Dampened

Lillian’s POV

“Miss Baker, the patron on table 17 asked me to give you this,” Zade said, handing me a white envelope.

“Thanks, Zade,” I replied, slotting the envelope into the pocket of my apron, to which he nodded.

Opening the oven, I brought out the tub of freshly-made greek yogurt and set it on the table. Although there were quite a lot of good brands of Greek yogurt, I preferred making it myself because it always tasted unique, especially in the fruit parfait, which was a dessert special of Watkins.

Zade had prepared the parfait ingredients earlier, so I just had to add the granola, sliced coconuts, grapes, apples and yogurt into the dessert plates.

Thereafter, I placed the plates on the tray, which the server promptly took into the dining area.

Sitting on a nearby stool, I sighed heavily and fluttered my eyes shut.

As rewarding as being a head chef was, it was an extremely stressful job that involved standing for a greater part of my day.

However, I couldn't have it any other way because my career had fulfilled me in many ways that I couldn't even begin to explain.

As I dabbed my forehead with a towel, the realization that Mrs Laughlin's birthday event would begin tomorrow hit me for the umpteenth time that day, causing me to inhale sharply.

For the past three weeks, I had convinced myself that I could cater for the event, without thinking of anything but the money I would earn.

However, after being in Stefano's strong arms for the first time in five years, I found myself thinking illicit, stupid things and contemplating if I could really face him again without feeling weird.

To think I had done so twice now, without feeling nothing but pure, vitriolic anger toward him and now, simply because, he held me, I was losing my mind.

His powerful, masculine musk was still vivid in my memory, and just thinking it made my heart flutter with salacious feelings.

I couldn't believe just how touch-starved I was.

Pushing the thoughts away, I reached into my apron's pocket for the envelope Zade gave me, and opened it.

My jaw slacked when I saw ten hundred pounds in clean, new notes.

For the past three years that I had been working at Watkins, this was the hugest tip I had ever received.

Removing five hundred pounds from the money, I returned the remainder into my pocket then split the money into two, equal halves.

Darting a stare at Zade who was slicing onions, I stood up and went over to him.

On seeing me, he took out his airpods. “Do you need something, ma'am?”

“No. Actually, I want you to have this,” I said, giving him his own half of the money, and he darted me a weird look as if I had grown horns.

Glancing at the money like it was a monster, Zade looked at me again.

“Why are you giving me this?” He asked, and I couldn't help but huff.

Watkins was right. Zade could be a case at times.

“You are also a staff here, aren't you?” I asked. “The tip isn't meant for just me to share but for all of us. The server will also get hers.”

After much hesitation, Zade finally collected the money from me and for the first time since he started interning at the restaurant, he smiled.

It was small but it was there.

“Thank you, ma'am,” Zade said. “I just can't believe kind people like you still exist in this world.”

“You're welcome. I would be a devil if I kept the money for myself,” I replied, before going to sit down on the stool again.

“My internship ends next month,” Zade said, moments later as I prepared chicken lasgana.

“Oh. Time really went by fast, huh?” I uttered, and he nodded, clasping his hands together.

“It sure does. When I initially started interning here, I hated this place because my dad chose it to punish me,” Zade said. “I'm an accounting graduate, who should be interning at his company but being the evil person he is, he decided to make me intern at a restaurant instead. Somehow, I'm actually glad I interned here because I learnt and gained interest in cooking.”

“That's a lot of information, Zade,” I said, utterly surprised at his utterance.

It was the most words I had ever heard him speak ever since he started his internship.

My inkling was right. Beneath his cold demeanor lied a vulnerable child who was desperate to be heard, and that made me feel even bad for him.

“I'm sorry for dumping my life's problem on you like that,” Zade mumbled. “It's just you seem nice and non-judgmental, so I felt I could tell you stuff but it's fine, if you don't want to hear it.”

“Let me just put this in the oven and we'll talk, yeah?” I told him.

“Okay.”

Five minutes later, I was sitting on a stool beside Zade as he revealed his life to me.

“My mum died when I was in middle school and my dad got married barely a month after her death,” He divulged. “He was obviously cheating on her even before her death and I know the cardiac arrest that killed my mum was due to heartbreak.”

“Oh, Zade. I'm so sorry to hear that,” I said, and he shrugged.

“The reason my dad used his connections to make me intern here is because I caught his wife trying to throw my mum's belongings away about a year ago and told her off,” He continued. “Being the model husband he is, my dad claimed I had disrespected his wife and decided to make me intern here in a place that's not even relevant to my course of study.”

“How awful of him. So do you still live with them?”

“No, I don't,” He replied. “My mum willed a condo to me, so I stay there currently.”

“You are really a strong young man, Zade,” I said, patting his back. “Pay no attention to him and do what you want. Also, do not hesitate to let me know if you need help, alright?”

“Yes, Miss Baker,” He nodded. “Thanks for listening.”

“You're welcome, Zade.” I replied.

Zade reminded me of my younger self and I couldn't help but root for him to become a successful individual in the future, so he could put his father and stepmother to shame.

+

Stefano's POV

“I have found five people that are interested in the private chef position, sir,” Sheila said, as I scarved down a takeout container of Mac and cheese.

Although I knew how to cook, I hated my own cooking, so I had been looking for a private chef ever since I arrived in London.

However, the people I had interviewed were not who I wanted, so I had to rely on takeouts, which was now starting to taste bland as the weeks went by.

I had also declined Sheila's offer to double in as a cook.

“Tell them to be present here for an interview by six in the evening,” I said, as I walked out of the house, moments later.

“Yes, sir.”

As I entered my car, my phone vibrated with a call. On further inspection, I saw that Gregory was calling.

“What's up?” I asked.

“I just found out that Ma'am Lillian is a mother to triplets, sir,” He said, and my eyes gaped in shock.

“I thought she was unmarried?”

“She is, sir,” Gregory replied. “I'll look into it further, sir.”

Without giving him a response, I ended the call and clenched either side of the steering wheel, millions of thoughts assailing my mind.

Lillian had triplets?

Fuck, what if Gregory had been mistaken and she was secretly married to the father of her sons?

What would become of my plan to win her back?