Personal Chef

Chapter 32

Over the course of my period, I made a decision. I needed to see a doctor to talk about going on the pill. I'd done some research online and learned that there were several types of birth control pills out there that could give me shorter, lighter periods and that could reduce my cramps and bloating. The fact that it would be protecting me from pregnancy was an added bonus.

That Friday, I made an appointment for the following week with a gynecologist who Paige recommended.

I'd let Shawn pamper me on Thursday, but Friday and Saturday I got back to work. My ankle had healed enough that I could stand to help with Shawn's cooking lessons. It was ridiculously fun to work together in the kitchen. I was at my most relaxed when I was preparing food, and Shawn was uninhibited and goofy in the most endearing way. For example, he loved putting zucchini through the spiralizer to make zoodles. He'd made up a little song and would dance in place as he twisted the hand-held tool. I honestly hoped we'd eat them weekly just so that I could watch him sing and shake his butt to the zoodle song.

On Saturday night, Shawn and I were snuggled on the couch after dinner.

"I should go home," I said unenthusiastically.

"What? No!" he objected.

"My parents are probably freaking out a little that I've only spent one night at home over the last week and besides, tomorrow is my day off."

"Are you worried that they've figured out that we're having sex?"

"I think they'd be okay with that. They understand I'm an adult. It's more that I feel I should spend some time with them. I was gone for a month and I've hardly seen them at all since I got back."

"Why don't you stay over here and go see them tomorrow? But not because it's your day off. That's ridiculous at this point."

"In what way?" I asked, turning so that I could face him.

"You're my girlfriend. I don't think of you as my personal chef anymore."

My jaw dropped. "Are you firing me?"

"God no. I'm going to keep paying you. I just want things to loosen up. If we cook, we cook. If we take a day off, that's fine, too. You aren't bound to work a certain number of hours a week."

I chewed my bottom lip a second as I processed what he'd said.

"So what exactly are you paying me for?"

"You're still cooking, I'm just cooking with you. So I guess lessons? I'm paying you to teach me how to cook! How's that?" he asked.

"It feels like a made-up job so that you can keep paying me, because you are generous to a fault, instead of being honest with me that perhaps I'm not needed as a chef anymore."

"You think that because I've got this smoking hot girlfriend cooking with me each day that I no longer need a personal chef or a culinary instructor?" he asked with a chuckle.

"It depends on if I'm doing these things because I'm your girlfriend or because it's my job. If it's because we're dating, then you shouldn't be paying me," I explained.

"I'll tell you what," he started. "Since Andrew is coming to town on Monday, we can sit down over dinner to discuss this with him. Cool?"

"Okay, and can I just say that I'm super excited to cook for him again?"

Shawn shook his head. "We'll go out. There no need for you to bust that sweet ass in the kitchen all day for Andrew."

"If you're still paying me then there's every reason for me to cook! Besides, it will make me happy. You want to make me happy, right?" I asked, batting my eyelashes.