“I know, I just... I feel guilty.”
“There isn’t any need to be.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I do.”
Alexander sighs. It wasn’t his intention to upset her. “What can I do to make this easier on you?”
“Let me pay you back.”
He shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“I can work for it.”
“Last I checked, you’re already one of my employees.”
Alexander’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes a quick glance and sees that it’s Sebastian.
Ugh, this guy again.
Sebastian: Any updates, my boy? I hope you’re not working too hard.
He can already feel a tension headache coming on. Can he not go one day without Sebastian checking in on him? That’s something he’s never appreciated about restaurant owners who aren’t chefs themselves. They treat it like a business. But cooking takes time and planning, trial and error. If Alexander could snap his fingers and have an entirely new menu in an instant, he would.
It’s just that he’s lacking inspiration. His senses have been dulled to the point where new ideas don’t come to him as easily anymore, if at all. What he truly needs is a fresh perspective on things to get him started.
An idea suddenly pops into Alexander’s head.
“Maybe there is something,” he mumbles.
“What is it?”
“I have a project. I’m trying to come up with a new menu and I’m... stuck. So, let’s make a deal. If you help me—”
“Yes,” she answers immediately. “Absolutely, yes. It’s the least I can do.”
Alexander nods. “Excellent. We’ll start tomorrow. Come in early like you usually do.”
“Sure.”
His eyes fall to her lips, and he swears it’s an accident. Or perhaps not. She’s only a foot away. All he’d have to do is dip down to kiss her, but he resists the urge.
No. Not a good idea.
“Thank you,” she says, earnest and sweet. “Seriously. Thank you, Alexander.”
He doesn’t know what to say. He likes the way she’s looking up at him, tilting her chin up so they have direct eye contact. Alexander takes a moment to admire her face, quietly noting how much he likes the lengthy curl of her lashes and the slope of her cute button nose.
“Don’t mention it,” he murmurs, so quiet that he barely hears himself.
* * *
“Woah,” Rina gasps. “These are beautiful, Eden.”
“Where’d you get them?” Freddie asks, gathering in close.
“Oh, um... They were a gift,” Eden says.
“Damn,” Peter says. “Whoever gave them to you has great taste.”
