Apples and Oranges

who knew kitchens could be so dangerous?

After the party, the catering crew gradually began to leave, though a few people stayed behind to tidy up. Khya was one of them. Thomasina had forced her to stay for being late, despite their success. She was now knelt in the kitchen doing unwilling hard graft, scrubbing the black and white tiled floor clean. Fuming with anger and sweating buckets, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and sat back on her heels to pull off her jacket, and then she went back to cleaning.

The door swung open and Khya heard footsteps enter the kitchen and head to the massive fridge. But she couldn’t see who it was because the large central granite work surface was in the way. Nosily she sat up and peeped over the counter, prepared to shout at whoever it was if they had left dirty footprints on her nice clean floor. He was stood peering into the fridge, dressed completely in black with soft brown curls of hair resting on the top of his collar. It was gorgeous hair that Khya was briefly able to imagine running her hands through. He stood back to close the fridge door and Khya ducked back down behind the counter quickly, knocking over the fruit bowl in her haste and sending apples and oranges rolling everywhere. He spun around, a cold bottle of water in his hand, trying to see what had happened. Meanwhile, Khya scrabbled around on the floor trying to stop the rolling fruit. But unbeknown to her the strange man had approached from behind and was stood there watching her a*s as she struggled with the fruit.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked stonily despite his initial attraction to her. Khya looked over her shoulder shocked and completely dazzled as she gazed into his emerald green eyes.

“Ummm…”

“Well?” he questioned, “I asked all of you to leave. Get out!” When he said that Khya was no longer dazzled, instead she flared up. How dare he shout at her! So, climbing to her feet, she began to shout back.

“Don’t you start too! I’m a head chef I don’t have to do any of this. Why can’t everyone just leave me alone to do my work!”

He stood there awhile, shocked and then burst out laughing. Khya wasn’t finished but was unable to continue, completely flabbergasted. It had been a long day.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh but you were so mad.”

“I’m sorry too. But I’m sick of being treated like nobody.”

“That’s fair. So are you really the head chef?”

“Yes. Were you at the party tonight? What did you think?”

He gave a little smile and nodded.

“It was great. But can you make chocolate chip pancakes for me?” Khya smirked; she made the best pancakes in the state but he wasn’t to know that.

“Why should I? I’m not getting paid by you… am I?”

“Yes, you are. By the way you missed an orange.”

“Oh.”

“I’m Noah Dawson. This is my parent’s house but I’m the only one who lives here because my parents are always travelling in order to run the family hotel business. And you are?”

“Khya Hamilton, head chef of Lawson & Co., no family and a big attitude problem.”

“Okay then, and what about my pancakes?” Noah tried not to seem uncomfortable at the mention of her having no family but didn’t succeed.

“I’m sorry,” Khya stuttered, apologising hastily seeing his discomfort. “Chocolate-chip pancakes coming up.”

She stood up from her position knelt on the floor holding the scattered fruit from the side board. Khya placed the fruit back in the bowl and hoisted up her trousers, hiding Noah’s view of her underwear that had been peeping over the top of her trousers, and began to make him pancakes. Khya cooked in silence and Noah watched her with anticipation. Twenty minutes later he had a plate of steaming hot pancakes before him and Khya was handing him one of two forks.

“Dig in!” she cried, smiling at him and attacking a pancake with relish. She was absolutely starving, having not had a chance to eat all that evening, and demolished a whole pancake before he even had a chance to eat more than a mouth full of his. Noah paused watching her, giving a small smile at her hunger and the fact that she was oblivious to his intent gaze. She was beautiful and so passionate about food, both making it and eating it. He gave a little laugh at himself and Khya looked up from her pancake. Realising Noah had barely touched his pancake Khya asked him what was wrong but he shrugged off the question and looked down at the plate eating once more. Thankfully, Noah’s phone rang just then and he fumbled to answer it.

“Hello? … Oh! Mom, what do you need?”

“Have you found a girlfriend for your sister’s wedding yet?” even Khya could hear her and winced at his mother’s abruptness.

“No Mom, I haven’t.”

“Why not? What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you find a nice girl, marry her, settle down and provide me with some grandchildren? Your sister did it.”

“Okay mom, I get your point. Don’t worry about it I’ll be there and I won’t be alone.” During this short conversation Noah had been stalking the kitchen but stopped suddenly with this statement to turn and look purposefully at Khya. She stared back at him confused and then the meaning of the statement hit her. Backing away from him, having dropped her fork on the granite work top Khya turned to run. He was not taking her to any wedding, if she could help it. Weddings were not her cup of tea. Noah seeing her panic hastily ended the phone call,

“I’m sorry mom I have to go. I’ve some important business matters to attend to.”

Author's Note

just be honest :D