Page 56 of With a Cherry On Top

I huff out something that sounds like a laugh.

“One day, Sadie will be an interesting, successful, kind woman. Because her father stuck around and made sure shebecame one.” She sniffles. “For better or worse, Iammy father’s daughter.”

I blink up at the ceiling, chest tight, throat thick, emotions threatening to swallow me whole.

“Thanks, Chef,” I say, voice raw.

“Anytime, Chef.”

Beatrice

No need to come cook lunch. I’ll be out and Charlotte is having a protein shake. See you at dinner.

I readthe message one more time before tucking my phone away and knocking at the door.

This is stupid. So stupid.

I shouldn’t be here.

Beatrice said not to come, and she’s the one making the rules. But when I read “protein shake,” my head started steaming. All Charlotte had yesterday was pizza at my place; she needs actual nutrition today.

So I decided three hours of noticecouldbe too little. Icouldjust not have looked at my phone.Couldhave just missed the message and showed up anyway.

Anything’s possible, right?

I glance back at the stairwell, debating turning around, but the door swings open and there stands Charlotte, her expression shifting from confusion to amusement. “Chef?”

Holyfuuuuck.

My gaze falls down her body.

She’s wearing a black satin two-piece set that should be illegal. The silky blouse is barely fastened with one single button at the center, dipping low enough to reveal the angles of her collarbone. And the skirt—fuck, the skirt. Short. Dangerously short, clinging to her hips before ending mid-thigh.

She slightly bends one of her legs, like she’s posing without meaning to, the back of a black stiletto pressed against her calf. “Chef?”

My eyes snap back up, to the molten-red hair pinned up in a messy twist, stray strands slipping free to frame her face. To the gold hoops in her ears and the gloss on her lips. “Huh?”

She crosses her arms, her lips curving into something wicked. “Do you need a glass of water or something?”

I nod, though I have no idea what she just said. How can someone look so sinful while being dressed? How can someonerealbe this achingly beautiful?

“I . . . I’m here to fill you up.”

Her eyes go wide and I suck in a breath.

What the fuck did I just say?

“N-no, yourstomach.” Oh boy, I don’t think I’m making this better. “Fill up your stomach.”

Stop. Saying. That.

She brushes a speck off my shirt, fingers lingering. “Fill me up, huh?”

I open my mouth, then shut it. My brain is glitching. “I-I meant?—”

She leans in just a fraction. “Are you offering tostuff me, Chef?”

I make a strangled sound. “That’s not?—”

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