Chapter 11: The Confession
988 Words
(Tunde’s POV)
I sat in my office at the back of The Garnish. The restaurant was closed. The staff had gone home. The only light came from the streetlamps outside and the glow of my phone screen.
I had read the message ten times.
SpiceGirl: Because he isn't you.
I stared at the words until they blurred.
I poured myself a glass of whiskey. My hand was shaking. I took a sip. It burned going down but it didn't burn as much as the jealousy twisting in my gut.
I was jealous of myself.
It was ridiculous. It was insane. Amara liked me. She admitted it. She liked Tunde the chef. She liked the way I cooked. She liked the way I looked in a suit.
But she didn't trust Tunde.
She trusted ChefX.
ChefX was safe. He was the guy who listened to her rant about her generator, was the guy she ran to when she was scared.
I looked at the next message.
SpiceGirl: I like him Chef. He is charming and handsome and he cooks like a god. But he scares me. You don't scare me. I feel like... I feel like I'm betraying you by liking him.
I slammed the glass down on the desk.
"I am him!" I shouted at the empty room. "I am the same person!"
But I wasn't. Not to her.
To her, Tunde was the billionaire who lived in a huge house. He was the enemy who tried to buy her out, he was also the man who intimidated her with expensive wine and French cooking terms.
ChefX was just a guy. A guy who understood pepper soup.
I picked up the phone. I needed to fix this. I needed to bridge the gap between the two men she thought existed.
I typed slowly.
ChefX (Me): Why does he scare you SpiceGirl? He sounds like he is trying very hard to impress you.
I waited. The three dots appeared. Then it disappeared. Then it appeared again. She was hesitating.
SpiceGirl: He tries too hard. That is the problem. Tonight he took me to his restaurant. He sat me at the Chef's Table. He fed me food that costs more than my rent. He looked at me like... like I was a prize he wanted to win.
I winced. Is that how I looked? Like I was trying to buy her?
SpiceGirl: And then his real life called. A VIP complained. He switched instantly. He became the Boss. Cold. Efficient. Powerful. I sat there in my wig and my cheap dress and I realized I don't belong in his world Chef. I am just a project to him. A charity case he is helping with a generator.
"No," I whispered. "No Amara. You are not a project."
I wanted to call her. I wanted to get her address, show up banging on her door and tell her that she was the only real thing in my life. I wanted to tell her that I hated the VIPs. I wanted to tell her that I only cooked the food to see her smile.
But I couldn't.
If I told her now she would know I had been lying to her for weeks. She would know I had been reading her private thoughts. She would hate me.
I had to defend Tunde. I had to make her see him differently.
ChefX (Me): Maybe he wasn't trying to show off. Maybe he just wanted to share his art with you. Cooking is how chefs say 'I care'. Maybe he switches into 'Boss Mode' because he has to protect his business. It doesn't mean he is cold.
SpiceGirl: You sound like you are defending him.
I froze. I was walking a tightrope.
ChefX (Me): I am just saying... don't write him off yet. Maybe under the expensive suit he is just a guy who wants to be seen. Just like you.
SpiceGirl: I don't know Chef. It is hard. When I am with you I can breathe. When I am with him I feel like I have to hold my breath.
That broke me.
I didn't want her to hold her breath. I wanted her to breathe. I wanted her to laugh the way she laughed when she won the Jollof war.
SpiceGirl: I wish he was more like you.
I stared at the screen. The irony tasted bitter in my mouth.
I wish he was more like you.
I was me. But I had hidden the best parts of myself behind a screen because I was afraid she wouldn't like the rich boy. And now the rich boy was losing to the ghost.
I knew what I had to do.
I had to kill ChefX.
I couldn't keep this up. Every text message was another brick in the wall between us. I needed to make her fall in love with Tunde. Real Tunde. The Tunde who loved burnt rice and cheap beer and arguing in the rain.
And I had to do it fast. Before ChefX became the only man she ever loved.
ChefX (Me): Give him a chance SpiceGirl. One more chance. Maybe he will surprise you. Maybe he is more like me than you think.
SpiceGirl: Maybe. Goodnight Chef. Thank you for listening.
ChefX (Me): Goodnight.
I put the phone down.
I stood up and walked to the window. Across the street Baba’s Pot was dark.
"One more chance," I promised the empty street.
I wasn't going to woo her with money anymore. No more fancy dinners. No more generators.
Tomorrow I was going to get my hands dirty.
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