The Billionaire's Plump Chef

Marie Sue's POV

Running in broad daylight wearing a coffee-stained T-shirt that said ‘fuck me’ and grey sweatpants was not on my to-do-list. But when the loan sharks you borrowed from come knocking at your door demanding their money while holding weapons, all you have to do is run. And that's why I'm running for my life.

The truth is : I've made terrible decisions in my life — falling for a gymbro who only wanted things to be physical between us, selling my MacBook Pro to support said boyfriend, and forgiving said boyfriend when he cheated on me only to get dumped in the process. But this one? Oh, it tops my list of bad decisions.

“Get her!” A middle-aged blond snarled behind me.

“No!” I looked over my shoulder, (another bad decision), and pleaded with them to stop chasing me.

Of course, they didn't stop.

My eyes darted left and right, looking for the perfect hiding spot or in my case, perfect escape route. There was none.

Kensington street was currently at its busiest the way it usually was every Monday. I couldn't cross the street without getting hit, couldn't run into the cake cafe on my right without getting kicked out, couldn't even keep running because of the rush hour.

My running slowed and I panicked. My body was too tired to move. Now, I wished I'd listened to my bullies when they told me I needed to get a gym membership. My plus-sized body couldn't take any more of this running.

I was tired. My bare feet were sore and my stomach clenched. That's what you get for running first in the morning without any preparation.

“There she is!” The blond screamed.

“Shit!” I kept running. “God, what do I do?”

I didn't notice the gentleman walking my way. I slammed right into him, throwing us off-balance. I yelped and closed my eyes. Before my body hit the ground, he caught me.

I threw my eyes open, feeling his grip around my waist tighten. Who the…. The rest of those words died on my tongue because holy hell… this man looked like an Angel.

Tall, porcelain-skinned, and built like an Olympian, my saviour had tousled dark hair and a face both infuriating and unfairly symmetrical. If brooding were an Olympic sport, he would win. Did I also mention that he's of Asian descent? His blue eyes sheltered behind thick framed glasses, had that faint glow again, steady and impossible and they were staring at me. And when he spoke, ladies and gentlemen, my brain left the groupchat.

“Do you mind getting off me?” His voice was low and rich and absurdly composed.

I blinked. “Did you say something?”

He gave me a light shove and brushed invisible dust off his expensive-looking suit. I could tell from the fancy jade brooch pinned on the breast pocket. He looked like those rich guys I see in our restaurant.

He shot a glare at me before walking past me with a subtle warning. “Watch where you're going.”

My senses finally returned to me and I blinked again. Holy hell.

“Mariam, get me my money!” I heard the loanshark yell.

Oh no. I'd completely forgotten about them. What should I do?

My eyes scanned the streets. Who do I call? I'm not even with my cellphone. Who would help me? My train of thoughts trailed off when my eyes landed on the tall gentleman I'd bumped into.

I muttered a soft curse under my breath and ran back to meet him. Then I grabbed his arm and forced him to face me.

“What the — ?!” His British accent caught me off guard but I forced myself to not dwell on it. When he looked at me, he sighed as if I was some waste of space that intruded his vicinity. Truthfully, I was. Just not a waste of space, I intruded his vicinity.

“What now? Do you need compensation? You were the one that bumped into me.” He said with a smug tone.

“Slash that. You've gotta help me. Can you pretend to be my boyfriend?” I blurted out without thinking.

His brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

I looked over my shoulder. The loansharks were close.

“Shit!” I faced him again. “Please, you've gotta help me.”

“Look, lady, I don't even know who you are.” He hissed.

When the loansharks got near, I knew I had no other choice.

I grabbed the stranger’s face and whispered. “I'm sorry.” Then, I kissed him.

“What the?!” He panicked.

“Please, just play along.” I muttered against his lips.

And just like that, he began to play along. His hand flew to my waist and he kissed me back.

I let out a soft moan when he tightened his grip on me and deepened his kiss. Jesus, I can't breathe.

I heard footsteps behind me and pulled away. Then I hid behind the stranger and gripped the back of his blazer.

“Honey, that's them. Those are the men chasing me.” I said with tears in my eyes. They were real tears by the way. I was scared out of my bloody mind. What if he pushes me to them or worse, leaves me to their mercy?

I opened my mouth to speak again when the loan shark beat me to it.

“Sir Jordan, apologies. I didn't realize you were back in the country.” The blond said in a voice I'd never heard him speak in, cowardly.

What is going on?

“Well, I am.” Jordan said. His tone was calm but you could tell the anger hidden behind it. “Why are you and your men chasing my woman?”

I blushed at his words. Marie, you slut. Focus!

The blond looked at me and I stuck out my tongue at him. He clenched his fist for a moment and suddenly remembered where he was.

“S - sir, she's owing us.” He managed between another stutter. Seriously, what is up with that?

“How much?” Jordan asked casually. Wait, he was saving me for real? Thank you, Jesus.

“Just five grand.”

“Put your details in here.” He passed his phone to the blond who typed his digits in before returning the phone.

Jordan fiddled with his phone for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “I've wired the money with some for your boys.”

Blondie whipped out his phone and his eyes widened. “Boss, thank you!”

“If I catch you anywhere near her ever again, not even the FBI would be able to find your body. Do you understand?” Jordan warned.

“Y - yes, sir.” At that moment, the blond forgot I existed. He turned to his boys and they ran out.

Just like that, my debt had been cleared.

I peeled my fingers off Jordan's back. “Wow, that was incredible. Thank you…”

“Don’t you ever try that in public again!” He snapped, facing me now.

I was taken aback. “What?”

“Kissing me in public? Running from loansharks? You're lucky I took pity on you.” He hissed.

I scoffed. I cannot believe this guy. “You kissed me back!”

“You asked me to play along, didn't you?!” He snapped back.

Oh, he's right. I did tell him to kiss me back.

My eyes dropped to my bare feet before they met him and I mumbled. “I'm sorry.”

“Jesus,” he pinched the skin between his eyes before walking away. “Is everyone in NewYork a moron?”

I opened my mouth to bite back a retort when I suddenly remembered where I was.

I was standing barefooted in the busiest street in NewYork in a coffee-stained shirt and oversized sweatpants. Great.

I was sore, exhausted and very, very upset but I was glad a stranger had paid off my debts.

Still, something tells me this is just the beginning.