Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 10

The pan on the stove sizzles, the vegetables I'm sautéing sizzling and turning a perfect caramel color. The smell of handmade pasta lingers in the air, a mix of music playing in the kitchen as I turn away from the vegetables and start chopping some bay leaves into smaller pieces. Cooking helps relax me. I do it when I need to clear my mind. I like to brag and say that I'm pretty good at it.

I am. I'm very good.

The knife in my hand slices through pieces of cooked sausage that I had grilled a little while ago. The knife feels right in my hands. It's easy for me. Cooking has always been natural for my family. My brothers, Kingston, Mason, and the two twins, James and Julius started learning to cook when they were all two years old. So had I. Me and Kingston got the good cooking skills. The other three? Not so much.

What Isadora said days and days ago still repeats in my head. The way she said she can't cook. The first thing that came to mind was the fact that I could cook for her. The image of her sitting on my counter with my shirt on, her hair up in that same messy ponytail that she had her hair in on Tuesday, those beautiful ice blue eyes watching me cook for her. Getting her to laugh and smile.

It's too tempting.

To see her in my home. With me. With no tension between us. With no restrictions. No rules. No boyfriend.

That bastard is one hell of a lucky man—

My front door bursts open, "Sup fucker!" Jack's voice rings through my apartment walls and I groan. Stupid fucker always breaking into my apartment.

   I don't even know how he gets in. The security in this building is top notch.

   "Oooo," Jack hisses, "Smells like something burning." He states and my eyes snap over to the pan on the stove. "Shit." I curse, going over and turning the stove off, taking the pan off the burner.

   Jack kicks off his shoes and slams the door of my apartment closed and my eyes close with an annoyed groan. If I wouldn't have been thinking about Isadora then I wouldn't have burned my fucking dinner. Jack makes his way into my kitchen, leaning against the isle with a large bottle of unopened whiskey in his hand. "Need a drink?"

   "Fuck yes." I grunt, watching him open the expensive liquor.

   Once he finally gets the bottle open I grab some glasses from my cabinet and slide it across the marble countertops. Jack breaks out in a cheesy grin as he pours us both glasses of the whiskey.

   Jack pushes the glass back over to me and my fingers wrap around the cold glass, instantly bringing it up to my mouth and taking a good few swigs.

   "Something on your mind Dawn?" Jack presses, still grinning at me. I narrow my eyes at Jack, "I told you to stop fucking calling me that." My tone is deep and firm but Jack just shrugs and takes a sip of whiskey again.

My mind instantly wanders back to Isadora. The way her smile brightens my office, the way her black hair looks so soft and silky. What it would feel like on my hands as I run my fingers through her hair. What her skin would feel like on mine, all that beautiful gently tanned skin. Those piercing blue eyes on me, the blush in her cheeks. All mine.

   "Dawson?" Jack's voice rings through my ears and I blink, looking over at him with a blank expression. His lips slowly pull up into a smirk, taking a slow drink of whiskey from his glass.