Chapter 4

• BRANDON
• Try not to make it too creepy... Try not to make it too creepy...
• It’s really simple. She’ll just have to pick up the damn phone, and I’ll ask her what I need. It’s not like I’m going to show her my face.
• It’s very little information in exchange for a fortune I made sure she can’t decline. I saw her profile, so I knew exactly what she would need.
• Damn it. But how am I supposed to talk to her if I’m this anxious?
• I have not spoken to anyone besides my closest relatives for a long time. But this is the first time I think I’m close to reaching my objectives, and Oliver assured me that we finally found the right person.
• That’s what I hope, at least.
• “Brandon?”
• I swivel my chair around and meet Oliver’s curious face. “Have you spoken to your new assistant? What is she like?” I ask.
• “My new assistant or your new informant?” Oliver jokes and laughs. He pulls a chair in front of my desk and sits with his ankle resting on his knee.
• I roll my eyes. “Oh, please.”
• “She’s a little nervous and very curious, but I’m certain she’s talented. Though I also think she’s quite easy on the eyes.” A smirk plays on the side of his mouth.
• I throw a crumpled paper at him. “I don’t care what she looks like! I need to know if she’s cooperative enough so we can move forward with our plans. How about you speak to her instead of me?”
• His eyes squint at me. “You know that you have to be the one to speak to her.”
• “You know my situation. I’ll only creep her out,” I retort. I pick up my stress ball and grip it to relieve my agitation.
• “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We can give it a little more time before moving forward, yes?” he says.
• “I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”
• “She’ll be around. Besides...” Oliver stands up and stretches out his arms. “I really need an assistant or someone I can trust with your meals. You have to get used to other people’s cooking other than Lennie’s and mine, and you know exactly what I mean,” he says frankly, and he has every right to say those words to me. I can’t depend on him my whole life like I’ve done in the past decade.
• I’m well aware that Oliver has a life of his own. Nevertheless, I honestly can’t imagine myself going through all this without him.
• “And Lennie’s not going to be here forever,” he adds.
• I gaze up at Oliver. “Neither can she,” I say, referring to his new assistant.
• “You’re thinking too much. Relax, man. The future is uncertain,” he implies and grins. “Anyway, I have to get your dinner ready.”
• ALAYNA
• Over the past month, everything has been the same with Oliver and me. He is still funny, helpful, and I like being with him. I would’ve been so lonely if he weren’t in the house. I feel like we can be good friends.
• However, I’ve been busier than ever for the past few days. Oliver has been working long hours in the office and often comes home late. He’s still the company’s CEO, after all. Considering how much he does around the house, I’d almost forgotten.
• We have not had many talks since then, as he is so busy. Similarly, Ms. Lennie will only come to my station when the food is ready to serve our boss in Oliver’s absence.
• I’m getting used to my job. I love making good food, and I’ve always dreamt of becoming a professional chef and owning a restaurant someday. Well, being an assistant chef means a lot more to me than being a food taster. Cooking has been my passion since my dad taught me how to move around the kitchen. He also used to tell me that good food is the way to reach people’s hearts. And I believed him. It reached mine as well.
• My profession has been my escape from my greatest nightmares. I just wish he were still here to see me and my achievements.
• Today is my lucky day because lunch is beef stroganoff. This is the dish I feel I’ve already perfected; my mentor back in Venice would always praise me whenever I cooked it for her. I switch my mp3 music on, putting in my earphones before I start cooking.
• I finish preparing the meal at eleven-thirty. I take out a bottle of Merlot from the mini wine cellar and place it on the marble island with a glass. I find a notepad and write a note on it.
• “I made you a topping sauce. It’s my own recipe. I hope you like it. Alayna.”
• I leave the condiments to mix together and close the lid. An hour later, Ms. Lennie finds me in the kitchen, bringing back empty dishware. I rejoice at the sign of a clean plate.
• “Ms. Lennie.” I greet her with a smile.
• “Miss Hart,” she says. I can tell by her tone she is about to reprimand me, and my smile fades. “Master Brandon likes the meal, but he said it’s better if you don’t leave notes and clear the tray, or he’ll just throw it away. Didn’t Mr. Katrakis tell you not to improvise?”
• My mouth parted. She’s talking about the condiments I don’t see on the tray anymore. I couldn’t understand what was wrong. He liked the meal, and he ate all of it. Why were they both upset?
• “But I only did that because—”
• She doesn’t give me a chance to speak and leaves.
• “Thanks, Ms. Lennie!” I shout to the door, unsure if she even heard me or not.
• Of course, I remember the improvisation rule, but I am also a chef. Oliver always told me that written recipes are not everything. He entrusted me with his cousin’s meal, and I know that food should not be taken lightly.
• At dinner, I make him moussaka and serve it with a parsley and mint salad and crusty bread. Deliberately, I take out my stick-on notes, writing another.
• “I’m glad to hear that you like the food, but those condiments were needed. Also, I added an egg soup. Kalí óreksi!”
• Ms. Lennie delivers empty dish wares to the kitchen a couple of minutes later and disappears. I guess our boss didn’t complain this time, but then I notice a note on the pepper mill.
• You make good food, Miss Hart, I give you that, but I don’t think you need to add notes every time.
• Oh my God! Did he just reply?
• I smile in victory and laugh out loud. He has beautiful handwriting too.
• Five days later, Oliver still isn’t working in the kitchen, though I’m pretty much enjoying my job as the days go by.
• Ever since I started writing notes to the elusive Brandon Lucien, I’m beginning to feel his presence—like I’m actually cooking for a person. He isn’t so invisible anymore. He’s actually, and peculiarly, responding to my notes.
• For today’s lunch, I heartily make him a marinated and smoked chicken with tzatziki sauce. This time, I make him brownies for dessert.
• I write him a note again.
• “Try the food with a glass of champagne. It tastes better.”
• Ms. Lennie doesn’t seem to mind me anymore, but she always tastes the food before serving it to our boss. As usual, I never expect a reaction from her. When she returns, I find another note from him, and this time he provides a note clipper.
• However, the brownie box went back untouched.
• I read his note.
• You’re right. A glass of champagne does make it taste better. But weren’t you told not to improvise? I don’t eat brownies.
• I laugh at his answer. I’d already started improvising, and he was eating it anyway.
• “Someone’s happy.” Oliver’s soothing voice snaps me out of my thoughts. He is leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest, looking regal in his bespoke three-piece gray suit. I don’t usually see him in very formal business attire.
• “Hi,” I greet him. “I’m making a savory pie.”
• His eyes gleam. “Oh, wow. Would you give me some?”
• “Sure. Let this cool for a second.” I briefly stop mincing the garlic and move over the crockery to grab a plate. I put two slices on the plate and carefully set it in front of him.
• “Thank you.” He picks up a slice and takes a bite. “So, how’s your day?”
• “It’s getting better.” I grin. “How are you?”
• “The crucial days in the office are over,” he says. “I can work here again, but as I can see, you’re getting used to it.” Oliver flashes a smile and looks at me meaningfully.
• “We’re talking now,” I say proudly and smile back.
• “Yes, I heard about the notes.” He takes another slice of pie. “But how did you manage to pull that one, hmm?”
• “I guess he’s telling you about it. I don’t know.” I shrug. “I just tried to write to him, but I didn’t expect that he would respond.”
• “That’s progress, and since Lennie is already up to her neck with house chores, I really needed someone I could count on whenever I’m absent. Like you.”
• “Right, but Ms. Lennie is still someone you can count on. She’s just a bit busier than everyone,” I comment. “I’m glad to work with you.”
• “Are you?” he teases, and he’s got a playful smile on his lips again.
• “You’ve been a good friend too.”
• His smile widens. “I wish to be friends with you too, Alayna.” He puts down the fork on the side of the empty plate. “Thank you for this. I enjoyed the food.”
• “You’re most welcome.”
• “I’ll cook Brandon’s dinner tonight,” he offers and glances at the fish fillets on the prep area, then back at me. “You’ve been busy for the past few weeks. Why don’t you go to my shelf now and grab my booklet?”
• “Is it all right?”
• “Yes, so we can start your next lesson. I have dishes I want to share with you.”
• I grin. “Thank you.”
• “I’ll be right here.”
• I wash my hands thoroughly and take off my apron. Eager to see another one of Oliver’s recipe collections, I hurry out of the kitchen and head to the library.
• I only want to take the booklet, but the library is so tempting to explore, I decide to stroll around. I go to the library’s second floor to check for more books, but the section is all about computers, systems, information technology—which isn’t my thing. However, it makes sense since Grethe and Elga Enterprises is a leading technology company in New York.
• I wander some more and find another door. I open it, thinking it could be the library’s extension. But to my surprise, I stumble into another room with a king-sized bed. It isn’t the library’s extension at all! I’m in someone’s room.
• However, there’s no sign of life inside, so I calm down, step back and find another door. Wanting to get out, I open the door, only to find out it isn’t the exit I’m expecting.
• A sound of running water coming from a shower catches my attention. My eyes widen in shock to find the broad, ripped back of a tall man. He has a slim waist, and his back has defined muscle cuts. I stagger back, but my eyes trail down to the most perfect, round butt I’ve ever seen in my life.
• Every hair on the back of my neck stands at the sight of him. It isn’t my first time seeing a man’s butt—I’ve seen plenty, actually—but this man’s ass is undeniably different from any I have seen before. He’s incredibly sexy.
• Oh my! Is that him?
• I turn quickly, realizing I’m trespassing on someone else’s privacy.
• “Who’s there?”
• This is asked in an angry shout. I swiftly run out of the room until I miraculously find the door where I came from and escape through it. The stairway toward the mansion’s left wing catches my view, and Ms. Lennie is waiting at the bottom. I’m even more nervous now. She is glaring at me, her arms crossed over her chest. When did she get there?
• “Miss Hart.” Her voice is tight. “Are you clueless, or can you simply not follow directions?” This is the first time in weeks that I’m getting the stern tone from her.
• “I was in the library, and then—” I try to explain. “I got lost. I’m sorry.” I stop and catch my breath.
• “It’s been a little more than a month, and you’re already making trouble. I understand that this house is huge, bigger than you can imagine. What’s unacceptable is your disobedience of my number one rule.”
• “What did I do?”
• “The Master called me. He said someone was in his room.”
• Oh, gosh. Of course, it’s him. Who else could it have been?
• “You are the newbie here, so I believe it was you,” she continues. “Mr. Katrakis had high hopes of you and he’s never wrong, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
• “I understand...” I answer humbly.
• God, I don’t want to disappoint Oliver now. Our working relationship is doing so well. What would he think about me now? He even entrusted me access to the library; surely, none of the employees could go there freely.
• “I admit it, but like I said, I got lost! I will never deny my mistake, but I was hoping you would understand.”
• “I don’t like the way you answered me. Follow me,” she says with caution. She doesn’t seem to like anything I do. Maybe she doesn’t even like the fact that I’m breathing.
• “Um, where are we going?”
• “He wants to talk to the person who invaded his room. It’s also the first time an employee gets fired on her first month.”
• “What? What do you mean, fired? This is crazy! I didn’t mean to go into his room,” I insist guiltily while walking fast behind her. My thoughts hover to millions of ways to convince her not to take me to our boss. I have a bad feeling about this. I’m not actually ready to see him yet.
• But being ready wouldn’t matter to him. And, well, I’ve already seen him. Not all of him, just his back. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to see his face.
• However, the scene keeps playing in my mind. He is tall, with broad shoulders. His arms were spread wide, which made his triceps flex. He has ample legs that make me wonder how it would feel to be wrapped around them—
• I shut my eyes. I have completely lost my mind.
• “Miss Hart, it’s time that you finally meet him.” She spins around and finally faces me. “And just so you know, you don’t need to see him to be able to talk to him.”
• Uh, what?