Chef X Chris Novels & Stories

Chris smiles crookedly, “How about you pay me back by making me dinner sometime instead? I really didn’t pay much, but if you insist, I could accept food, but I won’t accept your money.” “Smooth,” Brittany whispers loud enough for us to hear. I’m starting to catch on a little. Chris isn’t doing this for the cat. He is coming on to me, and I’m not sure how I should feel about it. “Well,” I look to Brittany for help, but she holds her hands up in surrender, as if to say I’m on my own with this one. I looked back at Chris nervously. “Chris, I’m not a very good cook. I eat mostly canned soup and sandwiches at home.”

, Richey asked as he saw Chris glancing weirdly at him. “Don’t even think about in. She is bad news!”, he replied. “She is bad news do not let her looks deceive you. She is a bad cook too. This morning she…” he continued. “Is there something you aren’t telling me,Chris?”,Richey interrupted. Chris raised his hands innocently, “None, nothing at all!”.

Even though it's small and cosy, it's still got its warmth of delicious delicacies that makes people feel like eating at home. I have always felt immensely proud and pleased in helping Grandma out with managing the restaurant. With a short staff and me going to school, sometimes I worry how would Gran manage to do it all. Even though she always reassures me, I still sometimes get worried about her. I saw Chris sitting on the couch, casually one arm slinging over and legs crossed. His gaze was solely fixed on some documentary about aquatic animals that were going on some cable network. Chris looked even more handsome in his khakis and a buttoned white shirt that has something written over it,

Chris glanced at me briefly before giving me a quick smile, "there’s no way I’d let my wife touch a knife in the kitchen when I have so many maids here." I didn’t expect him to respond like that. But I remembered that Chris was an annoying man. He acted so annoying, from not attending the wedding, trapping me at the bar when I was drunk—I didn’t know if this could be categorized as a trap since I went there willingly, to putting me in a difficult situation when I saw his dangerous side during the cruise ship attack a month ago. "However, Cassie can cook very well, Chris." I raised an eyebrow when I heard the difference in the way my mother called Chris.

“Sunday.” With that I breathe a sigh of relief and get out of there before I say something that sets off her suspicions again. This is going to be interesting enough without giving her any ammo before we get started. Chris, on the other hand, is excited about meeting them and spends all day Saturday grilling me about what they like to eat and making sure that the chef is going to prepare it. All of it. From fried fish and potatoes to baked mostaccioli and garlic bread. He’s determined that we’re going to have a little of everything to make sure they enjoy it.

“And weekly evaluations. And monthly rewards… if the meals are edible.” “Edible?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, I make a mean pasta.” “Oh, I’ve heard that before,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully. “Now, chef, show me.” Chris opened the fridge and peered inside, pretending to scrutinize every item. “Hmm… what do we have? Vegetables that need saving… meat that’s begging for attention…” Mia leaned against the counter, watching him, arms crossed but smiling. “You’re taking this very seriously.”

Alexa sniffed the air around her in satisfaction, she took a seat on a wooden chair opposite Chris, a never ending grin graced her face as she stared down at the bowl of instant noodles Chris made for her.. "So far all the guys I have met knows how to cook, I think I'm gonna take cooking classes from now on" Chris chuckled taking off his suit jacket, he settled back on his seat and proceeded to eat his meal.. "You have a nice apartment, I was wondering why your kitchen looked like it was set ablaze"

Jack noticed my surprise and quickly explained, "Chris is half-Scottish and half-Italian. His father was a soldier, so I guess that his fighting abilities are from him, but his Italian mother taught him how to cook, and sometimes I wonder if he wouldn't be more successful as a chef of his own restaurant." My eyes narrowed, watching Chris as he chopped the onion at an incredible speed and then threw it into a frying pan. The mouthwatering smell of food instantly reminded me of how empty my stomach was. I bet that I must have resembled a lost puppy as I watched him finally put the pasta on the plates. I guessed that they enjoyed watching me eat a bit too much. The wide grins on their faces cou

"I hope so too. Tell him to snap out of it. He is certainly the crazy type, missing his family Like that. Joy and I went home that day. As usual, I did not find Chris at home. He just disappears after the lectures, only to return late at night. A thought came to my mind, as I imagined implementing it one way or the other. It was night time but I decided to stay up. I reserved some jollof rice and chicken, which I knew was Chris's favorite food as I placed it on the table. I took out my diary opening to the part I wrote about Christopher.

Xavier chuckles and holds his hand up in surrender. “I'll leave you two to it then,” Ramsey said and leaves, with the server following behind him once more. I'm left alone with Xavier once again who's watching me intently. “Who was that man?” I ask. “That's Ramsey Gordon, CEO of Taste. He's also the head chef.” “Oh…” I have more questions but I don't get to ask them because Xavier stands and comes around the table, grabbing my plate from the table. “Now this,” Xavier says, gesturing to the first dish, “is truffle butter filet mignon.”