Page 26 of With a Cherry On Top

As inCherry, the cam girl. Cherry, with the sharp green eyes, the sultry voice, the way-too-intense stare that made it feel like she was looking right at me through the screen.

No way. Nofuckingway.

She crosses her arms, her weight shifting to one hip as she studies me with mild interest. A fitted black top clings to her frame and exposes one of her toned shoulders. With it, she wears a high-waisted denim skirt, fitted through the hips and flaring slightly toward the hem, almost brushing the marble floor. A slit in the front offers a glimpse of the tall, black leather boots at her feet, and there’s a black belt cinching her waist, a subtle gold buckle catching the light.

She looks different than the dreamy, sexy woman in the pink nightgown.

For a moment, I almost expect a flicker of recognition in her gaze, but then I realize...she’s never seen me. She doesn’t know who I am.

I feel like I’ve been dunked in ice water.

“Well?” Charlotte says, tapping her foot on the floor. Her voice—it’s different now. Less of that smooth, practiced purr from her streams and more...dry, unimpressed.

“This is Chef Coleman,” Mrs. Arnault says. “He’ll be working for us.”

Crap!I gave her the nameCole. What if she figures it out?

I fucking came in my hand in her presence. Then I burst out crying and continued for a good fifteen minutes. Don’t get mewrong, it was the most liberating cry of my life—and the most expensive one too—but I don’t need to relive the humiliation.

Charlotte’s expression doesn’t change as her lips press together slightly, like she’s biting back a reaction. Then, she sniffs. “Great. Hope you love making salads,Chef.”

“Chef Coleman is a professional,” her mother says smoothly. “He knows exactly what you need.”

What do you need?

You’resopretty when you come.

I hook a finger in the collar of my shirt, desperate to loosen it. Her voice has been haunting me for a week. It echoes through my thoughts when I open my eyes in the morning. I hear it before I fall asleep, in the silence, and when there’s chaos around me. Her voice whispers to me in the shower as I fist my cock.

What if she recognizes my voice?

Charlotte’s eyes flick back to me. “That so?”

I still haven’t said a word, and I’m probably looking like a clueless idiot. This is so much worse than just cooking for some overbearing, calorie-obsessed socialite. Her daughter, fourteen years younger than me, was sprawled on silk sheets a week ago, moaning my name through a screen.

I clear my throat, gripping the envelope tighter. “Yeah. That...that’s so.”

She remains motionless, save for the barest hint of amusement in her expression. I think she’d look more shocked than this if she recognized me—she must talk to dozens of people every day after all.

“Well then. I guess you’re perfect for the job.” She takes a step closer, eyes still set on mine as one corner of her lips curl up, then purrs, “Almost...Cherry-picked, huh?”

CHAPTER 6

Pasta Problems

Day one and I already wish I could go back in time and tell Ian he should assign this job to Robbie. I probably should have. Hell, I spent the last week contemplating my resignation. It’s not my fault the cam girl I contacted after heroped meinto trying TOP ended up being the daughter of my first client.

But she’s fourteen years younger than me.Fourteen. That fact alone makes what happened between us so beyond inappropriate that I couldn’t bear to witness his reaction. Amelie’s reaction.

Plus, I didn’t know what he’d say to Mrs. Arnault. What if he told her about Charlotte being on TOP? I seriously doubt her mom knows about her side-gig.

But now that I’m standing outside of the apartment complex, I wonder...What if it were my daughter? I’d like to know, wouldn’t I?

I’m a fucking father. Maybe that’s where my loyalties should lie.

And she must have worked out who I am. That comment—cherry-picked—couldn’t have been by chance. At the very least,she’s aware that Iknowshe moonlights as Cherry. And what is someone that rich doing on a platform like TOP anyway?

I’ll just have to ignore her. I need to keep this job, prove myself. I’ll cook. Be in, be out. That simple.