Must Date The Chef

|| 32.

"Time's up loverboy. Get your father to step down and the lady is all yours. Tick tock, tick tock," Mike says into the phone. I don't get a chance to input another word before he ends the call and walks off to his seat.

I gulp and wipe the tears streaming down my cheeks, still dazed from hearing Paul's voice. Mr Adams too. They are coming to get me. I try to focus on that, Paul's promise of shawarma and a sad smile flits to my lips, I chuckle, I will be fine, they promised. All I have to do is stay positive, help will be here soonest. Paul is trying to make amends so he won't lie to me again, Mr Adams also has connections, they can get me out of here.

A tear leaks out of my eye, I sniff and swipe the back of my hand against my cheek. No crying, I will be alright. I have to stay strong for them. On cue, my eyes well with more tears which trail down my face, soon enough I am sobbing into my palms. I want to go home. I don't care that Paul or Chi lied to me, I want this to be over, I am tired.

My shoulders tremble as sobs rack my body, I wrap my arms around myself and refuse to look up when Mike's feet appear in front of me. How can they make such a request? His father doesn't even know me, why should he step down? Why can't they play their dirty politics without involving me? I sigh. My head is still reeling from the information dump, my boyfriend, the chef is the son of the Governor of my state, how?

"Please," I say with my eyes on the carpet and sniff. My hands run up and down my knees, I try to switch to a better position but my legs are still tied. Mike was kind enough to uncuff my hand but not my legs. "Please, let me go. I promise I won't go to the police."

Seconds crawl into more seconds of his prolonged silence, I lift my eyes to his face, unashamed of the tears streaming down my cheeks. I want to go home. "Mike. I don't even know what you look like. Please, for the love of God. You don't have to do this."

His green eyes soften, he crouches in front of me and my heart nearly bursts with joy thinking he wants to untie me. I release a shaky breath, my chest rising and falling in anticipation of my freedom. God will bless him. I don't care how bad they treated me, I am done. I won't follow this case up, I just want to resume my normal life. Instead, he places his hands on both sides of the chair, keeping me captive and my eyes widen.

I try to keep still as his hot breath fans my face. He is close, too close for comfort and I want nothing more than to wrap my weak hands around his neck so he can experience the feeling of helplessness I did earlier. The thought vanishes as soon as it pops into my head, my only job is to stay alive until Paul comes to save me. He better hurry, I don't know how much longer I can hold on.

"If life gives you lemons," he starts in a chipped voice, "you make lemonade. If life gives you tea, you sip it." My muscles tense. Unlike the feeling of comfort that enveloped me when Mr Adams said it, hearing Mike say the same words my daddy used to cheer me up angers me. He has no right to utter those words. "Where did you hear that?"

I scoff and dry my cheeks, I will not taint my father's beautiful memory by discussing him with a criminal. "Nowhere."

Rising to his feet, he reaches behind him for something and I swallow at the sight of the gun he pulls out. "I won't repeat myself."

The shock of seeing a weapon up close has my tongue tied, I stare at the barrel of the gun and my mind goes blank as tears pour out of my eyes. God. I don't want to die. The words are stuck in my throat, the answer to his question is ready but I have trouble voicing it out. Mike waves his gun in front of my face and panic sets in, my breathing becomes ragged, I start jerking. My heart picks up speed, there is a tightness in my chest as I try to force myself to breathe but it feels like my head is held underwater.