Page 11 of Quarantined with the Billionaire

“Thanks, Simon, but you know I enjoy cooking.”

“Yes, sir. I’m going to go to the post office then. Is there anything else you need me to fetch while I’m out and about?”

“No, thanks.”

Simon nodded, smiling at me, and I couldn’t quite understand why. But his expression didn’t seem malicious, so I wasn’t going to take it wrong. I really liked the guy, so I flashed a grin back before tackling orange number three as he walked out of the room.

Once again, I was alone with the magnetic CEO—and I wanted to get to know him. “Do you cook very often?”

“I find it soothing, but I don’t do it as often as I’d like. There aren’t enough hours in the day. Fortunately, Simon is a great cook and takes good care of me when I’m home. I have to eat out a lot. I have a lot of business meetings and get togethers centered around food.”

I had so many questions, but I’d be nosy if I asked too much, so I focused on peeling, trying to keep my curiosity at bay.

“What about you, Bailey? Do you like to cook?”

“It’s all right. I don’t mind it.” I wasn’t very good at it, so I often ate microwave meals or made simple dishes I couldn’t exactly mess up. But that sounded so low-class. I didn’t want to give Mr. S—Maddox—a reason to judge me.

Even if it would have been right on the money.

“Maybe I can turn you around, help you find a way to love it.” Soon, he began cracking eggs into a glass bowl and, after pouring in a little milk, he began whipping them until they looked almost frothy. Then he warmed a skillet on the stovetop before placing a pat of butter in it, stirring the yellow square around as it melted. I watched every motion he made while continuing to peel the fruit, realizing that maybe variety, like what Maddox was doing, made for a more exciting experience.

After a bit, he asked, “Do you like cheese in your omelets?”

“Sure.”

Only he didn’t take a block of cheddar out of his fridge. The cheese he removed was in a wedge, an off-white color, and he sliced it thinly while the remaining butter melted in the pan. I didn’t want to look ignorant, asking what kind of cheese was, and instead just watched him work. He sautéed the chopped pepper first and, after a few minutes, dropped the tomatoes in for a few seconds before scooping them all up into a small bowl and adding more butter to the hot pan. Next, he whipped the eggs again before pouring them into the skillet.

I had to admit that he made it look like an art form.

“One of my secrets, Bailey, is using the finest cheese. Have you ever had Gruyère in an omelet?”

“I don’t think so.” Actually, I knew so. I’d probably never had Gruyère in any context.

“Oh, you’d remember it. What it does for the other ingredients is divine.” At this rate, the food would be ready before the beverages, but I only had four oranges left to peel. I tried picking up the pace instead of staring at what he was doing, but his work was fascinating.

And my mouth was watering.

Reaching into the cabinet over the stove, he took out a small bottle. As he took off the lid and shaker, he poured a small amount of a green herb into his hand before setting the bottle on the counter. I was then able to see that it was sage. He also sprinkled salt and pepper on the giant omelet before expertly flipping it over in the pan, just as I imagined a seasoned chef would do.

But now it was time for me to see if I could operate the juice machine. It really was as easy as he’d made it sound, and I pushed all the oranges through the top after turning it on. The sound of it turning the fruit into liquid overpowered the light sound of the eggs frying in the pan but, soon, I had a pitcher of juice. “Where’s the trashcan?”

“Over there, under the sink.”

I placed all the peels in the empty plastic bag before carrying it over to the sink. By the time I returned, Maddox had placed the cheese on top of the round bed of eggs, followed by the cooked tomatoes and pepper. Finally, he folded it over and then cut it in half with the spatula, making two quarter circles. Grabbing two plates from the cabinet near where I stood, he slid them onto plates before cutting up the chives on top.

It looked amazing.

“Bailey, the glasses are in that cabinet beside the refrigerator.” Had I been thinking, I would have already poured the juice. The cabinet doors at eye level had glass in them. While the glass wasn’t completely transparent, the interior of the cabinets were lit, allowing me to make out shapes. The drinking glasses and goblets were pretty obvious, had I been thinking about it.

“Got it.”

While I poured the juice into large glasses, Maddox continued moving around the kitchen. “Shall we?”

“Let’s.”

While I’d hoped we would have gone into the dining room, just so I could see more of his magnificent home, I was equally pleased to see him taking the plates into the well-lit room to the south. I followed along. “I call this area the breakfast nook. Most of the time, I like to read while I eat, but sometimes it’s nice to just look out at my little patch of nature.”

“It’s beautiful.”

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