Absinthe

"I'm really sorry, Rob."

"Don't worry, I understand."

"I called Derrick. He's on his way now. Please do enjoy the rest of the evening with him. I'm really, really sorry. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

Robert smiled as I kissed him on the cheek. I mouthed one last sorry before rushing toward the entrance and riding the taxi the maître d' had procured for me.

It was annoying that I didn't get to finish the amazing food at Le Chaumiere. I shuddered at the thought of Nico's skill level. And it was even more disappointing that I wouldn't be able to spend the night with Rob. After all, I'd prepared for it by cleansing myself thoroughly down there.

But there was no use crying over spilled milk now. And I shouldn't have been thinking about failed sexcapades! I'd just gotten asked by the Chef Maxwell Olivier to cook desserts for his restaurant. That was an honor no amount of shagging could replace, even if it was with hot half English Rob!

However, when I reached Chef Maxwell's, I felt as though something was wrong. For one, the parking lot seemed emptier than I had expected. Where were the fancy cars for diplomats?

I paid the fare and tipped the driver handsomely before rushing in.

The whole place was empty. Seriously, I had no idea what the hell was going on. Was there some hidden function hall I didn't know about?

I walked further inside, toward the special area right in the middle of the restaurant. There, the transparent ceiling was accentuated by a gigantic live tree, with flowering vines hanging all over the place.

It was the best spot in the entire restaurant. When I glanced at the table behind the tree, there was a guy sitting there. His back was to me, so I couldn't see his face, but I noticed that he was handsomely dressed. He seemed tall, too, with slender yet athletic legs framed perfectly by an amazing set of trousers whose brand I couldn't quite put my finger on. And don't get me started with the breadth of his shoulders—the mere sight of them made me weak.

In other words, I was only a few steps away from an impossibly handsome man.

For a moment, I thought I had said that adjective out loud because before turning and looking at me, the stranger at the table said it.

"Hey, handsome."

It was Jiwoo.

He stood up, walked toward me, took my hand, and gently led me to the table. He pulled out the empty seat next to him and motioned for me to sit.

As if on cue, Chef Maxwell and two other members of his staff approached and greeted us.

"Good evening. My name is Maxwell Ollivier, your chef for this evening."

"Good evening. My name is Rachel Samonte, and I will be your head attendant for tonight."

"Good evening, sirs. I am Gabriel Montalban. I will also be attending to your needs for tonight."

They all smiled before Rachel and Chef Maxwell bowed themselves out. Gabriel stayed and raised an unmistakable golden bottle with an engraved spade symbol in the middle of it—I was 100% sure it was Armand de Brignac Brut Gold! That costs more than 2,000 dollars!

"Champagne, messieurs ?"

Jiwoo nodded and gestured toward the chair again.

I wanted to make a scene at that very moment, scream and walk out on Jiwoo, but the champagne was to die for, and I was tempted to drink no fewer than three bottles. I needed to get revenge for Chef Maxwell's lies!

Once Jiwoo and I were both seated, Gabriel expertly opened the bottle with a soft pop. He then proceeded to pour a generous amount into two peculiar-looking glasses before putting the champagne back in an exquisite crystal champagne cooler sitting on a beautiful side table.

I took a sip of the sparkling wine and studied the glass it was in. It wasn't the typical flute most restaurants used for champagne. It wasn't a coupe, either, which was what I had seen earlier at Le Chaumiere. It looked like a typical glass wine, but the stem was longer, and there was a depth to the glass akin to a flute.

"It's called a tulip," Jiwoo said. He must have been watching me. "We had the same thing at the Hilton. We only use it to serve VIPs when they order champagne costing $1,000 and up."

"A tulip, huh?" Indeed, the glass resembled a tulip bulb.

like

seem

really. But I did work in the hospitality industry, so I've

down my glass. "I thought I told you that I have neither the time nor the energy to

a bit much, don't

did wasn't?" I asked, remembering what Jiwoo had done that day

If you think I'm playing around, let's play

"Are you fucking serious?"

the dishes they'll serve. Whoever does so correctly gets to ask the other person any question, and the loser

the hell would I want to do

really feel." Jiwoo was

you think I'm interested

has everything to do with what I feel for

How.

On earth.

say such a thing with a straight

my cool despite my anger and had avoided Jiwoo. Yet, he had not made a single move to dispel the bad blood between us. And now he wanted to

on the fucking planet. There was caviar on top of quail eggs from the looks of it, and those were resting on some crispy fried noodles in the shape of a

said. "This

ingredients are after tasting the dish.

"Definitely, monsieur." She gave me the dish first before doing the same with Jiwoo. It made me recoil on the inside because in traditional French dining, ladies are

smoke coming from the soft-boiled quail egg filled my palate. The saltiness of the caviar reminded me of the sea. There was also the unmistakable presence of cumin in the nest made with taro yam as well

I described everything I tasted, a

mini taro nests infused with cumin and deep-fried in sesame oil, with soft-boiled quail eggs smoked in applewood

chance," Jiwoo said, smiling as well.

There was soft piano music playing in the background, and for some odd reason, there

I possibly could. "You know what, I don't really care," I added, changing my mind. I mean, what good would

might not have been breathing

said. "Why did you have to

my question and took a sip from

at

been so much simpler had I

at me intently, not saying a

despite all that, I'm not

angry at the world for being born to a prostitute mother and a sex

"..."

acknowledge him as my father. All he did was

"I'm so—"

angry because my mother married a callboy, and they had

have to say

when I started taking these classes with you guys. Things

you," Jiwoo said, face turning redder by the minute. "You have everything

quiet for some time before he spoke again. "You're rich. You're talented. You can get anything you want. It felt so unfair. Why do you deserve what you have? And why

know how to respond to

Jiwoo said softly. "I just don't get it. No matter how hard I

with me that it was also downright cringey! And besides, I was still not ready to forgive him. I understood that he had to go through a lot of hardships, but that was not enough reason to do what he had done to me

know anything about me, so you can't make that

He grimaced. "That's why I'm apologizing for what I did. If I could rewind and redo everything, I'd definitely

table. Rachel returned soon after with