Part 1The Private Chef: Serving Up Boundaries

I had cooked for Liam ever since college. Six years, straight.

The job was easy, though occasionally, I had to handle things outside of my job description—like picking up condoms for him.

A woman wrapped only in a bath towel leaned against his door, eyeing me with a mocking smirk.

"Wow, you're pathetic. You're still chasing after him even when things are like this?"

The door wasn't shut completely. As I walked away, I heard Liam's voice drifting into the hallway.

"I wouldn't dare touch her. A woman like that... if I slept with her, she'd probably threaten to kill herself if I ever tried to leave. I'm not dealing with that kind of crazy."

Later, Liam's mother tracked me down. She slid a sleek, black debit card across the table.

"There’s a hundred grand on this card. Leave my son alone."

I swallowed the words I originally wanted to say. But in the end, I couldn't resist the temptation of cold, hard cash. I just nodded and said, "Okay."

When I went to interview for a new job, I ended up face-to-face with Liam's best friend. He looked at me, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"How much was Liam paying you?"

I answered cautiously:

"A thousand..."

* * *

When I said that, Ethan clearly looked taken aback.

"A thousand?"

"You were with Liam for all these years, and he was only paying you a thousand dollars a month?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I immediately scrambled to justify it.

"A thousand was my starting rate! I have years of experience now, and my cooking has improved significantly. My current rate should be at least..."

I racked my brain, worrying that a thousand sounded way too cheap to someone like Ethan. But as a private chef/housekeeper, I didn't want to quote an astronomical price and lose the job.

I held up a few fingers, answering nervously:

"Fifteen hundred."

Ethan just stared at me with that half-smile. It was giving me the creeps.

I never expected that when I applied for this private chef position, the employer would turn out to be Ethan.

Ethan and Liam were close friends. The moment I saw him, my stomach dropped. I wanted to turn around and walk right out, but he stopped me.

"You say you have experience, and you're a good cook. How good are we talking?"

Ethan suddenly stepped forward, leaning in close, practically sniffing my neck.

"How will I know if I don't give you a try?"

I figured he had a point. Even if I didn't get the job long-term, cooking a trial meal would be good interview practice.

"Alright. I'll do a trial run."