What the hell is happening?
My apartment kitchen filled with the aroma of the sauce simmering gently. I liked these moments—the preparation, the ritual. There was a studied calm in cooking for someone. Especially for her.
Jordan Parker.
She's not the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, nor the most sophisticated. But she has… something. Maybe it's that innocent air, those cheeks that flush at the slightest glance… or the way she still seems to believe she doesn't know her own worth. Naïve. Tempting. Easy to read.
And lately, far too close to Chef Adam.
Day by day she seemed less like the clumsy intern who had stumbled in two weeks ago. Not that she'd stopped tripping over her own feet—that seemed inevitable with her. But something was shifting.
Chef Adam had started including her more. Small gestures, small orders. "Taste this.""Add that." She responded with confidence. Too much confidence for someone so new. And the strangest part? It wasn't just competence. It was… chemistry.
The worst was when he actually accepted a suggestion of hers for a sauce. She murmured a slight idea, he looked at her for a few seconds as if weighing it, then nodded. I gripped the panhandle harder than I should have. Took a deep breath. I can't let this get to me.
I'd seen her blush countless times whenever her eyes met his. And he didn't seem indifferent either—he'd let his gaze linger on her a beat too long.
What the hell was happening between those two?
I feel like I missed something. Some moment where things started shifting. Was it the filming, or something else? Next week I'd be part of the filming too. But it felt like I had to force that to happen.
He gets more irritable whenever I approach her, whenever I touch her. At first I didn't notice, but now the change in him is obvious. And I love provoking him. Today, before leaving, I made sure he knew Jordan and I would be having dinner together at my place. I saw her blush and glance at Adam. And I couldn't have been more pleased.
That was what made me crave this dinner even more. Just me and her.
I smiled, stirring the sauce slowly. The doorbell rang. My heart sped up with that sweet rush of anticipation.
One last glance at the table: linen napkins, glasses lined with precision, the bottle of wine already open, breathing exactly as planned. Soft music filled the background—not intrusive, just enough to break the silence. Everything calculated. Everything perfect.
This would be my moment. A pity a certain someone couldn't see me shine.
For a second, I imagined Adam's face if he could see his precious intern sitting at my table, smiling at me, blushing just for me. His jaw would clench, the way I'd seen so many times.
I drew a deep breath. Smiled and opened the door.
There she was. Dressed casually, but without glasses. Lately, she'd been wearing contacts for the filming. I liked seeing her like this—her eyes looked larger, brighter. It made her more attractive.
"Hi." I leaned slightly aside to let her in. "I see you came loaded." She was holding a small box.
"I brought dessert…" she said, almost blushing. "… as we agreed." I smiled. I loved how easily she blushed.
"I'm sure it'll be delicious."
She stepped in. I took the box from her hands and carried it to the kitchen, noticing the way her eyes roamed over the place. The sparkle of surprise was obvious.
"It's… beautiful," she murmured.
"Surprised?" I asked, amused. "Only the best for my special guest."
Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say more than just that simple compliment. Instead, she laughed nervously. That quick, light laugh I already knew so well. The kind she used whenever she didn't know how to react. And I knew exactly how to guide her from there.
"Sit down," I indicated. "I'm not done surprising you yet."
I brought out the starters and set them on the table. Poured her wine before sitting beside her.
I let our fingers brush deliberately when I handed her the glass. Saw the immediate blush on her cheeks. She looked away but didn't pull her hand back right away. Perfect.
The conversation started off ordinary, but inevitably slipped back to the restaurant… to Chef Adam. Even when I tried to change the subject, she circled back to him. She complained about him, sure, but admiration and respect slipped through between the lines.
Every time his name came up, I smiled inwardly. It was like a ghost at the table. But for me, it was just more fuel to win ground.
When I served the main dish, she praised it over and over. I couldn't have been more satisfied with her little murmurs of approval, each mmm sounding like victory.
"We have to do this again sometime," I told her, keeping my gaze locked on hers. "I liked cooking for you."
She blushed, smiling timidly, and I knew I had her exactly where I wanted.
"You should show this recipe to Chef Adam." I almost rolled my eyes, frustrated. Him again. Always him.
I smiled slowly, leaning a little further across the table.
"I have plenty of delicious recipes… some to impress Chef Adam." I let the pause hang in the air, before catching her gaze. "And others… just to impress you."
She bit her lip, not knowing how to respond. The innocent gesture ignited me more than it should have. She looked away, focusing on her plate, as if her fork could save her from the intensity of what I'd just said. I smiled. It was working.
I took the chance to refill her glass, leaning in more than necessary, letting my shoulder brush against hers. Small, calculated. I saw her catch her breath for a second. That short silence was worth more than any compliment.
"Funny… here, with you, everything feels simpler. Like nothing else matters," I said softly, almost a whisper.
She laughed nervously again, and I raised my glass in an improvised toast. "To new recipes… and new discoveries."
Her eyes met mine for a moment too long. And in that moment, I knew the distance between us was closing.