Must Date The Chef

|| 26.

"What do you do?" I ask when I can't hold it in anymore. Pavillion pays its staff well but it doesn't explain how he can afford this decor without leaving a huge dent in his salary. The change in his house feels like an episode of flip it, a show where houses are renovated. Everything looks brand new.

Our staff work long hours which will leave most of them, especially Paul, the head chef, too exhausted to take on another job but here he is, in a house suited for royalty. The only thing missing is a fancy car and I have a strong suspicion it has more to with his need to be low-key than a lack of funds.

For God's sake, he said he didn't need the money that would be won from the cooking show and that's a lot of money to refuse for someone with his pay. What if he's a Yahoo boy, an internet fraudster? I shake my head, I have never seen him with a laptop and he never stays on his phone. He is more a people's person unlike me who spends long hours on her iPhone, exploring the pages of Instagram and posting sunkissed selfies.

Or, is that a ploy? What if the conversations are practise for his female victims? To help him pick his best lines since most of us are easily moved by praises and compliments.

Ifunaya, breathe.

"Do you have a laptop?" He nods and I try not to think too much about his reply. I have a laptop too but it doesn't mean I'm involved in cybercrimes. "Do you have another job?"

The tiles are cold against my palm as I turn on my side to get a better view of his face when he answers. With my head propped on one of the pillows Paul brought out, I eye his still form mimicking my position. He pushes himself up till his back is resting on the couch and stretches his hand to me.

"What's with all the questions?" he starts when I am sitting cross-legged in front of him. "I work for you, remember?" He pulls me in for a brief kiss. "There's barely any time left at the end of the day for me to get proper rest and you are talking about another job." His mirthless mocks me, I make a mental note to review their work hours. "No, I don't have another job. Why?"

"No reason. What about your laptop?"

"It's bad, someone is fixing it." The distance between us vanishes as he lifts me into his laps. My legs go on each side of his waist, I offer him a small smile. "What do you want us to do? Do you want us to see a movie?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." His lips reaching for mine stops, he palms my cheek to stare into my eyes and I let out a deep breath. "Okay. I'm just wondering how you can afford this," I point to the painting on the ceiling, that thing spells money, "on your salary."

Overthinking is one thing I am good at and maybe I am doing it right now but another glance at the ceiling increases my doubts. I forgot his explanation the moment they left his lips but the beautiful cherubs adorning his ceiling make every penny worth it and raises more questions. Why rent a three bedroom apartment if he lives alone? There are two empty rooms. I know my house has the same style but at least, I own the place.

"Is that it?" he asks and I nod. He chuckles, his fingers start trailing my lower lip, I frown and he chuckles again but I don't share in his humour. "I happen to know a lot of people with big money; my friends."

"Okay?"

"They helped out." His hand finds its way under my jaw, my lips part open when a finger migrates to my upper lip and I moan when he inserts it into my mouth. I suck on his thumb, eyes set on his as my tongue circles the tip of his finger. "My savings covered the rest. Any other question?"

Lacing our fingers, I place our hands above his head and grind my pelvis against his crotch. "No, but you need to introduce me to those your friends," I murmur. "I'm ready for an upgrade." I wink and we both laugh. "My friends won't do nothing for me."