Evening...
An enticing aroma filled the house, a calamari soothing Vince's nostrils. The smell was only faint but still caught his nose.
Ever since he brought her to the penthouse, he became sensitive to the food she prepared exclusively for him. Lately, he realized he had been looking forward to having a meal with her world-class dishes.
Instead, he thinks of what he has as a private chef rather than a mistress.
Reaching his chin, Vince mused. 'What other things is she good at aside from cooking?'
Unable to find an answer, Vince got up from his chair and walked out of his study. He placed one hand on the railings, and one hand was shoved into his pocket. His eyes swept at the table, and then his attention lingered on the woman stirring soup in front of the cooking stove.
He was watching both the food and the chef. His mouth drools from his desire to have a taste of them.
