Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
ORDINARY THINGS
Monday morning…
“Hello. Are you Miss Jacobs?” A deep, husky voice addressed Ayla from the now open doorway of the massive home.
Opulence wasn’t even the word for what she viewed when she was granted access past the fortified iron gate.
The modern style mansion in front of her was something she’d only seen in magazines or on TV and social media.
All the windows seemed to be floor to ceiling amongst the French country style home.
The tar paved driveway wrapped around a three-tier fountain, and she viewed the three-car garage in front of her when she parked behind the black Bentley Bentayga.
She wasn’t sure how far it stretched, but she didn’t see another house in sight.
Ayla was happy she’d landed the interview, but she was intimidated when she read the credentials.
Inari insisted she would be okay. She didn’t know where the change of heart came from in her sister, but she was grateful for her support.
At first, Ayla wasn’t sure she would be able to live with strangers, but from the size of this place, it didn’t seem like it would be a problem.
She’d kept it professional in black pinstripes pants, a white blouse, and a pair of Inari’s Dior flat shoes.
With her natural looking wig pulled to the top of her head in a professional bun, she smoothed some of her edges back with her hand, a sign of apprehension.
She’d been on interviews before, but this was different.
Today, she even put on her thin framed glasses that she hated wearing and took out the contacts.
She thought it made her look softer, intelligent.
Like she knew what the hell she was doing and she wasn’t some little girl out here lost and trying to figure it out.
It was one thing to cook for her family and friends.
In her opinion, they were all biased when it came to her skills anyway.
Preparing meals for strangers was something else.
She’d mastered a lot of universal dishes, though, and was never afraid to push the envelope and try something new.
Staring up at the porch, she spied the large figure lingering off to the side.
Black suit, strong posture, examining every blow of the wind.
She’d noticed armed men at the gate when she was let in as well.
Suddenly, she wondered if she was in over her head.
“Yes! I’m sorry.” She positioned her black bag on her shoulder and faced the porch. “This is just… quite a house. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it in person.”
An older gentleman stood with his hands in the pockets of his slacks, taking her in very carefully. She estimated him to be in his late fifties or early sixties. Very much handsome and in shape. The salt and pepper hair in his goatee was everything, giving him a distinguished look.
“Thank you. Come in.” He stepped aside, and Ayla craned her neck to take in the high vaulted ceilings, gold light fixtures, and warm lighting.
“I know the agency was very limited on the details.”
“They provided the necessary information.” Ayla nodded as he closed the door behind her.
“Audiemar Blackmoor,” he introduced himself with his hand extended for her to shake.
Ayla’s eyes bucked. “Blackmoor?”
“It’s rude to not shake someone’s hand upon greeting,” he critiqued.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ayla tapped her forehead and shook her head. “I’m just a little surprised.” She gripped his warm palm.
“Come with me into the living room.” He waved his arm toward a large, arched open doorway and into a living room with so much elegance, Ayla was afraid to sit down and mess anything up.
The ivory, powder blue, and gold decor was breathtaking, and not at all overdone.
Above the large fireplace was an old canvas painting of a beautiful expresso skinned black woman.
Posed with one arm draped on the French style chair, one leg crossed over the other, and draped in an ivory-colored pantsuit with a powder blue top.
Nails and makeup perfect, a soft simper graced her full lips.
“So, how do you pronounce your name?”
“It’s eye-luh,” she enunciated.
Audiemar motioned to a love seat for her to sit, but he remained standing nearby.
“Thank you. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’m good, thank you.” She set her purse beside her and clasped her hands together in her lap.
She took in her atmosphere, allowing the vibes to sink in.
The job said she would have to live here, and Ayla was big on energy.
The house felt more like a fortress than a home.
When she turned to the doorway, she was startled.
Audiemar had disappeared, and in his place was a figure that took her breath away.
Tongue tied, she wasn’t sure how to speak in that moment.
Imagine a man being so fine you can’t even form a sentence.
Studying her with sharp eyes, he strolled over to a chrome serving tray in his navy suit and white shirt.
He was tall, at least 6’2”, with broad shoulders.
His presence filled the room without effort.
“You’re young.” He spoke low, measured as he poured coffee from a silver pitcher into a mug arranged beside it.
“I am. I’ll be twenty-five in a couple of weeks.”
“I see you have experience. Taking culinary classes and working on your bachelor’s degree.”
“The classes are just to make it official. I’ve been cooking since I was like six or seven. My mama kept me in the kitchen. When she died, the responsibility of what to eat kind of fell on me,” Ayla explained, watching his head shift in her direction at the mention of her mother being dead.
“I’m Kong Blackmoor,” he introduced himself.
“I moved back into this house with my father after my wife died. Me and my two children. I’m here to be fully transparent with you about the situation, Ms. Jacobs.
I work often, and my children can be a handful.
I’ve lost four nannies in six months. The last one also took on the cooking role. It didn’t end well.”
“Is this the part where I run for the hills?” Ayla snickered.
“The situation isn’t ideal, and it won’t be easy here.
The bonus is an incentive. The pay is competitive, and you don’t have to worry about anything like bills since you’ll be living here.
I’d like to run a trial period. I’m only asking you to be the chef.
I’m already scoping new prospects for the nanny position. ”
“That makes sense.”
“First, I have a test for you. What’s your favorite brunch meal?”
Ayla didn’t have to think about it.
“Um, chicken and cornbread pancakes with spicy syrup.”
“How the hell you come up with chicken and cornbread, lil mama?”
His tone had shifted, as had his expression. The way he placed that nickname on her so comfortably left her stomach fluttering, and she grinned shyly.
“Well, me and my sister went through some hard times.” She sniggered.
“I’ve experimented with what I had to make it work for us.
So, instead of chicken and waffles, it was cornbread pancakes.
They’re actually really good. Don’t knock it until you try it.
I also have a grab and go spinach and ham egg bake that will have you eating a whole pan of them. ”
“Let’s see what you’re made of then.” Kong nodded over his shoulder. “The kitchen is through here.”
Ayla trailed him through the museum like halls and took in the art and different statues arranged on antique tables. She’d been at Vintage Vault enough to know the real from the fake, and these pieces were state of the art. The real deal as Inari would say.
“Is there a map to this place?” she teased, pausing when they finally reached the doorway to the kitchen.
“You get used to it after a while.”
It was like a chef’s dream, and she found herself brushing past Kong to examine it without his permission.
The island counter stretched across the center of the room, one side large enough to seat at least four people.
On the other side was a flat stovetop that also turned into a griddle.
Behind it the microwave and double oven were built into the wall with a double-sided sink and other appliances neatly arranged beside it along the countertop.
The fridge was massive, with glass doors that took up an entire wall.
She gasped and dropped a hand against the counter to hold herself together.
Everything was so organized. The way he described the chaos, she thought she’d find a mess.
“You think you can whip up enough for four? I’ll have the kids come down.”
“Absolutely.”
“Make yourself at home.” Kong sipped his coffee and backed away from the counter.
Him leaving her alone in this beautiful kitchen suddenly had her head spinning.
She looked around until she came across an apron hanging on a hook nearby and picked it up.
This wasn’t a test she was expecting, but she wasn’t about to shy away from the challenge.
She went to wash her hands next, and then stepped over to the fridge to grab all the ingredients she would need to prepare the perfect brunch.
It was so easy to fall into her zone when she had everything she needed at her fingertips.
Halfway through the prep, Kong returned, but he wasn’t alone. The most adorable boy and girl were with him, both wearing a scowl and turning their nose up at her presence.
“Kyro, Kara, this is Ayla. She’s going to make brunch for us today.”
“I want peanut butter and jelly!” Kara screamed, her eyes the only part Ayla could see over the counter.
The little furrowed brows and attitude in her voice were hilarious.
“That’s not what she’s making,” Kong voiced.
“Ain’t the point of a chef for her to make what we want?” Kyro questioned.
“Kyro…” Kong warned.
“I love a good peanut butter and jelly, too, but I like trying new things. You can sit down at the table over there, and we can play a game to make this fun,” Ayla suggested.