How She Came Home

Chapter Seven

Becca didn't see Freen for the rest of the following work week, swamped with so much work that she barely had time to sleep before she was back at the office, the dinner with Michael on Monday night a success that had her pushing to close the deal by Friday.

It was going to be a big acquisition for the company, sinking in a fortune that would potentially double their profits with the schematics Becca had in place for their future technology.

In anticipation of closing the deal, she sent Freen a text inviting her to dinner at her house on Friday night, having Alice pick a recipe from one of the cookbooks Becca had her pick up but hadn't had time to crack open.

As busy as she was, she was still intent on cooking dinner herself, as disastrous as it undoubtedly would be, and was out of the office just before the masses clocked out, riding the elevator down alone, away from the stares and whispers that she knew had been circulating.

One of the tasks she gave Alice was to keep an ear out for office gossip, anxious to know if she was doing a good job at handling things in each sector.

The only time her name had passed lips recently amongst the lower level employees was to talk about the fleeting mention of Becca's dating life in the tabloids with a blurry photo of her and Freen on the kiss cam at the baseball game.

It wasn't the first time Becca had appeared in a magazine, occasionally stalked by the paparazzi when something big was happening at the company - although she didn't know why people were so invested in the life of a billionaire who barely qualified as a celebrity - but it was the first time in recent months that it had been without the slanderous comments that had dogged her steps for a while now.

It normally didn't bother her, but when Freen was involved, it made her chafe at the scrutiny and hoped it would die off soon. Pensive on her drive home, listening to the radio as she caught up with the news, Becca beat traffic hour and was flagging by the time she made it home, her eyes burning from too many late or sleepless nights.

Punching the espresso button on the coffee machine, she sipped from the little cup, hoping the caffeine would carry her through the dinner, before she made her way upstairs to shower.

Changing into a beige linen shirt and cream cropped jeans, Becca padded barefoot down to the kitchen and cracked open the cookbook to the page with the little sticky note Alice had placed there for her. It was a recipe for creamy herb chicken, reading relatively easy as Becca frowned, poring over the steps.

Everything had been ordered and delivered and Becca put the kitchen to use for the first time, the patio doors open to the warm afternoon as she boiled potatoes and dipped the chicken breasts in the onion and garlic powders and added them to the frying pan with oil.

Cooking them five minutes either side, as instructed, she set them aside and added garlic cloves with freshly picked parsley, thyme and rosemary before adding the cream. Stirring it until it was thick, Becca eyed the bubbling pan of sauce until the potatoes started boiling over and stole her attention.

Things only seemed to get progressively worse as she tried to juggle the cooking, her face flushed from the steam and the still air outside that only served to make the kitchen more humid, and by the time Freen knocked on the door at six o'clock, Becca was woefully unprepared.

Something definitely smelled like it was burning.

Wearing a pristine apron, Becca swore as she quickly put on her lipstick and fixed her hair before walking towards the door. Pulling it open with an uneven smile, she took in the sight of Freen, wearing a worn red and navy striped polo rugby shirt and holding a bouquet of flowers.