Billionaire Ashton Brooks has a bad reputation that he just can't seem to shake. He's rude, spoiled, toys with women, and mocks anyone below him. He's never had to work hard for what he has, and he's not afraid to show it. But when his public image...
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A smile spread across my face every time I thought about how Ashton wanted to spend time with me last night. Then followed by burning embarrassment from my movie choice. Ashton didn't seem fazed in the slightest while I spent the entire movie imagining that was us. What's wrong with me?
"Woah," Rafael said, placing his hand over mine to stop the knife mid-motion. "You're about to slice off your finger. Everything good? Your face is like a rollercoaster of emotion."
"Sorry. Just a little distracted, I guess," I admitted.
"Do you want to stop for today?" He asked, taking the knife out of my hand.
I shook my head. "I still want to learn the basics, at least. I'm not sure how much time I have. Ashton said he's going to get me a job at his company soon."
Rafael gave me a disappointed frown then sighed. He didn't have to buy groceries today, so he was able to teach me the entire afternoon. I learned to boil, bake, sauté, and cut all kinds of things. Normally, Ashton only ate an entrée, but to speed up my learning, we made an entire three course meal. Although Rafael and Nami didn't speak to each other, he made sure to clean while cooking to reduce her workload.
By the time we were finished, I was glowing with pride. Although Rafael did the majority of the work, I was his little sous chef, providing help when needed.
"You're picking this up pretty fast. I think you can make your own food that'll taste almost as good as mine in a few days," he winked.
"How long before I'm better than you?" I teased. He bumped his shoulder against mine and flashed me a bright smile.
"We'll see. My shift is over. Hopefully, Brooks likes his meal." He took off his apron, placing it on a hook.
"Goodnight, Chef!" I said with a salute.
"Goodnight, Chef," he chuckled, waving goodbye while approaching the elevator.
I set the table again. This time, I tried to remember the right type of plates and forks to use. Almost like clockwork, the elevator dinged, and Ashton walked in. Butterflies filled my stomach as I watched him walk toward the table, his curious blue eyes resting on the spread in front of him.
He looked as delicious as the meal, his top three buttons open just to show a peek while the tightness of the shirt didn't leave much to the imagination. Strands of his hair fell over his forehead like their job was to frame his features perfectly. I had never met a man who looked so effortlessly attractive no matter what he did.
"What's all this?" He asked, breaking me out of my trance. I felt my cheeks flush. How long had I been staring?
"Rafael and I thought it would be nice to make a full meal today, so I helped," I said proudly. "First, we made a bruschetta with a reduced pomegranate balsamic drizzle, lemon shrimp orzo, and mini cheesecakes for dessert."
