Human, You Are Delicious

Chapter 7: Dinner Plans

*LEON *

Osip's eyes were daggers as she glared the two of us down. “What the f**k is going on here?"

Vicky turned to face me. I could feel my body return to its usual rigid state. Then, I sighed. “How many times have I told you to not only knock, but also not interrupt me during work hours?"

“You're constantly working, Leon—if I didn't storm in here, I'd never see you!"

'Thank God', I muttered low enough under my breath that no one else could hear. There was a reasn for that.

I set down my utensils and slightly rolled my eyes. “Is there something I can help you with, Osip?"

Osip crossed her arms over her chest. I really hated when she was like this. I ran a high-end restaurant; the last thing I needed was her dramatics. “Did you forget? Dinner?"

“Osip—" I began. “I've told you countless times I can't go out with you—"

“Not with just me. But with the owner of Chez Local. My father spent a large amount of time looking to get you this meeting. Do you know how difficult it is to get in with Tony? He's doing you a huge favor and...." Her eyes fell to the plates behind Vicky. “...judging by the food here…you did forget."

Fuck.

I put the lid over the plate again and looked to Mason. “Call Tony and tell him I'm running a few minutes behind. Say we hit a huge dinner rush, I'm sure he'll understand."

Mason gave a nod and walked out of the office, heading toward the nearest phone. In muffled tones, I could hear him talking and adverted my attention back to Osip, who still stood in the center of the room, staring.

“Is there anything else?" I asked.

She scowled. “I see you didn't take my advice." Her gaze fell onto Vicky, who sat quietly in the seat across from me.

“Why would I take your advice? This is my business—remember?"

Her thoughts were screaming at me. All I could hear were the same questions playing over and over again in her mind: why didn't I love her like every other man out there? How was I not attracted to her? What could she do to make me care about her?

The answer to all of it was simple: nothing. There was nothing she could do because it wasn't her looks I wasn't her appearance, it was who she was. We had no similarities, no connection; it was emptiness. We were using each other for benefit, and that was purely it.

Osip stared back and forth at myself and Vicky and then he mouth slowly hung open. "No way. Are you in love with her? That's why you recruited her, isn't it? So you could have the sick foreplay of food before s*x?!"

“Are you f*****g crazy?!" I stated, standing from my chair. “Osip, you need to go."

"I'm not blind, Leon!"

“Ma'am…" I heard Vicky's voice pipe up in an effort to save me. I respected her guts and comfortablity with this incredibly unprofessional experience.

“Don't you ma'am me," Osip spat out, glaring her down as she pointed a direct finger at her. “I know exactly what your game is. You just want to get close to Leon and tell all your little friends your sleeping with the richest and most notable chef in the city. You're a child, and a f*****g disgrace. So why don't you go play dressup somewhere else and leave us alone?!"

I couldn't take this anymore; it was getting way out of hand. “ENOUGH!" I heavily growled.

Osip's body jumped at my suddenly raised voice, and I noticed Vicky slide back into her chair. She was scared—I didn't need to hear her thoughts to know it. I was used to people being terrified of me, but that didn't change the pang inside of me that appeared at her reaction.

I looked to her, softening my gaze in hopes to help her relax. "Vicky, you can go now. Your work for today is done."

"No, you can't leave!" Osip dared to interject. “You have to stay here now and explain everything to me. Do you want to f**k my fiancée, Vicky?"

“I-I-"

"Vicky, please ignore her. I'll see you tomorrow at 9'oclock."

She turned and glanced at me; her eyes were dark but full of uncertainty. I reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, surprising myself with my empathy. I hadn't felt empathy for anyone in a long time…it was nice.

Vicky nodded and made her way toward Osip. She stopped short of her and smiled softly, to which Osip frowned. Vicky then took that as her note to leave and walked out the door, closing it behind her.

As soon as she left, Osip turned to me. She was furious.

"Did she think that she could just prance in here and—"

“No," I snarled, stepping around the desk and closing in the distance between us. I was beyond furious—I couldn't even comprehend my emotions.

“You need to listen, and you need to listen good. This is MY business; it is how I pay for everything from our f*****g house to the imported leather shoes on your feet. You do not get to walk in here whenever you like, and you do NOT get to talk to my employees like that. Ever. I'm going to say this once more, and I'll say it nicely—leave your f*****g dramatics at home, or I will NOT be there when you return."

She didn't flinch. In fact, she remained stone-cold, stoic, and utterly unphased. She was challenging me, and it was a fight she was determined to win.

“Was that a threat?" she stated more than questioned.

“Take it how you want to." My eyes were locked on hers for the first time in a long time, and I realized just how much hate hers truly held.

At this moment, Mason pushed open the office door. It was just the right time.

"Sir, Mr. Local has agreed to a half-hour time difference."

Finally, something to get me the f**k out of here.

"Thank you, Mason," I answered, not breaking contact with Osip. “We were just finishing up here. Show Miss Spenser to the kitchens and have Frank prepare her a meal. She must be starving."

“Yes, sir. Miss Spenser, this way, please."

Osip took a moment. After a beat, she huffed and then chuckled under her breath before turning and leaving out the door with Mason.

As soon as she closed it behind her, I let the breath I had been holding in to calm myself go. I then looked down at my watch; 20 minutes. I had to get a suit—there was no time to stop at the house on the way. So, I packed my tools and grabbed my ID before leaving.

Only, as I made my way through the kitchen and said my goodbyes, I couldn't help but focus on anything except what I overheard from Vicky during our meal.

What the hell was a Blood Bond…?