford to waste time on experimenting what the menu would be in my kitchen-time. The first fifteen days or so, I'll need to adjust with your kitchen staff, then I'll need time to sync them with me. In the end, I'll be left with six to seven weeks. Do you get it?"
"Uh...kind of?"
She rolled her eyes in her mind. "What I'm saying is I'll have to utilize my kitchen-time carefully. The class of the gala will call for excellent, classy food."
She looked over at him and saw confusion written all over his face. She mentally face-palmed herself. "Speaking in a business manner, I'll have to strategize on my own and then get the staff to simply follow me, see if they can, and if not, alter. Getting it?"
"Now, in terms of business, yes. In a food sense, not quite yet."
"Never mind."
"Anyway, you can stay at our place. It's okay. Plus, mom would also like some change."
"Perhaps. But, I'd like to talk to her first. I can't just walk into your house. That's not right, personally or professionally."
"Okay."
He opened the kitchen doors and led her inside.
"Attention, everyone."
"Good Morning, Mr. Sifton."
"Morning. She's Chef Savannah Reece. She'll be the head chef until the gala, like I'd informed earlier. Do as she says and cooperate. I hear any complaints, you're fired, do you get it?"
"Yes!"
"Well, Chef, that's Xavier, Joseph, Lily, Laser, Chase, Delilah, Giovanni," Zac introduced, pointing at each one as they nodded in acknowledgment.
"Hello everyone, Savannah Reece. Nice to meet you all. I'll be with y'all from tomorrow for the next three months until the gala. Hopefully we'll get along and have a great time," she said and smiled.
Her smile was beautiful. So stunning that it was a damn shame it was not directed at him, nor was he the cause. He wanted it to be both.
"Yes, Chef."
"Make that Savannah."
"Okay," they chorused.
"See you tomorrow, everyone. I'll be coming after the breakfast shift. It was a pleasure having met you. Bye."
"Bye."
"Zachary, I was wondering if we could go meet your mom..."
"Right now?"
"Yes, if possible. Last two days we—Abbey and I—have been staying at an airport hotel which is an hour away from here, and I really can't afford tardiness for three months. Uh, so can we?"
"Can we what?"
"Go? To your villa?"
"Yeah, just a minute. I'll just confirm with my mom."
"Sure."
He came back after a few minutes and gave her an affirmative smile. "Let's go."
She smiled back. And, at this precise moment, he'd achieved at least one of his wants—to have her smile at him—from earlier. The cause one was still pending, which he swore to fulfil too. Not just once, but over and over.
—x—
She couldn't help but gape at the sight in front of her. A white villa. Naturally, it would be white. But it was classy and beautiful.
"We're here," Zac said, breaking her chain of thoughts.
"Yeah."
He strode up to the porch, with Savannah following behind, and rang the bell.
"Mum, we're here," he announced as soon as they were inside.
"Zac!" a short and petite woman with salt and pepper hair in a perfect bob cut said.
"Yup," he confirmed and pressed a kiss on her cheek.
"And who might this pretty woman be?"
"This is—" Zac started, but Savannah cut him off.
"Chef Savannah Reece, a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sifton. I'm the chef who's in charge of the food for the gala."
"The world-class chef. I remember. Zac just won't stop talking about you when he found out about you—"
"Mum," he tried.
"I guess he was thoroughly impressed with what he got out of researching you. He was looking for the best chef in the industry for a long time, and when he finally got you—"
"Mom," he tried again.
She waved him off. "It was a relief for him, and all of us. He would literally come and whine at the dining table daily before he found you—"
"Mom!" He had had enough of mortification. More than enough.
First, it was just too much information. Second, the wording was so, so wrong. His mom made him sound like some desperate stalker creep, obsessed with her.
"Okay. Okay," the older woman held her hands up.
"Well, Mrs. Sifton, Since the time I have at hand is less, I require a fully furnished kitchen with appliances and cookware. I was hoping I could stay in Magna itself to avoid wastage of time in travel. But, since there weren't any rooms that could fulfil my requirements, Zachary suggested that I lodge here. Is that okay? I mean, I know it's completely unprofessional of me—damn, what was I thinking, this isn't okay. I'll call Abbey and get her to make my arrangements somewhere else..."
"Breathe, Savannah," Clair interrupted.
"Yeah... yeah, sorry," she sighed.
"And, what Zac said was absolutely right. I'd love for you to stay here."
"But, Mrs. Sifton, let me tell you, I'll be experimenting with food and recipes... so it'd be very much possible that y'all will have to be my guinea pigs with the newly tried stuff. Tell me how it tastes and all. Well, I mean, though I'm a chef, it's still pretty likely that I mess up while experimenting. Is that okay?"
"Of course, dear. I'm sure we all would certainly welcome some change from everyday food. Well, now that that is decided, when do you move in?"
"Right now? Perhaps make you lunch. Oh, by the way, since y'all are doing so much for me, I take it upon myself to provide you with delicious food whenever I'm able to."
Clair simply waved her off saying, "You want to make us food, we are in. But, if you bring up obligations again, you are out. You are here for us, it's a damn shame my son hadn't thought about this, and couldn't get you what you needed," she said, casting a pointed look at her son, who ducked it. "You stay here."
"Yes, Mrs. Sifton."
"Experimenting, Chef?" Zac asked, referring to Savannah's proposal of making lunch.
She chuckled. "No, no. Today's meals and tomorrow's breakfast would be simple stuff."
Zac: One. Rhett: Seven.
Six more to go—No. Many more to go.
—x—
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Until next time...