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“Yeah.” He nodded. “It was either in the book of Paul or John.”
“Funny.” I shook my head.
Be careful.
I was beginning to enjoy his company too much. Even worse, I enjoyed the way he treated me, like a gentleman, but also his equal. And then I couldn’t forget those lips and fingers.
Perhaps this is why his harem agrees to his selfish desires.
He makes you fall for him first, and then hits you with the crazy reality.
“Give me your iPod,” he demanded.
“I’m not letting you buy me music.” I wrenched out my sandwich wrapped in wax paper. “You already pay my salary, but I do promise to buy a greatest hits album and check it out.”
He gazed at my sandwich. “You do realize I have a chef on board. He would make you whatever you wanted.”
“He probably cooks crap.”
“Excuse me?” He laughed. “I currently have him bringing us the best steaks that money can buy, whereas you have a pitiful sandwich.”
“This isn’t just a sandwich. This is a flavorful masterpiece.” I broke it in half and offered it to him. Without hesitation, he took the piece and bit into it.
His eyes closed as he chewed. “I just got another erection. What is this?”
“Culatello, which is a higher quality of prosciutto—”
“Prosciutto?”
“Really really awesome ham. Anyway, Culatello is cured with great wine for like a year.” I ate some of my portion. “So this sandwich is Culatello, brie, herbed cream cheese, French bread, and truffles—which is insane. I mean seriously. Who would stick something as expensive as truffles in a sandwich but Gabe?”
“He made this?”
“Yeah. He happened to be in my area today—”
“Of course he happened to be there.” Chase rolled his eyes. “You live ten minutes outside the city. He lives downtown. That’s at least a thirty minute drive from his place to yours.”
I stiffened. “Why do you know where he lives?”
“I just happened to be in his area, I guess.” Chase leaned back and began tapping his finger on his thigh.
I formed my lips into an angry straight line. “Seriously, why do you know that?”
“I requested that Lucy gather information about him.” “Why?”
“He’s an outstanding chef. I want to form an advisory board in my revamping of food businesses.”
I gave him a skeptical look.
He tossed back that confident smile as if to say prove I’m full of shit.
“Go ahead and finish your story,” he said.
“There is a fabulous farmer’s market on my block on Saturdays. It’s half of the reason I moved to that town, so that’s why he was there.” I finished my sandwich. “Anyway, he saw I was packing to go on a business trip and decided to make me some food for the flight.”
“Of course he did.” Chase continued to eat.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
