It is bad enough that talking to Brandon makes me feel anxious. It doesn’t help that every time I leave his room, I feel as though I’m battling against unfamiliar feelings.
But I don’t like to share...His voice echoes inside my head while I try to understand what he meant. He is not sharing somethingI must’ve been walking so absorbedly that I don’t notice anyone or anything on the way.
“Alayna!”
I jerk as I hear my name. Ms. Lennie is only a foot away, looking at me with a frown.
“Are you okay?” Ms. Lennie asks, moving closer in my direction.
“Yes, of course, Ms. Lennie. I’m sorry, I was just trying to think of what to do for my rest day.” If there’s something I’ve gotten pretty good at since I arrived here, it’s making excuses and explaining away my behavior.
She nods, looking unconvinced. “Mr. Katrakis is waiting for you in your kitchen.”
“I’ve got to go, Ms. Lennie. Sorry,” I say in a hurry.
“Alayna? Alayna!” I can hear her calling me as I march away, fast. I all but run to my kitchen and find Oliver at my station. He springs up from his seat as soon as he sees me.
“Alayna? What’s wrong?” he asks curiously. God, how I wish there were no hidden cameras in my kitchen! Of course, that’s just wishful thinking. I’m still glad these cameras don’t record sound.
“I’m fine. I ran because Ms. Lennie said that you were here. Do you need anything?”
His left eyebrow shoots up. “I don’t think you’re running because of me.” He smirks and crosses his arms across his chest. “Spill the beans.”
I puff. “Nothing.”
I shouldn’t bother Oliver about it. Maybe what he said is he doesn’t like sharing me with another employer? Wait. Or maybe he doesn’t want his cousin lingering around me in my workplace since I’m his private chef now? Or maybe he doesn’t want me sharing the workload with his cousin anymore?
“You seem preoccupied,” he observes.
“I’m just amazed that he finally allowed me to go into his room without getting mad.”
His expression brightens. “Oh, I keep telling you he’s a good man. I guess he’s getting used to having you around. He’s starting to trust someone again.”
I answer with a smile, though inside, I’m slightly stunned by Oliver’s openness. Of course, he’s always been open, but what he just said has made me think of some other reason why his cousin might not be coming out of his room. He may just have a strange way of coping with his heartbreaking past.
My work routine goes on without incident in the next couple of days, and I’ve not spoken to Brandon since our last conversation. He doesn’t speak to me whenever I enter his room to bring his food. There are also times Oliver wants to deliver it so I can have some extra rest. He’s always considerate.
In the kitchen, when I’m finished cooking the boss’s meal, I try out new recipes from Oliver’s booklet. There are other dishes here that I find hard to recreate because I can’t seem to get the exact authentic taste.
In university, I needed a full week of concentration before getting a dish perfect, especially if it involved meats. I remember being in a school camp in the Wisconsin mountains, where bear meat was popular. It was difficult to cook. Luckily, the list of dishes isn’t as hard as the dishes in my culinary classes back then.
From what I’ve learned from Oliver about Greek cuisine, dishes with feta and oregano aren’t always GreekRight now, I’m making tempeh gyrossaganakiSpeaking of Ollie, he finds me in the afternoon at my station. It’s usually the time when he comes from the office.
“Hey, that looks good.” He stares at the platters in front of me.
“I’d like you to try this,” I say, offering him a bite.
He picks a piece of the roasted cheese, then nods. “It’s good, but something’s missing.”
I blink. “What do you think it is?”
He looks at me. “Lemon.”
“Oh, of course. The final touch.” I’m supposed to put it on before putting it in the oven. “I’m making this again.”
“Alayna, can I ask you a small favor?” Ollie asks me suddenly.
“Of course.” I grin at him. “What is it?”
“You know some Nihongo too, right? I finally saw your profile and you speak four foreign languages.”
I smile. “Sure! What can I help you with?”
“My fiancée’s mother is coming next week from Tokyo, and she texted me in Japanese characters about planning a birthday surprise for my girl. I ran the text through a translation app, but she’s not very good at English, so I don’t know how to reply,” he explains.
I’m stunned at what he is saying for a moment. “Wait. You’re engaged?”
He laughs. “I guess I never mentioned it. Yes, I am, Alayna; but we wish to keep it private for now.”
“Wow!” I beam. “Congratulations, Ollie. How long have you been engaged?”
“Betty and I have been in a relationship for a year. I proposed to her two months ago. Brandon doesn’t know yet, but I will tell him eventually.”
“I’d be glad to help you reply to your future mother-in-law. Can you show me the text?”
“Oh.” He slips his hand into his pocket. “Of course.”
I continue to make another dish with the ingredients in the prep area while Oliver is scrolling through his inbox. Then he shows me a message from a person called Mrs. Davis about the upcoming birthday of her daughter Beatrice in two weeks. He says that his fiancée is half-American, half-Japanese, and she grew up in Tokyo before her family moved to New York a few years ago.
Oliver wants to take them to the theater because Betty is fond of classical music and theatrical plays. He hands me his phone so I can type a message on the screen.
I type what Oliver is saying but in Japanese characters, acting as his interpreter. I remind him that I’m not very fluent in Nihongo, so there might be typos in my texts. He assures me not to worry and tells me that I’ve actually helped him a lot.
“But don’t you think she’ll know that it isn’t you who texted this?” I ask.
He scratches his head again shyly. “I’ll tell her a friend helped me.”
I give him his phone back. “Let me know if she replies or if you need help responding again.”
He smiles. “Thank you, Alayna. I know I can count on you.”
“You’ve helped me a lot around here.” I smile back encouragingly. “I’m just returning the kindness.”
To my surprise, Oliver gently touches the top of my head—a simple gesture that only my father ever did whenever he was praising me. My heart aches a little at that memory, but I feel delighted at the same time; I’m reminded again of that feeling.
In the evening, I’m alone again in the kitchen preparing for dinner, and after I’m done, I go into his room.
“Master, I’m coming in.” I step inside. I push the trolley to the table and find him fast asleep on the couch in front of the unlit fireplace with a laptop on his chest. Poor man, even in his sleep, he still wears the mask.
Not wanting to make any noise, I carefully place the food on the center table, but he must have felt my presence. He groans and emphatically opens his eyes.
“Alayna,” he says and sits up. “How long have you been here?”
“I just got in. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
“It’s all right. I was expecting you.”
I smile a little at his remark and continue setting the table.
I’m about to get the pitcher of water when he abruptly grabs my hand and pulls me, dragging me to his side.
I gasp in surprise. “What are you—”
He slides his arm over my waist and pulls me close. My heartbeat quickens, and my breath comes with a hitch. I can feel his breath on my ears, and that instantly makes me shiver.
I try to jerk away, but he pulls me back against him. My hands land on his lap, I unintentionally touch him. And, damn... He’s hard.
I squirm against his thighs. “Oh my God!”
“I can make an exception,” he whispers in my ear. Tiny bolts of electricity flow from my head down to my core. “Don’t move,” he orders.
“W-What exception?” I try not to breathe in his scent, but it is no use. He smells so good... so manly. It warms up my senses.
“Exception to take the shit out of you for flirting with Oliver.”
“I am not flirting with Oliver!” I retort. What is he talking about? “We’ve done nothing but talk since I got here.”
“But I notice you’re getting closer to him. I told you I don’t share.”
I gasp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I want youEvery hair on my body rises. I’m not sure if I’m hearing things now or am just delusional. “Let me go, please. This is wrong!”
His eyes gleam. “It feels right to me.”