Personal Chef

Chapter 5

I arrived on Saturday with a big box of supplies. The things we'd ordered would not be delivered until Tuesday, so I had to bring my cooking tools again. I wasn't about to make two trips from my car to his condo, so I crammed it all into a huge cardboard box. By the time I got to the door, my arms were killing me.

"Jesus, Chelsea," Shawn said as he watched me stagger in. He grabbed the box. "Why didn't you call or text me to come get this stuff?"

"I work for you, remember?" I said.

"I actually try not to think about that aspect of this arrangement," he said as he set the box on the counter. "It's kind of weird. I'm the same way with some other people who are on my payroll. I don't like to think about how they are paid to make music or go on tour with me. I prefer to pretend we're all just friends hanging out."

I started pulling things out of the box. "So I'm your friend who really enjoys cooking your meals almost every day?"

"It sounds crazy when you say it like that," he said with a chuckle.

"Just so you know, my mindset is the polar opposite. I believe firmly in having solely a professional relationship."

I looked at him and saw that he had a dejected expression on his face. Surely he didn't really want us to become friends. That was just weird. I was his employee.

"Point taken," he said in a clipped tone.

"I didn't mean we can't be friendly when I'm here," I said, feeling bad about how I'd phrased things. "But this is a business arrangement."

"I get it. Really. It's cool."

I sighed. I'd obviously insulted my boss.

"I'm going to start your lunch. After you eat, we can make the potatoes au gratin."

Shawn nodded and left the room.

I got everything organized. I was somewhat compulsive about my kitchen. I had to get everything out before starting a recipe.

It took about twenty minutes to whip up a favorite recipe of mine. It was a Thai chicken noodle recipe that I'd swapped out zucchini noodles for real noodles. It had a spicy peanut sauce.

Shawn usually appeared right before lunch was ready, since typically I had it done at noon. I was finished a few minutes early. Not wanting the food to get cold, I wandered down the hall to find him. I figured he'd be in his studio, but he wasn't. His bedroom door was open, and I saw he was lying on his bed with headphones in, his eyes closed. I knocked on the door frame to get his attention but he didn't budge. I was about to turn around and go back to the kitchen to wait when his eyes opened. He saw me and his eyes got wider. He pulled off his headphones.

"You just schooled me on maintaining a professional relationship, and now you're walking in on me while I'm in my bed. Kind of crosses that line that you drew, don't you think?"

I gulped. It did look bad that I'd gone to his bedroom. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that lunch is ready."

I turned and left. He was right behind me, and he sat at the counter where his meal was waiting for him.

"What's this?" he asked.

"They are called zoodles, as in zucchini noodles."

He took a forkful and looked at it before putting it in his mouth. I watched as he chewed.

"Much better than I was expecting," he said. He then got out his phone and took a picture. I guess we were back to that.

I made a batch of banana muffins while he ate. When he was done, I cleaned up and got everything out for the potatoes.