Kitchen Affairs Part 2

"Stella, let's go honey!" We left and practically ran to a cab. Of all days to be late and without my wallet! Good thing I had a secret stash of cash lying around the house for emergencies.

"Welcome, Miss Woods. Glad to see your finally joining us today," Mr. Cooper scolded looking p.i.s.sed. I was fifteen minutes late and as much as I tried to sneak into the kitchen; I was busted.

"I apologize Mr. Cooper. It won't happen again."

"Are you okay?" Blakely turned around with a puzzled look.

"Yeah, just ran late. I lost my wallet," I pouted.

"I saw Mr. Stagliano leaving the tavern right after you left. Looked like he was up to something," Blakely commented, changing the subject as we gathered in our groups for another cooking project. Today we were focusing on bases and soups.

"Really?" I asked, pretending not to notice. I didn't know if mentioning him to her was a big deal or not. I figured she'd hound me and ask a million questions. I didn't need to be distracted today since I was already late for cla.s.s.

"Okay, so let's start with the vegetable minestrone and tomato lavender base," Brad proposed. We chatted for the next several hours getting our soups and bases prepared. Interning was grunt work. We had to do all the c.r.a.ppy jobs that the chefs didn't feel like doing. We have to learn anyways, but I was ready to move on to more challenging tasks, start entrees, and gourmet meals. I hoped to run my own kitchen someday. Maybe my own restaurant.

Before Liam and I found out we were expecting, I worked at a local restaurant in town where I cooked, and Liam bussed. We were trying to save money to move into our own place. I would pretend that I was the executive chef and present the food in a special way with garnishes and drizzles on the plates. After having that job, I knew that was what I wanted to do. Cooking gave me a sense of accomplishment that I desired after my parent's divorce. They were tied up in who got what that I felt invisible most of the time.

"I'm just going to place this in the freezer guys. Be right back," I announced with my hands full walking the other way. I shuffled some containers around to make room and aimed for the door when I suddenly noticed something shiny in the corner of my eye.

No f.u.c.king way.

There lying on a rack next to full containers of condiments was my Coach wallet nicely folded with a note on top.

You left this in the cab last night. Figured you would need it. However, if you want the remainder of the contents you must meet me for dinner first. Pick you up at 8pm tomorrow night. -D.S.

You are f.u.c.king kidding me. He was holding my credit cards hostage. Un-f.u.c.king-believable. What nerve.

I grabbed my wallet and rushed out of the freezer sprinting right past my group. I figured now was a good of time as any to take a break and head right to Mr. Stagliano's office myself.

Yeah, and demand my stuff back! Or maybe, I just wanted to see that s.e.xy smile again.

I took the elevator up to his office and walked to his receptionist's office. "I need to speak with Mr. Stagliano, Drake Stagliano, please," I insisted.

I'm going to show him whose boss!

I was determined to get my belongings back, however; I suddenly felt very nervous to see him again.

"Do you have an appointment, Miss?" his receptionist queried, surprised by my authority.

"Molly Woods," I continued for her. "No, I don't, but Drake, I mean, Mr. Stagliano has something of mine, and I want it back," I fumed, keeping my stance. She didn't glance up at me as she turned to her phone and dialed. After a moment, she hung up and escorted me into Drake's office.

"He'll be right in Miss Woods." The receptionist motioned me to take a seat at his desk as she shut the door. His office was the size of my entire apartment. It was the ideal bachelor pad, although I'm sure he didn't live here, it was just ridiculous that an office had to be so stunning. Televisions, chairs, couches, mini bar... Hmm... couches?

I jumped as the door opened, startled by my own thoughts wondering. Drake walked in with a huge grin on his face showing off his perfect white teeth. I stared at him for a moment before I realized I needed to be p.i.s.sed off. Was I p.i.s.sed off? Yes! Yes, you are dammit!

"Miss Woods, what a surprise!" he beamed as he walked towards me. His half smile totally read that in fact, he was not surprised at all. He was wearing a black three-piece suit with a silver vest and tie. d.a.m.n, he looks good. He came around to his desk sitting down nonchalantly like he had no idea why I would be there. In his office... Dammit, why must he be so dreamy?

"Molly," I announced, hoping he'd finally get the hint. "Mr. Stagliano," I tried to continue, but were sidetracked as his eyes pealed me away from the conversation. "It appears you have something of mine. I want it back," I demanded. He was still smirking at me as if something was funny that I wasn't getting.

"Miss Woods," he turned his chair to look directly in my eyes. "I mean, Molly," he heckled. "I will graciously give you whatever you want, but not until tomorrow night. 8pm."

Wow, he is full of himself...

"And if I don't go?" I questioned, knowing the answer already.

He shrugged as if he didn't believe my hesitation, "I guess you go without." Jacka.s.s.

"Fine," I caved and sneered at him. "What should I wear?"

"A c.o.c.ktail dress will suffice," he answered with authority. "8pm. Don't keep me waiting." He started to stand up as to usher me to the door. d.a.m.n him.

I hesitated to stand up when he did, because I was shocked at his bluntness. Instead of ushering me out the door, he sat casually on the corner of his desk staring at me.

"Why dinner?" And why with me?

"You stated we didn't know each other, Miss Woods. I want to change that," he said looking directly into my eyes.

"Alright then, Mr. Stagliano. Guess I'll see you tomorrow night then." I stood up and headed for the door. Drake stood up and ushered me to the door. He gently placed his hand around my waist guiding me through the door. I trembled as he hand met my bare skin.

Holy s.h.i.t...

"Until tomorrow night, Molly," he whispered in my ear as I was leaving. I shivered as his lips brushed close to me and walked out.

f.u.c.k.

CHAPTER THREE.

"So who's the lucky guy?" Michael grinned as he me watched me get dressed.

"I'd rather not say."

G.o.d I hope this dress is s.e.xy enough. Do I want it to be s.e.xy? Ugh, shut up Molly.

"Oh. My. G.o.d. Don't tell me... Drake?" Michael inched closer to examine my dress. I rolled my eyes at him and he definitely knew. "Drake. Thee Drake Stagliano?"

"Yes. He's making me have dinner with him in order to get the contents of my wallet. b.a.s.t.a.r.d," I replied as I put my stilettos on and grab some earrings. If I was going to be forced to eat dinner with this man, he may as well be tortured by looking at me knowing he can't ever have me.

"Genius. He must have it bad," Michael said raising his eyebrows at me. Too bad, I wasn't looking for anything. Not even something casual. Or was I? Perhaps I have just told myself enough times that I started to believe it.

"Yeah well, it's the first and last time. I need to focus on pa.s.sing my internship, graduating, and getting a job," I snapped as I grabbed my coat and purse. 7:50 PM. He'll be here any minute now. s.h.i.t.

"Here let me help," Michael said, taking my coat. He pecked me on the cheek and slapped my a.s.s. "Go get'em girl!" Yuck.

I took the elevator down to the lobby and fidgeted with my keys until I saw a limo pull up outside my building. c.r.a.p, a limo? I watched as the driver came around and opened the door for Drake. He re-b.u.t.toned his suit and walked to the entrance. I casually stood there waiting, uneager to go through with this date.

"Molly? I was planning to fetch you at your apartment," Drake said as he approached me never taking his eyes off me.

d.a.m.n, those eyes are a-mazing.

"Well, then I guess I saved you a trip, Mr. Stagliano," I grinned, knowing exactly what he meant. This was not a date. I don't need to be 'fetched'.

"Always a delight," he smirked, opening his arm up for me. "And please, you can call me Drake."

I could sense his humor in the whole situation. I would have never agreed to dinner had he not kept my things captive. He escorted me to the limo while his driver opened the door for us. I got in and immediately went to the far side hoping to keep some safe distance between us.

"Would you like some champagne?" Drake asked, as the limo started moving.

No. "Yes, please." I shouldn't be drinking around him, but what the h.e.l.l. "Where are we going?" I asked, trying to keep it casual.

"My place," he said sternly letting me know it was not an open discussion. He turned away to fill my gla.s.s. "I have something special set up for you," he smiled as he turned to look back at me. Great. Something special? I felt like I had missed the memo. Since when was this a date?

We arrive to his River North Penthouse and although the limo ride wasn't completely awkward, this was a little bizarre. I haven't been on a date in years, but taking me to his place right away? That seemed weird. His home wasn't anything like I expected. Drake is intimidating and powerful, but his home felt warm and comfortable. He offered me a tour after taking my coat and I was too curious to not accept the offer. Wow, this man does have a warm side.

He showed me through the foyer into the sleek, elegant kitchen. It was suitable for a one-person home and was surprisingly not, what I had expected. The refrigerator blended in with the red, shiny cabinets with thin, silver handles. It was definitely top-notch; I was afraid to even touch it. The dark lower cabinets blended well with the cherry wood flooring and the center island. There was a small, white breakfast bar with white, contemporary chairs that seated four. I was especially jealous of the double ovens in the middle of the red cabinets. This was definitely a kitchen I would die to have.

Drake watched my expression as I took in the phenomenal view. He knew being a chef intern that this kitchen would warm me up. "This is beautiful," I remarked as I caught him staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

More like breathtaking. Just like him.

"I knew you'd appreciate it." He smiled as he took my hand to continue the tour. An open floor plan went directly from the kitchen to the dining area to the living room. It was warm, inviting, and elegant. The gray walls blended well from room to room allowing the Chicago view in through the windows. I noticed a large painting by the living room table that accented the room just perfect. Whoever his interior decorator was deserved a raise.

"Your home is amazing. It's beautiful. Especially this view," I gushed as I walked towards the floor to ceiling windows.

Wow, I could stare at this all day at him, and this view, that is.

"I'm glad you approve." He smiled as he walked toward me and held out his hand for mine. "What I have planned for us this evening is up those stairs," he said motioning to the other side of the kitchen where a slender, modern staircase leads up to the next floor.

Upstairs? I don't think so.

I shot him a puzzling look, but reluctantly took his hand in mine. We walked up to the next floor and went through a door. A beautiful side balcony overlooked the Chicago Skyline. Above us were stars shining down and the reflection of the city lights. It was the most peaceful and serene view I've ever seen.

He set up a romantic dinner setting for two. Although I felt awkward being here with him, the view made it all worth it. In the corner was a stone fireplace that was already lit and hearing those fire cracking noises made me suddenly at ease.

A waiter arrived minutes later bringing our dinner. Drake approached me from behind with two gla.s.ses, "Champagne?"

"Please." I took the gla.s.s from his hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

G.o.d, he has beautiful eyes.

He grabbed my empty hand and led me to the table. He pulled my chair out for me, and as I took a seat, I noticed our eyes were locked on each other. It was like we were the only people in the world and nothing else mattered in that very moment. I could stare at him all day. s.h.i.t Molly, get it together.

"Are you nervous?" Drake asked as I was caught rubbing my ear.

"A little. Nervous habit," I replied, as I was now fully aware of my known nervous tick. He looked so calm, which made me even more nervous considering I hardly knew this man. I wanted to think of something to say; to motivate a conversation, but all I could think about was his beautiful lips. And eyes. d.a.m.n those eyes.

"This looks delicious," I beamed as our meal was being served. He accidentally graced my hand as he was reaching for his gla.s.s. The slightest touch of him and I could feel b.u.t.terflies and goose b.u.mps. It was an innocent touch, but in that moment, I finally realized I could have feelings for someone else besides Liam. I'm not ready for this. Am I? Scared at the realization that I could have feelings for anyone other than Stella's father, made me think I was possibly ready to move on.

But could I accept that?

Dinner was excellent as we managed to make light conversation in the process. He asked me simple questions about school and my internship. I wasn't sure what or if I should ask him any questions; although I was getting more and more anxious to know this man better.

He stared at me like he was seeing right through me. I was starting to see another side to this man; a man I think I could really liked. Maybe love. He was being kind, sweet, responsive to my answers, and seemed to have a keen interest in me. It was overwhelming. I barely knew this man, yet I was ready to dig my teeth into him.

The waiter returned promptly as we finished dinner, and returned with dessert. Mmmm... dessert. Can he be my dessert? We were served Red Velvet Cheesecake. It was amazing. He stared at me the entire time as I was enjoying every single bite. Why does he keep staring?

"Your enjoyment of food is extremely appealing," he expressed as he continued watching me.

"I know amazing food when I taste it," I said smiling in between bites. This was too good to not enjoy. Even when he stares at me like that. He bit his lower lip and it almost sent me over the edge. I haven't had a serious relationship or even dated for that matter in years, but this man, in this moment, was making me forget all of that.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked noticing he hadn't touched his dessert yet.

"I'm enjoying watching you at the moment." He smirked making me feel uneasy. Please just eat and stop looking at me.

"Well... if you aren't going to eat it, I will," I replied playfully. I was a girl who enjoyed eating; especially dessert.

He chuckled in amus.e.m.e.nt and finally dug into his cheesecake. I could watch that man eat all day long. He acted with such grace, yet he remained powerful. I could eat him for dessert right now.... Oh my G.o.d, Molly, snap out of it.

"So tell me, Drake..." I slowed my words as I prepared what to say. "Why was it so important to have dinner with me tonight?" I really did want to know, but I wanted to keep the conversation going before I started to undress him with my eyes.

"Well, to be honest, I saw you across the room at your internship orientation dinner. You wore a dark red V-neck dress with black strappy heels and you had your hair down in waves that just brushed behind your shoulders. You were holding a drink, talking to some other people and in that moment, you looked so beautiful and happy. I knew right then that I needed to know you. Your smile... and your lips..." he responded sincerely. I was shocked at his honesty. My lips?

"Why didn't you approach me that night then?" I asked curiously.

"Because I didn't want to make it a public affair," he responded quickly as if he'd already been prepared for that question. "But I couldn't stop watching you."

"Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?" I can't believe I just said that, holy s.h.i.t.

He smiled as if he knew his exact answer. "Get to know you."

"Did you ever consider that maybe I didn't want you to know me?"

"I was hoping my wit and charm would make you feel different," he bantered. He knew what he was doing... d.a.m.n, his charm.

"That doesn't mean I trust you."

"Decent point. What is it that you don't trust?" he asked, though I'm sure he knew.

"For starters, you have a reputation. And not a good one," I remarked hoping he didn't ask me to explain.

"Really? Enlighten me. What's my reputation?" His brows lowered at the accusation.