Jealousy is love and hate at the same time.
~Drake
***
Goddamn! It had been two weeks and four days since that meeting on Saturday, meaning he hadn't seen her since. Plus, she'd broken her promise of staying in the second Sunday, because she'd worked in the kitchen that day too. And, there were still four days left for this week's Sunday to arrive. Four days until he hoped he could see her again, if she kept her promise of not working on Sundays. But, nothing could be said, because, first, she was her own boss, and second, she wasn't working for him as Zac, she was working for him as the owner of Magna. So, whatever Zac wanted wasn't on her radar, only what Magna's owner and the host of the gala wanted was.
He gulped whatever was left of the juice on that frustrated note. He wanted to see her, spend time with her as Zac, not as the heir to the Sifton chain of hotels. What he felt for her was personal, not professional, though she'd want otherwise.
"Good morning, Zac," his mom greeted him as she walked down the corridor.
"Morning, mom." He pressed a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Up early?"
"Mm-hm. Your dad started snoring so loudly I woke up, couldn't sleep at all after that," she sighed, and he chuckled. "Don't laugh."
"Okay. Sorry." He kissed her again.
"So what juice was it today?"
"Watermelon."
"Oh, that's nice. She's wonderful, isn't she? After she got you to eat your lunches regularly, I've been meaning to thank her, but she isn't seen at all these days. When was the last time you saw her?"
"Eighteen days ago."
"Hmm. I see. Someone is counting days."
"Who is?" he asked, pretending to be clueless.
He washed the glass and kept it back in its place, a smile gracing his lips the whole time. She'd been keeping juices or shakes for him to drink after workout every morning since that first Saturday she'd made him avocado shake. The next day, he remembered, Sunday, he'd found a Post-it stuck on his door when he was leaving for workout that said:
I've kept orange juice for you in the
refrigerator, drink it after workout.
— Savannah.
On Monday it said:
Today it's lemon juice. Was getting late,
couldn't make a fruit shake. I will tomorrow.
— Savannah.
She continued on pasting notes like those—which he was scrupulously collecting—until Thursday, after which it became their routine.
"Are you coming home for lunch?"
"I guess not. I'll eat at Le Saveurs itself. There's a lot of work today." He'd been eating his lunches—either at Magna or at home—religiously after Savannah had called him out on his unhealthy eating habits the other day. Saturday.
"I see. And, have you gotten lucky yet?"
"Mom!"
"What? Oh, no, no. Not in the sexual way. I mean, did your efforts of eating at Le Saveurs pay off yet?"
"Huh?"
"Good God, Zac. Did you meet Savannah yet?"
He coughed. "What?"
"You think I don't know why you insist on eating at Le Saveurs these days?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I know you go there hoping to meet Savannah. So did you get to see her yet?"
"No, but how do you know?"
She laughed. "I know you enough to know when you're pining for someone."
"I am not... pining... for her," he tried lying.
"Come on, Zac. Look, as a matter of fact, I know you had sex for the first time when you were sixteen with Serenity who was two years elder to you. So, stop running away from me."
"What!" he gasped. "Why do you know all that?"
"Just because. Which is why I'm saying I know that you like her—Savannah—and just so you know, I approve."
"We can't be having this conversation right now. Anyway, I'll go have a bath. Breakfast'd be ready by then, right? I have to go in early today."
"Okay. Then I'll make sure it's ready."
After having the regular everyday English breakfast—which made him want Savannah's food as a change for his taste buds—he left for Magna. He had a shit ton of work today. He had to conduct a staff meeting—minus the food department—review the finances, finalize the design for the invitation galas, draft the invites, send them for printing, he thought and mentally ticked them off one by one.
By lunch he'd gotten only two of those five things done. He entered Le Saveurs sans any gadgets, so he could keep a close watch for Savannah. As he looked around, he saw a man standing in wait for someone at the far corner of the restaurant. He shifted his gaze back to the kitchen doors hoping that they would open to reveal Chef Savannah—he'd never seen her that way, in work mode, and he wanted to—and when they did, he almost hopped up before he realized she was making her way not towards hime, but towards that man. The smile etched on her face so huge he was surprised her face hadn't split into two. He'd never seen that kind of a smile on her. She looked elated. Thrilled.
He watched them as she lunged herself at him. And he caught her—dammit!—and put his face in the crook of her neck as she did the same. They seemed to be awfully...intimate. Yes, he confirmed, when she kissed him noisily on the cheek.
"Jas Payne!" she rather yelled.
"Savannah Reece," the guy laughed, "still the same."
"Mm-hm." Zac saw her clasp his hand in hers and start walking. It made him wonder—had she even seen him? "What are you doing here, in DC?" Savannah asked that jerk.
No, he didn't know that man, but he did know that the man had to be a jerk, of class A.
"There was a small workshop I conducted yeste'day on makin' chocolate at L'Academie de Cuisine in Gaithersburg. I just asked Abbey where you were at, and she said you were in DC, so I came to meet ya," he told her in a proper British accent.
"Good decision," she smiled at him—making Zac scowl—and sat down at the table beside his. "So, tell me how's stuff going?"
"Wha' do I say? 'S amazing, all good. Wha' abou' you?"
"This is where I'm right now, for the next three months. Then let's see, wherever I'm called."
"Fo' wha' are you here?"
"The owner Gerald Sifton, his son Zachary Sifton, he is taking over in practice. There's a gala as a celebration, so they want me to head the kitchen till that day—included."
"Ah. I see. And how's it goin' so fa'?"
"It's amazing. Their staff is really friendly. There's this girl, chef, called Lily. The other day, I called her to sample my version of the pot pie gravy, she was so excited," she laughed in remembrance.
"Excited?"
"She said I was—have been—her idol ever since she joined culinary school. She admitted being on the verge of fainting when I first met for a brief introduction. And then the next day, my first day there, when I called her to taste my food, she looked ecstatic and nervous. It was cute."
"Yea. It sure sounds cute."
"It was so flattering, I wasn't expecting something like that, you know."
"I do no'. I'd say, you are practically a celebrity, at least in the culinary world. Chefs and food enthusiasts are bound to know you. You are an icon, Savannah Reece, believe it."
"Shut up. It's nothing of that sort."
That was it, he had to interfere, Zac decided. Wiping his mouth with the napkin, he stood up and walked right up to them.
"Savannah," he called.
"Zac." Her face paled and her tone was that of utter surprise, as if she hadn't expected to see him here. She stood up. "Hi. What can I do for you?"
"Not much really. Just wanted to tell you that I've been eating lunch here for some time now, and it's genuinely wonderful."
"Glad you like it."
She waited for him to leave, but he never even moved a leg. He stood there. Finally she gave up and introduced him.
"Jas, this is Zac—Zachary Sifton—the would-be owner. Zac, this is Jas—"
"I can introduce myself, Savannah Reece. Jaspe' Payne. Nice to meet you, Mr. Sifton."
Zac shook the held out hand. "You too."
"He's a friend of mine—"
"With benefits; no? You forgot to add that, I guess," he teased Savannah and earned an elbow jab in the gut.
Serves you right, thought Zac. Savannah was friends—with benefits, he sourly added—with this douche? Bullshit. Wait. Was he jealous? he asked himself. Damn right he was!
She continued, "He is a close friend. He was here for a chocolate making workshop, just dropped by to meet me." She didn't know why she felt the need to explain all this to Zac, but she did. "It's been really long since we last saw each other. How long, Jas Payne?"
"I guess abou' two years or so?"
So this douche, Jasper Payne, was a Brit. And, he was a chocolatier. Both things—not good. If he knew women any good, both those traits would've definitely earned him brownie points over these years.
"Probably," she agreed and then paused. "Maybe if you both are done sizing each other up, we could carry on with our jobs. Jas Payne, come on, tell me more about chocolate and all that. I don't get to work with chocolate, you know that."
"I can't say no to you, can I?" He grinned. He pulled out from the hand shake abruptly without so much as sparing Zac a glance and sat down across from Savannah. "Wha' do you wanna know?"
"Everything. A to Z."
"Got it. From A to Z you say. A would be that I opened a sto' three years ago—"
She gasped. "A store? Why don't I know of this, Jas Payne?"
"Because I wanted tha' to be successful before I disclosed it to you. Anyway, so my own chocolate sto'—tick. Then two years ago, it became a chain of sto's because of the demand for chocolate. And now, it's a franchise."
"Oh my God! That's wonderful. I'm so proud of you. You've grown so much from that eighteen-year-old boy I used to know. Holy shit. This makes me so proud."
"Why, thank you, Savannah Reece."
"Your chocolate is a brand, huh?" He nodded. "I love it. What's the brand called, though?"
"'S called Decadentia. 'S the Latin transliteration for decadence."
"Meaning self-indulgence. Yeah, chocolate is definitely self-indulgence. Wow. That sounds so cool."
"That's your brand, Mr. Payne?"
Both the heads—Savannah's and Jasper's—snapped towards Zac. He was still here?
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"I've heard a lot about it. Many of my friends are in London. They tell me, time and again, about the absolute delight your chocolate gives them," Zac stated.
Savannah whistled. "See! I knew you were amazing."
He grinned at her, then shifted his attention to Zac and said, "Well, thank you, Mr. Sifton."
"Well, Jas Payne. Come on. I want to show you off to my new colleagues. Wait," she turned to Zac, "that should be okay, right?"
He wanted to say, "No. You can't take him inside. Also, tell him to leave here right now, before I call the security to escort him". But what she said was, "Why not? Sure."
"Thanks. Come on, Jas Payne. Let's show you off."
"Yeah. Okay, okay. I'll come. Lead the way, Savannah Reece."
"Um. See you later? Zac."
"Sure."
—x—
He was distracted the whole day. Because of that one encounter with that jackass—Jasper Payne. No, not Jasper Payne—how'd he say it?—yeah, Jaspe' Payne. Douchebag. He raked fingers through his hair, messing them up in the process and stood up to leave for home, he wasn't getting any work done anyway. Going home seemed like a better choice. Savannah was making things difficult for him and he didn't know shit what to do about it.
He reached home in five minutes flat. His mom opened the door and stood in his way with her eyes wide and mouth agape.
"Mom, you're in my way. Move."
"Zac? What are you doing here?"
"Couldn't get any work done, so I came home."
"Oh. I see you met her."
"I didn't say that. What makes you think so?"
"Zac, I don't think so, I know so. You met her and it didn't go well, am I right?"
"I see there's no point in telling you otherwise. Yes, it didn't go well."
"Tell me?"
"Maybe." Clair waited for a beat. She knew her son enough to know that he would definitely tell her, and he did. "Like every day, I was waiting for her sitting at the table closest to the kitchen so that I could see the smallest of movements—I know it's lame."
"No it's not. Someday, I'll tell you what all your dad did to get to me."
"Okay. Anyway, she came out and I was hoping she'd see me, you know, because I was sitting right there. But she didn't. There was this guy who was waiting in a corner—she went right towards him, more like, threw herself into his arms. Th—They seemed... cozy."
She recognized it. Her son was jealous, because the other guy got what he didn't—Savannah's undivided attention.
"Then, I guess I made things awkward by right up to them and making her introduce me to him. He's called Jasper Payne, by the way. When she saw me, it was clear I was an interruption and she didn't want me there, but... I stayed for a few more minutes before she left with him. She said he was a friend—I don't think so, though."
"Zac, you were jealous there and you acted in a very terrible way. You should know better than to interrupt her like that—friends or not. She needs her own privacy—who she meets, who she talks to is her business."
"I know that. And I know I was jealous, but I don't understand why? It's not like she's my girlfriend or anything. Nowadays, I don't understand myself when it comes to her."
"Hm. That's because, though you don't do relationships, you want to now. With her. You have developed an extreme possessiveness about her and that is because you much more than just like her. Do you get what I'm saying?"
After how he'd acted today, he was absolutely sure he more than liked her. But did that mean he was... falling for her? That couldn't be, right?
Sensing his inner predicament, Clair advised, "Talk to her, Zac. Directly. You talking to me isn't going to get you anywhere."
"I might. At least I need to apologize for how I behaved today," saying so he left for his room.
—x—
Well... guys. How did you like Jasper Payne? He's a Brit and he makes chocolate. Definite brownie points for him, right? And, what do y'all think about Zac's stupid move—was it uncalled for or not? Does Zac have any business getting so riled up? I personally don't think so... BUT, at the same time, I enjoyed writing Jealous Zac.
If you liked Chapter 9, please vote and comment.
Thank you!!
Until next time...