Chapter 137
Emily's POV
I woke up that morning to the sound of Mason already moving around in the kitchen. The coffee maker was gurgling, and I could hear him opening cabinets, probably looking for a mug.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and checked my phone. No messages from Alex. No messages from Ethan. Just the usual work reminders and a text from Orion asking if I could swing by the restaurant early to sign off on a vendor contract.
I texted back that I'd be there in an hour, then dragged myself out of bed and into the shower.
By the time I was dressed and ready, Mason had already poured me coffee and set it on the counter. He was standing by the sink, drying his hands on a dish towel, looking at me like he was waiting for permission to speak.
"I'm coming with you," he said before I could even open my mouth.
I blinked. "What?"
"To the restaurant. I'm coming with you."
I set my coffee down. "Mason, you don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to," he interrupted. "But I want to. I can cook. I can help in the kitchen. And if I'm not good enough for that, I can do other stuff. Cleaning. Organizing. Whatever you need."
I stared at him, trying to figure out if this was a good idea or a terrible one. He looked determined, and I could tell he wasn't gonna let this go.
"Mason—"
"Please," he said, his voice dropping. "I wanna be useful. I wanna help. Let me do this."
I sighed, picking up my coffee and taking a long sip. I didn't have the energy to argue with him, and honestly, I didn't want to. If he wanted to come, fine. I could keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't overwork himself or get in anyone's way.
"Okay," I said finally. "But you're not doing anything too heavy, and if I tell you to stop, you stop. Deal?"
He nodded, his face lighting up. "Deal."
---
We got to the restaurant around nine. The morning prep crew was already there, and my chef Orion was in the back office going over invoices. I knocked on the doorframe, and he looked up, eyebrows raising when he saw Mason behind me.
"Who's this?" he asked, his tone curious but not hostile.
"Mason," I said. "He's staying with me. He's gonna help out today."
Orion looked Mason up and down, then nodded slowly. "He knows how to work?"
"He can cook."
Orion grunted. "We'll see. Tell him to wash his hands and stay out of the way until I say otherwise."
Mason nodded and headed straight for the handwashing station without a word. Orion watched him go, then looked back at me.
"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice dropping.
"No," I admitted. "But he needs something to do. And I'd rather have him here where I can see him than sitting alone in my apartment all day."
Orion shrugged. "Your call. Just don't let him mess up my kitchen."
I signed the vendor contract, checked in with the front-of-house manager, and then stopped outside my office door for a moment. Mason was already moving around the dining area, finding things to do without being asked. Sweeping the front. Wiping down tables. Organizing the storage room.
I watched him for a second, something settling in my chest. He was good at this. At making himself useful without making a scene.
Then I stepped into my office and closed the door behind me, turning my attention to the mountain of paperwork waiting for me.
I spent the next hour buried in spreadsheets, trying to reconcile the food cost percentages with the revenue projections. And then the door opened.
I looked up to see Alex standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, suit jacket perfectly tailored, expression unreadable.
"Hey," he said, his voice smooth and casual.
My stomach clenched. "What are you doing here?"
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Saw Mason out front. Didn't know you were hiring."
I straightened in my chair, keeping my face neutral. "I have the authority to hire staff. I don't need to run it by the company president."
He smiled, that slow, dangerous smile that always made my pulse spike. "Relax, Emily. I'm not here to micromanage you. Just curious."
"Well, now you know," I said, turning back to the spreadsheet. "Was there something else?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to my desk and leaned against the edge, looking down at the papers spread out in front of me.
"What are you working on?" he asked.
"Food costs."
"Mind if I take a look?"
I did mind. But I also knew that saying no would only make this worse. So I slid the spreadsheet toward him and leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.
He picked it up, scanning the numbers, his brow furrowing slightly. "You're still overpaying for produce."
"I'm working on it."
"Good." He set the paper down and looked at me, his eyes sharp. "You're doing a solid job here, Emily. I'm lucky to have you."
I didn't respond. I just stared at him, waiting for him to get to the point.
He didn't. Instead, he moved closer, rounding the desk until he was standing right next to my chair. I could smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his body.
"Alex—"
He leaned down and kissed me.
I froze. For half a second, I didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't do anything. And then my body took over, and I kissed him back, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.
He made a low sound in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up to cup the back of my neck, tilting my head to the angle he wanted.
And then his other hand was on my thigh, sliding up under my skirt, and I gasped against his mouth, my brain finally catching up.
"Alex, stop—"
"Shh," he murmured, his lips brushing against my jaw, my neck. "Just let me."
His fingers found the edge of my underwear, and I felt him smile against my skin.
"You broke up with me," I said, my voice shaking. "You can't just—"
"I know," he said softly. "But you're not stopping me."
"You didn't lock the door—"
"No one's going to interrupt when the president and the general manager are having a conversation," he said against my throat, his voice maddeningly calm, completely unbothered. "And if someone does walk in, let them watch."
The fear of being seen, of someone walking in and finding us like this, only made it worse—made the heat coil tighter, made my skin more sensitive. My body arched into his touch, my breath coming fast and shallow, my hands still gripping his shirt like I couldn't let go.