Do the dishes or do you...

Cooking and having him watch me has to be the most nerve racking thing I'd ever done.

This man was literally perfect at whatever he does. He never had to be bad at doing something so of course, I felt a little nervous when I saw him watching me.

I was not a bad cook, let me get that straight. I even went to culinary school at some point in my life. My mother was a great chef and so was Lilian and Greg. I  had a lot of background knowledge in cooking and everything associated with it.

"What are you making?" He asked out of the blue.

I raised my head up to look at him. "I am making spaghetti and meatballs. Do you want something else?" I asked.

He shook his head. "no. I eat spaghetti like every other human being."

I rolled my eyes but continued cooking anyway. I had drained the spaghetti and was now trying to make the tomato sauce.

His phone rang once again and he went to the lounge to pick it up.

I could tell that it was a work call but everything was being said in another language this time.

His muscles flexed as he leaned back on the sofa and spoke into the phone.

I had to divert my eyes before I ended up burning something. That would be very embarrassing.

Finally, everything was ready so I served it.

"What beverage would you like?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "what will you be having?"

I thought about it for a while. "I'm usually that girl who takes Sprite with spaghetti. For some reason, I like them together."

"Anything is fine by me." He simply said.

I raised my brows. "do you eat everything or you have your own personal preference. You look like someone who is very particular about what they eat." I told him.

He hummed in affirmation. "I am. It does not kill to try new things some times. At least then I'll know to never try them again." He explained.

That was a good way to out it. I thought to myself before bringing out the big bottle of Sprite I usually kept for whenever my best friend and I were in the mood to go junkie.

"That's quite big." Luciano commented.

I nodded in affirmation. "That's the point. I don't know if I should be saying this but I eat a lot of junk. Most times, I have a lot of ice cream. Other days I just eat completely healthy food. You know, to balance everything out."

He did not look surprised but I could tell that it amused him. "I will always say this. You do not look like someone who eats that much junk. Do you work out?" He asked.

I shook my head. "oh no, I used to run every single morning but I only so so once in a blue moon now. Working out is non existent in my life."

"Then how do you keep in shape?" He did not mince words. That was one thing I liked to admire about him. He said it as he felt it. There was no sugarcoating words and trying to beat around the bush. He had no time for that.

I smiled before pouring out the Sprite and putting sitting on the kitchen stool. He did the same. I always preferred eating I'm the kitchen rather than eating on my dining table. The kitchen always felt too formal and aloof for me. I dare say, I don't enjoy my food as much when I eat it on my ding table.

"I think my body is genetic. My mother had my kind of physique." I told him.

He raised his brows. "did she work out?"

I chuckled. "oh, no she did not. She owned a fast food restaurant at one point. Do you think she was healthy?"

He shook his head, an amused expression appearing on his face.

I could tell that he had noticed I used past tense for my mother. I wanted him to overlook it and not ask any questions. I was not ready to go that deep into my life yet.

"Your mother is no more?" He eventually asked some minutes into our lunch.

I took in a deep breath then shook my head. "no. She died ten years ago."

That was all I was willing to say. I genuinely hoped that be would leave it at that.

"What about your father?" He eventually asked again.

I kept my expression neutral as I downed my remaining Sprite. "They died on the same day."

"Sorry about that." That was all he said and I was grateful that he left it at that.

Any other person would have asked me what happened to them and try to sympathize but Luciano Roberto was not used to the word sympathy.

For the first time ever, I appreciated his nonchalant attitude. It was either that or he could really tell that I did not want to talk about it.

"That was delicious." He complimented after we were done eating.

I flushed. "really? You never stroked me as the kind of man who gave out compliments."

He nodded his head. "I don't. But when the compliments are earned, I have no problem giving them out."

I rolled my eyes before grabbing the plates and heading for the kitchen.

I was about to do the dishes but he stood in front if me.

"Let me do the dishes." He offered.

I shook my head. "are you kidding me? You are my boss!"

"Not for the next one week. Besides, what does me being your boss have to do with this?" He asked, obviously thinking I was overreacting again.

"It has everything to do with this! You want me to be the one to make Luciano Roberto do the dishes?" I gasped.

He gave me a blank look. As usual. "I can either do the dishes or I can do you. Your choice."