His Personal Chef

19

 I walk into the office with a bit of pep in my step. After that night in Helena's kitchen, she and I have been doing good—more than good. Fucking amazing. I took her on four dates last week, and we fucked every morning and night after she cooked for me. Everything feels great, and I look good too. I step off the elevator, and my smile wipes right off my face. I should have known that a storm is coming when everything is too good to be true. And said storm is standing in front of my office. Who the hell let her on my floor?

"Tristian." Antonella looks at me, smiling. I take in her appearance, and it seems like she is either leaving a photoshoot or going to one. She only wears a sweatpant outfit when it's photo day. "I didn't think you would be here so early." Early? It's nine in the morning. If anything, I'm late. My staff is here already working.

"Why? You trying to break into my office?" I chuckle. I move around her, opening the door.

"Not at all." She takes a seat on the couch, and I roll my eyes.

Dropping the nice act now that she and I are behind closed doors.

"Last time we talked, I told you to stay off my floor and out of my life. I know you're smarter than what you portray yourself to be. So, what the fuck are you doing here?" I sit behind my desk, keeping our distance as much as possible. Antonella was my best friend who wanted more and took advantage of a drunken me on a drunken night, and I will never forgive her for that. The pregnancy scare two years ago was enough to prove that she could no longer be trusted.

"I wanted to talk about your fiancée." She rolls her eyes. "I think you should reconsider."

"Reconsider?" I pull out my phone seeing a message from Helena. Ever since that night in her restaurant's kitchen and then a few nights later in my kitchen—she has taken a keen interest in food sex. My condo is now stocked in chocolate syrup, ice cream, and whip cream. Those are the three things I will make sure I never run out of. Helena sends me a picture that has me ready to go back home and devour the whipped cream off her breast. Another text comes through. Wanna lick it off?

"She's not right for you," Antonella says, and my eyes zone in on her face. "Your mother loves me and wants us together."

"That's where you are wrong. One, she isnt my mother." The fuck. It's like I have déjà vu all over again. Antonella would always tell me this once I started seeing someone who could have been more. Now that I don't see her as a best friend, I'm beginning to see all the red flags the guys had been telling me about. "Two, I love Helena and will spend the rest of my life with her, even though it's none of your business. I believe our conversation is over."

"Tristan, are you seriously still bothered about that night?" She rolls her eyes. "I said I was sorry. I thought you were coherent. You always joked with me like that before. It wasn't all my fault." Here she goes again, trying to justify her actions that night.

"It's in the past, Ant; just leave it. We will only agree to disagree again." I stand, moving to the door and opening it. "You need to leave—Helena? What are you doing here?" I look her up and down slowly, and I have a pretty good filing why I know she is here.

"Are you busy?" she shifts her weight from one foot to the next, holding a container in her hands. "I can wait in the lounge area. Some lady told me it was okay to sit there and wait."

"I'm not busy—"

"Tristan, who is it?" Antonella slides against me, and Helena tilts her head to the side.

Helena hums. "This is interesting."

She looks at Antonella as she walks into the office, making sure to subtly move Antonella further out the door. "Last I heard, you were just an ambassador for the company. Not sure what you would need from the IT floor."

Helena is good. She moves closer to Antonella, and she takes another step back—I see it all happening before my eyes. Taking another step closer, Antonella backs up more. Helena drops her voice to a whisper. "However, if you're trying to steal my man, let me stop you there. This pussy is too good for him to stray. You have a good day, love." She slams and locks the door in Antonella's face. There is a bang on the door before I hear Antonella shouting at someone to get out of her way.

Helena turns slowly, looking at me.

"I didn't know she was going to be here." I defend myself.

"No worries. Once you clear up what happened between the two of you, I'm not worried. Just don't let that shit happen again." She places the container on my desk.

I must say once Helena knows where she stands, she stands her ground. I never met a woman so confident as she is.

"So what brings you here? I thought you were back at my place." I pull her into my chest, nuzzling her neck. "I don't mind you being here either. I can only imagine what's underneath that trench coat. I wish I could lock you up and make lots of babies."

"Tristan, we talked about that already." She moans, gripping a handful of my hair.

"I'm going to hide the pills once you invite me over to your place," I tell her in all seriousness.

"And that's why you'll never come over," she chuckles, pushing at my chest. "I need to get going." She starts to laugh.

"Wait, you didn't come to have hot office sex?" I look down at her.

"No." her smile widens. "Did you think I was naked under this?" she opens her trench coat, and I see she is wearing a floral dress. "I'll be in the building today, but not for sex."

"Huh?"

"Mr. Tucker asked if I could step in for the head chef this week. I thought I told you."

"You didn't. What about your restaurant?" I ask. I don't want her to feel like she is neglecting her own duties. Being my chef is already taking time from her restaurant. I don't want her to add more onto her plate and then feel like she is being stretched thin. "I will talk to Chase; you shouldn't be doing this."

"Tristan, it's okay, babe. I told him I didn't mind, as far as my restaurant goes. Henry is doing just fine. I stopped by there before I came here. I remember you said you loved my restaurant's homestyle potatoes and turkey sausage, so I picked you up some. You didn't eat the breakfast I made this morning."

"But I did eat this morning." I wink, and she rolls her eyes. "I guess I'll leave you to it. I'll come down to the cafeteria later on. Maybe we can have dessert in that kitchen too."

Helena shakes her head, telling me no. She takes off her coat, places it over the couch, and puts her Chanel bag on the table, taking her phone out. "I'll see you at the end of my shift. Keep an eye out for my things. That's one of my favorite purses."

"I'll watch it like a hawk." I kiss her on the lips walking her back to the door. I escort her to the elevator and head back to my office to call Chase. I don't know what the hell he is playing at. When he picks up his phone, I ask him that very question, and he tells me nothing. He genuinely needed someone to fill in for Chef Tamara this week. He said Helena and I were still free to do as we pleased because he didn't have her sign a temp contract. Either Chase is trying to force Helena and me together or apart—I'm not sure which one it is yet.