Chapter 3

Fortunately, Atlas' reflexes proved swifter than the airborne carrots. He effortlessly snatched them out of the air with a single, deft hand. In a matter of minutes, their shopping cart had become laden with groceries, a testament to their efficiency.

"Are you finished, Ms. Heather?" Atlas inquired.

"Yes, let's head to the checkout and pay," Heather replied.

Atlas promptly guided their cart toward the checkout lanes. He kept an eye on the time, mindful that his employer might be growing hungry or impatient. It was crucial for him to demonstrate his competence, securing his newfound employment.

"Thank goodness the lines aren't too long," Atlas remarked as they exited the mall, the cart of groceries a testament to their successful mission.

As they reached the parking area, Heather inquired, "Is your workplace nearby?" Her question held a note of earnest curiosity as Atlas loaded the groceries into the car's backseat.

"Yes, it's quite close. You won't have to worry about motion sickness or feeling nauseous," Atlas playfully quipped, earning himself a light shoulder slap from Heather.

"Tsk, as if!" Heather retorted, rolling her eyes at Atlas. She appreciated his polite gesture of holding the car door open for her as she settled into the passenger seat.

With everyone aboard, Atlas took his place behind the wheel. Without further ado, he steered the car away from the mall, dictating the speed as he saw fit, the engine's purring a quiet backdrop to their ride.

"Are you always this fast when you drive?" Heather asked, only now fastening her seatbelt.

"Fast? Do you think so?" Atlas inquired, seemingly unfazed by the question.

With their journey feeling like a high-speed race, Heather sat in silence, her lips sealed, while Atlas seemed to be in his element, singing along with the music emanating from the speakers.

"We're here," he announced abruptly, slamming on the brakes, which took Heather by surprise. Fortunately, she was still wearing her seatbelt.

They exited the car, and Heather patiently waited for Atlas to retrieve the groceries.

"Wow, your employer must be rich, huh? Glad he hired you."

"Why wouldn't he? I look trustworthy, right?"

"Looks can be deceiving."

Atlas accompanied Heather to the kitchen, where they began their preparations. He watched in awe as she effortlessly cooked. He didn't do much except marvel at her culinary skills. When everything was ready, and they were about to sit down to eat, Heather received a phone call.

"I have to go, Atlas."

"Lucky thing you finished; you're amazing! Thank you, by the way. Um, can I ask for a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Can I have your number? In case I need help—"

"Sh-shh..." Heather took Atlas' phone, which he was just handing to her, and swiftly typed something. Then she returned the phone, giving it a playful tap against Atlas' chest. "Here."

"Bye!" Atlas said, waving to her, but Heather didn't acknowledge him. She waved back, though she didn't face him and continued walking.

"Thanks again!" Atlas called out as a parting shot, but he received no response from Heather. Nonetheless, he waved goodbye, grateful for the assistance she had provided.

Atlas raced up the staircase, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air as he mentally reviewed the meticulous preparations he had made.

"Sir Connor, it's time to eat," he announced, knocking on the grand door to his employer's bedroom.

"Okay," came the reply from behind the closed door.

Descending to the lavish dining area, Atlas was greeted by the sight of Mr. Connor already seated, poised to take his first delectable bite. It was a moment laden with significance, a culinary crossroads that would determine Atlas' fate. The tension hung palpably in the room as he couldn't help but wrestle with his nerves. What if this culinary endeavor failed to meet his employer's discerning palate? Would Atlas' aspirations crumble, leaving nothing but the bitter taste of defeat?

"Atlas! These dishes are nothing short of extraordinary! How did you conjure such culinary magic? I was under the impression that you couldn't cook. Please, do join me," Mr. Connor exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm, catching Atlas off guard. It was a scenario he had not foreseen.

"Oh, no, Sir. I wouldn't want to intrude," Atlas replied, his hesitation evident.

"Nonsense! Join me so we can savor this splendid meal together. You should consider gracing my table with your culinary talents every day!" Mr. Connor insisted, his appreciation evident in every bite.

Nightfall had cast its dark cloak, yet sleep eluded Atlas. His mind raced with thoughts of the dishes he would prepare on the morrow. Amidst the whirlwind of ideas and uncertainty, he decided to reach out to Heather.

"I was pondering if you could tutor me in the art of cooking. We could make it a side gig, and I'll compensate you once I receive my salary," Atlas proposed.

"Of course," Heather agreed.

"Wow," Atlas marveled.

"Alright, drop me a text tomorrow. I'm quite sleepy at the moment," Heather replied.

"Okay," Atlas acquiesced.

The following morning, Connor dropped Atlas off at his workplace. He casually mentioned that his morning routine usually consisted of coffee and a simple piece of bread.

"Is this the place, Sir?" Atlas inquired as the car came to a halt, verifying their location through the trusty guidance of G****e Maps.

"Yes, indeed," Connor confirmed, still engrossed in scrolling through his smartphone. "This is my company, Atlas."

"It's so huge," Atlas observed.

"Later, during lunch, kindly bring me the meal you'll prepare. I find the food here bland, taste like socks," Connor instructed.

"Understood, Sir," Atlas acknowledged.

"Very well, take care," Connor bid him as Atlas alighted from the car.

This is the moment where he need to use his lifeline called 'call a friend'--if she sees him as a friend, he bet she is.

Oh, no, Heather! Atlas badly needs her help.

Atlas' fingers danced nervously on the phone's touchscreen, repeatedly dialing Heather's number as he paced back and forth in the dimly lit kitchen. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as the seconds ticked away like hours. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the call connected, and Heather's voice crackled through the receiver.

"HELLO, Heather! MY BOSS WANTS LUNCH! HELP!" Atlas' voice echoed with a mixture of desperation and urgency.

"Why are you so loud?" Heather's voice came through the phone, laced with irritation and a hint of curiosity.

"WHERE ARE YOU? I'LL COME PICK YOU UP!" Atlas' words tumbled out, an anxious plea for assistance, his eyes darting to the clock, the minutes slipping away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

Heather's response was swift and to the point, the faint sound of hurried footsteps in the background put her in a panic state too. Damn, this guy! His nervousness is contagious.

"HOLD ON, I'M ON MY WAY."

As Atlas raced against time, his heart pounding in his chest, Heather worked her culinary magic with a grace that belied her annoyance. The sizzle of vegetables in a hot pan and the aromatic symphony of herbs and spices filled the air. The kitchen, once a chaotic mess, was now transformed into a haven of culinary creation.

"Wow! This tastes amazing!" Atlas exclaimed as he took the first bite, his taste buds ignited by the explosion of flavors that danced on his palate. He couldn't help but marvel at the dish Heather had crafted, each bite a testament to her culinary prowess.

"You don't eat it before your boss! Ugh, don't touch it, it'll get spoiled!" Heather's reprimand pulled Atlas back from his gastronomic reverie. He paused, his index finger halfway to his mouth, and sheepishly withdrew it, realizing the truth in her words.

"Sorry, alright, let's take this. Are you coming?" Atlas asked, his eagerness evident in his voice.

"Of course, I can't be left behind here!" Heather's response held a hint of amusement, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint as she made her way to join Atlas.

After a seemingly interminable wait, Heather's phone buzzed with a message from Atlas.

"Sorry I took so long, I got lost. This building is huge. Are you hungry?" Heather read the message and couldn't help but smile, her anxiety dissipating in his presence.

"Probably, what am I, a snake?" Heather's witty retort elicited a chuckle from Atlas, and he couldn't help but admire her quick wit.

After some damn good waiting moments of Heather, the man finally showed up.

"Let's eat the dishes you cooked," Atlas suggested as soon as he opened the door of the car and entered the car.

Heather nodded in agreement.

"It seems like it's not just your boss who enjoys it," Heather remarked, her gaze fixed on Atlas, her words carrying a hint of something more.

"Enjoy it because of you? Uh—because of your cooking? That's what I really mean." Atlas inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Tsk, let's go eat already. Start driving," Heather replied, playfully rolling her eyes, yet the connection between them continued to deepen, growing stronger with each passing day.

Their daily routine continued, each day an opportunity for Atlas to refine his culinary skills under Heather's patient guidance. Three weeks had passed, and Atlas' progress was remarkable.

"Wow, Atlas, you've improved so much in just three weeks!" Heather exclaimed, her eyes shining with genuine delight. She couldn't help but hug Atlas, her joy evident in her warm embrace. In a moment of spontaneous elation, she planted a kiss on his cheek, a gesture of friendship that caught them both off guard.

"Hold on, what are you doing?" Heather quickly pulled back, her cheeks flushing with a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

"I-I was going to kiss you on the cheek too!" Atlas stammered, attempting to reciprocate, but Heather's reaction halted him in his tracks.

"No! I was just startled. Forget about it," Heather dismissed the incident with a nervous chuckle, but the exchange lingered in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the shift in their relationship.

They decided to put the moment behind them and continued with their daily routine, preparing the meals that Atlas would later deliver to Connor's company. Heather mentioned that next week, she might be busier as she would resume her job hunt, and this could potentially be their last day together since Atlas had shown significant improvement and could now cook independently.

A week later, they met again, and it felt like an eternity had passed since their last encounter. Atlas couldn't help but comment, "It was one week later, but it felt like I hadn't seen you in a year."

Heather smiled, intrigued by Atlas' words, as he handed her an envelope containing a substantial amount of money.

"Wow, this is a lot! Looks like you're making it big, huh?" Heather remarked, her eyes wide with amazement.

"I received a bonus from my boss, but I gave it all to you. You deserve it," Atlas explained, a hint of sincerity in his voice.

"You should have split it, at least. Here, take half of it." Heather attempted to hand back a portion of the money to Atlas.

"No, it's yours now. Don't worry about me; you need it more," Atlas insisted, his tone resolute.

"Are you sure?" Heather asked, still offering the envelope to him.

"Yes," Atlas replied, pushing the envelope back toward her.

"Alright, it'll come in handy for paying off some debts," Heather said with a cheerful smile as she tucked the payment she received for teaching him how to cook into her bag.

"Where are you off to now? I can give you a ride," Atlas offered. The Starbucks was getting crowded, and they both felt like leaving.

"Oh, yes! Sure, your driving is pretty fast," Heather teased.

"Where to?" Atlas inquired as they made their way out of Starbucks toward his parked car.

"I'm going to audition," Heather revealed to him as they walked.

"For what?"

"An audition, duh! To become an actress! Kathryn Bernardo, Anne Curtis, Liza Soberano, and then me! I'm next!"

"It's free to dream, right?" Atlas playfully teased, which Heather didn't appreciate at all.

"This guy, he can't say anything sensible," Heather muttered, walking out on him.

"Just kidding, come on... hey!" Atlas chased after Heather and followed her closely. When he managed to reach her and grab her arm to prevent her from going any farther, she tried to break free.