Chapter 3: I Want To Eat... You

Samara turned to face the kitchen door when she heard footsteps coming and sighed as she saw that Jasson was there, half-naked. He was wearing sweatpants, and his muscular body was glistening with sweat. His hand was busy wiping his wet hair with a white towel. 

Samara was unconsciously drooling over her master’s perfect torso and was startled when her master greeted her. 

“Good morning. You're awake.” 

“G-good morning, Master.” She immediately looked away and faced what she was cooking. “You're up. I thought you were still asleep, Master,” she added. 

“Before sunrise is my wake-up time to jog around the village.” Jasson leaned over to peek at what Samara was doing. 

Samara panicked because Jasson is on her right back and just inches away from her. She held her breath when she smelled the mint coming from his mouth as he speaks. She used to see him half-naked and almost near her when she was a kid, but she never felt the nervousness she was feeling right now. 

She even remembers the first time she felt nervous or afraid of their young master. That was when they first met on the island, six years ago. But days after that, they became even closer to each other, more so than her closeness to Kuya Norman and Ate Anastacia, whom she first met and got along with. 

“You didn't bake cookies?” He moved slightly away just to lean on the countertop near the induction cooker. He lowered himself there as he stared at the girl. 

She glared and pouted at him to hide her uneasiness. “You should eat a heavy breakfast before going to work. I'll bake it later for your snack. What time are you going home?” 

Jasson was stunned for a moment, then a smile flashed on his lips, causing Samara to shudder. 

“I don't know. It depends on the amount of work I must deal with right now. If you want, I'll send a driver to bring the cookies to the office.” He stood up straight and put his hands on his waist. 

“Ahmm, can I come along, Master?” Samara asked with anticipation in her eyes. 

Jasson kept his mouth shut and seemed to think, after a while, “Okay. I'll take a shower first,” he answered and tapped her cheek before leaving. 

Samara heaved a sigh of relief when her boss finally left the kitchen. She couldn't figure out why she struggled to breathe because of his presence. She could feel the heat on her cheek as she remembered his half-naked body. And when her master tapped her on the cheek, she felt a strange tickle in her stomach. 

If Daniel Matsunaga’s body is the definition of perfection for her, how can she define her master’s body? A godly creation? 

“Oh, my God!” Samara exclaimed as she caressed her cheek and shook her head. Shame on oneself at the thought of such delicate thoughts. 

Samara couldn’t look directly at her young master when he came down and strode into the dining room. He’s wearing his expensive black office suit and slacks, and a pair of shining black leather shoes. But something is missing in his very formal attire– a necktie! 

“Where do you wish to spend your senior year?” Jasson broke the silence after a few mouthfuls of their breakfast. “Don't tell me you're still going to continue home-school on the island?” 

Samara was stilled by her master’s question. Her forehead creased, and her eyes narrowed as she thought of what she wanted. 

 “I don’t know yet, Master.” She shrugged off the thoughts and continued eating. I'm still in eighth grade and still have two years to think about my senior high.” 

Jasson finally stopped eating. He let go of the cutlery he was holding, leaned back on the backrest, and folded his arms against his chest, causing his muscles to tense up. 

“You should be thinking about it now, so you'll be ready when the time comes.” 

Samara nodded, and the room fell silent once more. Afterward, Samara speaks again, “I heard from Mama and Papa that they might take me to India. I think Papa wants me to go there from senior high until college. So––” She raised her head and forced a smile as she looked at her master. “So, I don't want to think about stepping into senior high right now, Master.” 

Jasson’s forehead wrinkled, “India?” he questioned, his hands clenched as he laid it on the table. His perfect jaw tightens for no apparent reason. 

Samara shook her head. Her father is Indian, and her mother is Filipino. The two met at Isla Lutherio. Mara, Samara’s mother, was born and raised on the island. She met Dawood, Samara’s father when she was eighteen when the latter works as Jasson’s personal driver. 

“If you had a choice, where would you like to live and study?” Jasson asked. 

She pouted as she glanced at her boss. “I want it here,” she answered in a lower voice, but it reached Jasson's ear. The latter nodded and finished his breakfast. He stood up and headed to the living room to pick up the suitcase he would carry. 

Samara ran up to the second floor and entered the man's room that was left open, and chasing her breath, she hurriedly followed Jasson into the garage. “Master!” 

Jasson’s forehead creased when he turned to face Samara. 

Samara raised her right hand where she held the blue necktie. “It's better for you if you wear this.” Then she came closer to him. 

Jasson smiled and bent a little to let Samara put the necktie around his collar and fix it. He was almost out of breath as their faces were so close. He couldn't help but stare at her while busy fixing the necktie. 

And when Samara is done. “There!” she exclaimed with joy. 

Jasson patted her head slightly. “Thanks. Just call me if you need something, okay?” he said, turning his back on the girl. 

***** 

Time just seemed to fly by without Samara realizing that her two-week vacation is coming to an end. She spent her time going around with her young master or visiting his other siblings. Jasson really made the most of the time and took her to some places in the Philippines, her mother's country of origin. 

It was Sunday, and Jasson stayed at the mansion. He had nowhere to go. He was just waiting for Samara to ask him to bring her somewhere. But it was already past four in the afternoon, and no Samara appeared in his room. So, he decided to leave his room and went to Samara's room to invite her to go somewhere else instead. 

“Where else do you want to go or visit?” he asked as he entered her room uninvited. He found Samara lying on the bed with her head hanging on the edge, facing the door, which he finds weird. 

Samara was shocked by Jasson's sudden appearance. “Master!” She immediately got up and sat on the bed. 

Jasson chuckled, “You don’t want to go out? You're going home on Tuesday. Don't you want to make the most of your day here?” 

Samara pouted and looked at her master with her glassy eyes. “Will you visit me on the island?” she whimpered. 

Jasson tsked, “You haven't come home yet, and missing me already?” he teases her as he closed the door and walked closer to the bed. 

Samara watched Jasson as he came closer, “Excuse me, you are not the only one I'm going to miss. I will miss Ate Stacy too. And I haven't even seen Norshine and Ate Shine. When will they return, Master?” she asked referring to Jasson’s niece and sister-in-law. 

“You may not be able to catch them. They will be coming back from Greece the first week of next month,” he answered and sat on the space at the edge of the bed. 

Samara sighed loudly out of frustration. She regrets that she will not be able to see the family of one of his master’s siblings before returning home. She laid her back on the bed; her feet were dangling on the other side of the mattress, and her head was near Jasson. 

“Come on. I left my paper works to free my Sunday, and we will just shut up here, really?” 

She rolled over to lie down on her stomach. She raised her upper body; her elbows were on the bed, and her chin was up with her palms. “I'm not in the mood to go out, Master,” she grunted. 

Jasson heaved a sigh. He lay down next to Samara, pending his lower legs on the edge, and his head was a few inches away from the side of Samara's head. He crosses his arms, puts them under his head, and makes them as a pillow. “In that case, what are we going to do here?” He tilted his head towards the young lady. 

“I- I can cook or b-bake? What do you want, Master?” 

“You.” 

Samara cried out as she stood and sat up. “Master!” She shunned her face away when she feels the heat on her cheeks as she gave meaning to her master’s answer. 

Jasson smirked, “What?” he was amused at Samara’s reaction. 

“W-wha– what– me?” 

Jasson suppressed his smile, but he failed; a smirk flashed on his lips as Samara’s reaction was so cute in his eyes. He turned and lay on his stomach. He folded his left arm across his chest, his right elbow on the mattress, and his hand on his chin to support his head, so he could see her better. 

“I mean, what exactly do 'you' want?” he inquired softly. He had been tormented by the turns of events in their lives for so many years that he had finally achieved serenity. He was struck by how light the atmosphere was. And he enjoys the sensation of being free of burden. 

Samara stared at Jasson intensely. She couldn’t retain herself from staring at him. It seems like his every move has magic. The way his biceps protruded and his upper back twitched every time he moved. And the abnormal beating of the small part of her life inside her right chest started. She’s having a hard time breathing. This is not the first time she has become closer to her master. In fact, among the household workers on the Isla Lutherio, she’s the only one who can get closer to the Luther siblings. 

“Hmmm, what if you cook and bake for us, and we will bring it on the rooftop?” Jasson suggested. 

It is a good idea. The view from the rooftop is majestic. It seems like you are on top of the hills. From west to north of the rooftop, you will see the lush scenery coming from the province of Rizal. You can see the silhouettes of the hills during sunset. On the east are the high-rise buildings of the neighboring city. And to the south is an open field and the helipad. 

Samara shook her head. “Uhm— okay,” she slowly agreed but didn’t make a move. 

Jasson stood up and started heading to the door, but before he could open it, he stopped and turned to Samara. “Hurry up, lazy head. I’m going to prepare the rooftop for us,” he said, turning his back on her again, and finally left the room. 

Samara still nodded even though her master had disappeared from her sight. She’s started questioning herself. Something was new, but she couldn’t recognize it yet. She’s the only daughter of her parents; she doesn’t have siblings, and she can't remember the difference between the feeling of having a spoiling brother, and of a man that is special to her. And Master Jasson is like a big brother to her; he loves spoiling her. 

But now… she had no idea. She felt something had changed, or maybe because she hadn't seen her master for a long time. That’s why she notices every single detail of him. That Daniel Matsunaga is no longer her definition of ‘sexy and perfection,’ but instead—her master. Not to mention that he is just wearing a simple white cotton sando and black cotton shorts. 

Is it really like this when you don’t see someone for a long time? 

Samara shook her head to clear her mind from thinking. Having a crush on a celebrity is just average, but admiring her master is too high to dream of. She knew that Jasson was just considering her as a little sister. 

She heaved a sigh. Whatever she is feeling right now is not right. She must ignore it. She doesn’t want to feel uncomfortable with her master. She doesn’t want to lose their closeness just because of her admiration for a man whose age is double her age. 

She had better get up, leave her room, and prepare the meals she would take to the rooftop. She busied herself in the kitchen, making salads, tacos, and his master’s favorite cookies. He brewed fresh fruit juice for their drink. Miss Rhenz, the trusted servant of her Master Jasson, helped her bring the food to the rooftop. 

Jasson immediately came to them when he saw the two coming from behind the glass door. He took Samara’s tray and brought it onto the picnic mattress he set up for them to lie on. 

Samara felt excited as she saw the prepared bed on the floor. It was a sky-blue furry carpet that could accommodate more than two persons. Four white and blue stripes long cushions are properly arranged on three sides. The circle picnic mat for food is in the middle of the picnic mattress. 

“Thank you, Rhenz. You can join us here,” Jasson invited the late thirties Ms. Rhenz. 

Miss Rhenz waved her hands. “Oh, thank you, boss. But I am frail in the cold. Just enjoy your picnic. I will go down now,” she declined. 

“Thank you, Miss Rhenz,” Samara said. She helped Master Jasson on arranging the food. 

Samara tried to act normally as they ate the food she had prepared. But the more she ignores the awkwardness she is feeling, the more she notices everything. From a white sando, her master changed into a white shirt; still, it couldn’t hide his perfect muscles that twitched whenever he reached the food. And instead of serving him, her master is the one who’s serving her. He will put food on her empty plate or refill juice on her empty glass. 

Her master has a perfectly built frame with a sculpted flat abdomen. And because they had eaten all she had prepared, she had no idea where he put what he ate. 

They collected all the empty dishes in the trays, and Samara was about to stand up to bring it all down to the kitchen, but Jasson stopped her. 

“Let it on the side, Ara. Sit here. The sun is about to set.” He pulled her down onto the picnic mattress. He even fixed the cushion and put it on her back to lean properly. 

Samara wants to watch her master’s handsome face, but she doesn’t want to be caught by him. She just turned her gaze in front of them and watched the sunset come. From orange skies, it became dark as the sun rest and the moon rise. It was a solemn night with those stars shining above and this man on her side. 

She leaned back until her back was against the mat, and her head rested on the cushion. She could only hear their breath because the night was so quiet. She cocked her head to the right, hoping to catch a glimpse of her master, but he was too preoccupied with the sky and was like a kid mesmerized by the atmosphere.