Chapter 15

Amara's POV:

I sat down on the couch, legs crossed, as I replied to a text from Amelia. I saw an unknown number had texted me, but I left it alone since I didn’t know who it was. I received several more messages, so I finally blocked the number. It was probably a scammer. If it were someone important, I knew they’d identify themselves.

“Guess what we’re up to,” Charlotte texted me. I immediately replied with question marks, curious to know what my little guy was up to. She sent me a picture of her and Sebastian both dressed in aprons and making little pizzas. Sebastian’s hands were covered in red sauce, as was his mouth.

“Oh wow, seems like you’re both enjoying making a mess,” I texted with laughing emojis after the sentence.

“Good thing we wore aprons,” she replied.

“It’s very much needed when cooking with Chef Sebastian.” I smiled as I replied to her text. They were, indeed, needed. I knew that from the number of times Sebastian “helped” make something.

“I can see that. Enjoy your date,” she replied, to which I responded, “Enjoy your pizzas.”

I heard the motor of the gate working and Zavier's car driving over the gravel, coming closer and closer. I didn’t realize I had become nervous; it wasn’t an official date, yet I felt this way.

I got up, fixed the dress, then walked to the mirror by the door and checked my makeup. I heard footsteps coming up the steps and the door opening.

“Oh, wow—” Zavier's green eyes widened, slowly going down my body and then back up to my face.

“Hey.” I smiled, looking straight into his gorgeous eyes. I couldn’t help but get lost in them.

“You look beautiful,” Zavier added, making me smile. I walked to the seat we had outside and sat down to put on my heels. “Is that a Fuentes dress?”

“Yeah,” I answered, looking up at him as I pulled on my right shoe.

“You know, all these clothes from the line you've been wearing have never been released because we found they didn't fit right, but now, I see they just never had the right model wearing them,” he said, eyes focused on me as I put on my other shoe. His words made my cheeks heat up a little.

“I’m no model—just a chef.” I laughed awkwardly, looking up at him.

“Your energy is friendly and warm, and your smile radiates the same energy. That’s all it takes for us,” Zavier said calmly, giving me his hand to help me stand up.

“I’m ready,” I told him, changing the subject, which worked.

“Let’s go, then.” He led the way to the car and opened the door for me.

On the drive to our destination, we barely spoke since he was getting constant calls regarding his business. He apologized for them, but I understood. He mentioned the influx was because he had been a little disorganized the last few days. I knew that the news about our son coming out and us making this plan to deceive Mr. Fischer only gave him more tasks to do and increased his workload.

When we arrived, the place looked like some ordinary hotel, which confused me. What was his idea of dinner? I looked over at Zavier, waiting for him to finish up his calls.

“Sorry about that,” he said and tucked away his phone.

“It’s okay; I understand,” I replied, watching as he fixed his hair in the mirror and then got out of the car.

“Thank you for understanding.” He looked over at me as I stepped out, reaching out for my hand and holding onto it as he led the way.

“Um, is this your idea of dinner?” I asked, raising a brow at him.

“Do you even know where we are?” Zavier asked.

“Uh, Hotel Sunrise?” I laughed a little as I read the name of the place.

“Well, yeah, but the top floor of this place is actually a restaurant called The Private Grill,” Zavier informed me with a smile, moving his hand to my waist and walking a little faster now.

“No way.” I looked up at him, my mouth hanging open a little. The Private Grill was somewhere only celebrities could go. It was just for them, and the locations were difficult to find out. Even when you knew the location, the security was impossible to get through.

“Mm-hmm, one of the three.” He smiled and opened the door for me.

“Wow,” I said, surprised.

“Sorry for holding you so close. I think people were taking photos,” he whispered in my ear, and his breath on my skin sent shivers down my spine. I frowned when he mentioned that people were already taking photos. I knew this would happen and was prepared for it, but it still felt so weird.

“Already?” I frowned and looked over at him.

“It seems so…” He sighed.

He walked us to the elevator. When it stopped at the top floor, there were many guards in the lobby. Once they saw Zavier and confirmed he had reserved a table, we were free to walk in, and a hostess immediately showed up and led the way to a table. It was near the edge of the room, giving the best view of the city—not to mention the nice breeze we had up here. It was also very well-lit. There was a vase with a single pink rose and little tealights surrounding it on the table.

“I’ll return with the menus in a moment. Let me know if the table is to your liking, Mr. Fuentes,” the waitress said kindly after showing us to our table.

“We will,” Zavier said, pulling out the chair for me and then sitting down across from me.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“I love the place; it looks amazing,” I said, looking around in awe. I noticed a well-known artist was sitting not too far away from us.

“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled and looked over at the waitress, who laid the menus down on the table for us.

“Here you go. I’ll come back in five minutes to check if you’re ready to order.”

“Thank you.” I smiled and opened up the menu. Most of these dishes sounded so fancy. The place I worked at had fine dining dishes too, but not like these.

“Any idea what you want?” Zavier asked, looking up from his menu and leaning back a little.

“The braised leeks with mozzarella and fried eggs sound good,” I replied in a slightly unsure tone.

“Oh yeah, I tried that once. I’ll try the pappardelle with chicken and cauliflower,” he replied and looked up at me.

“Sounds good. Please order the drinks for us. These names are confusing me.” I laughed awkwardly. Sure, I drank wine, but Nicole was usually the one who picked it out.

“You got it.” Zavier laughed too and checked the drink section.

When the woman returned, he placed our orders and then looked back at me. We stared at each other for a moment, slightly smiling before breaking the ice.

“So, what would you like to ask?” he broke the silence. I thought about it for a moment. This was what we were here for, so we should get to know each other in case Mr. Fischer started asking questions.

“Um, why don’t you have any staff at the house? Or drivers? I thought rich people had people to help make things easier,” I asked, accidentally letting more come out than intended.

“I like my privacy. My family does have maids and butlers and all of that, but I personally don’t like them. Some can be nosy, and I want my privacy to be respected. I do have maids coming every Tuesday and Thursday between 2 p.m. and 4 p.m. to clean the house, which I forgot to tell you about,” he answered. I made mental notes of the days the maids would come, which relieved me a little. The house was a lot bigger than the apartment, so the upkeep would be much more difficult.

“That’s okay. So…what’s your question?” I then asked, giving him the chance to do the same as me.

“Do you truly want this?” he asked, catching me a little by surprise.

“What part?” I asked curiously, unsure if he meant my job, living situation, or something else.

“Being stuck with this job and having a child so young?” he asked bluntly.

“Honestly, I am truly happy with my job. Same with Sebastian. He is incredible, though I sometimes wish I would’ve waited till I found a partner so that Sebastian could have a normal family,” I answered truthfully, tracing little figures onto the clear vase.

“I see. Makes sense. I honestly didn’t think I’d find myself being a father in such a situation, but it’s incredible getting to know Sebastian every day,” Zavier replied, playing with the folded napkin.

“What do you do for fun?” I asked, wondering what he did besides working and playing with Sebastian.

“I like to watch movies, read, or go out somewhere. You?”

“Writing. I always loved doing that." I smiled, thinking of the many projects I had going on. I'd never completed one, though. “What else should we know about each other?” I then asked, unsure of what would come next.

“I don’t know… Oh, do you have any allergies?” Zavier frowned a little as he asked his question.

“Nope, none…” I answered, pressing my lips in a thin line. “Uh, what’s something you hate? Anything?” I asked, hoping to know what I should avoid so that we could live under one roof without any issues.

“Citrus fragrances,” he replied without hesitation.

“Let me guess—it reminds you of cleaning supplies?” I asked, relating to that hatred so much. I always bought cleaning supplies with a different scent.

“Yep, you hate it too?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, it irritates me.” I laughed and then asked after a few moments, “What was high school Zavier like?”

“Oh, uh, he was something else. In public, he was the perfect child, but behind the scenes, he’d rebel a bit.” Zavier shrugged. Of course, he’d rebel a bit. “What was high school Amara like?” He wiggled his eyebrow a little.

“Oh, she just tried passing her classes and enjoying the time she had with her friends.” I shrugged, thinking back to high school. It was around that time that I lost my dad, so I was pretty numb for a while. “I think we know enough now, right?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“For now, yeah. Let’s enjoy our meal,” he said as he spotted the waitress coming back with our food.

We ate our dinner then ordered some lava cake as dessert. We still had the whole bottle of wine to go through, but given that Zavier would be driving back home, we decided to finish it off at home. Delicious was an understatement if I had to describe the food. Before leaving, we took a picture together for the media's sake and then finally drove back home. Charlotte texted me saying Sebastian was asleep, and she didn’t like driving out late, so she asked if he could sleep over. The answer was yes, as I’d hate for her to drive back late too.

Once we got inside, I kicked my shoes off and looked over to see Zavier right behind me. He loosened his tie and put his jacket to the side, leaving him in just his dress shirt. He pointed to the wine we still had left. We were both a little tipsy and only halfway through. I said we'd only have one glass, but instead, we drank it all and a little more from another bottle before finally calling it a night.

I stood in front of my mirror, trying to unzip my dress. It went perfectly fine putting it on, but it was now giving me a hard time, maybe because I was drunk. I had even forgotten to close the door.

“Need help there, Amara?” Zavier asked, his deep voice startling me a little.

“Please.” I giggled, looking at his reflection in the mirror as he got closer and closer to me.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look?” he asked, his fingers going down to the middle of my back as he pulled my zipper, exposing my bare back to him. He lowered his lips down to my shoulder blade and pressed soft kisses to it. I tipped my head back and pushed up against him.

“You mentioned it before,” I said, biting down on my lip. I moved a hand to the side of his face and caressed him.

“I should probably stop,” Zavier mumbled, pulling away from me and leaving my skin cold. I turned around to face him, looking up into his emerald eyes and slowly trailing my eyes down to his perfect lips.

“Yeah, we should,” I agreed, looking back up into his eyes. I couldn’t help it; I rested my hands on his shoulders, slowly stepping closer to him. I pulled him down, my lips ghosting over his before he finally kissed me.

His lips were warm over mine, and we moved perfectly in sync. I could still taste the wine on him, which made me deepen the kiss, wanting—no, needing—more. It had been way too long since I had done this, and the alcohol sure loosened me up.

I felt his hands moving down my waist as mine traveled to the buttons of his shirt and began undoing them. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving my lips swollen. He started kissing down my jawline and my neck, and he sucked on my skin, making me moan loudly, my hands grasping his hair as I pulled him closer. I traveled down his skin, feeling his muscles under my touch, and then I finally took off his shirt. His large, warm hands pushed down my dress, letting it pool by my ankles. He picked me up and brought me to the bed, setting me down gently.

“Give me your hands,” Zavier said in a low tone, removing his tie from around his neck.